Page 84 of The Truth About Love and Dukes

“But you won’t stay away?” Her face crumpled when he shook his head, tearing at his heart. “You know my ability to find a husband shall now be utterly out the window?”

“It’s not quite as dire as that,” he said gently. “You’re a beautiful girl from an influential family, and as I said, I’ll do what I can for you.”

“The only thing you can really do is raise the dowry.”

“Which I will not do,” he said. “That would only attract fortune-hunters.”

She tossed her head. “A fact that hardly matters, since our own Mama is marrying one. An act that I cannot help but feel is very selfish of her.”

“Perhaps . . .” He paused, looking at the portrait of his mother’s face, forcing himself to consider as objectively as he could what marriage to his father had been like for her. “Perhaps after twenty years in a loveless marriage,” he said gently, “Mama has earned the right to be selfish, at least about whom to marry. She loves Foscarelli, and love is important, though our sort always try to pretend it isn’t.”

“Mama says that, too. She says with her marriage, I will be free to find a man who truly loves me for myself and not for my position. Do you think that’s true?”

“Yes, I do. Though I suspect that’s not much comfort to you just now. I’m sorry.”

“People will ridicule us, laugh at us.”

“Yes. But we have each other, and we shall have to brave that storm together. As head of the family, it is my job to guide the ship through that storm, but it would mean a great deal to me if I knew I could count on my crew.”

She grimaced. “By that, I suppose you mean you want all of us to go to the wedding together as a show of solidarity.”

“You must do as your conscience dictates, Angie. I shan’t tell you what to do.”

“Heavens,” she murmured, making a face. “There’s a first time for everything.”

He smiled at that, but he didn’t reply. He simply waited, watching her, and after a moment, she capitulated.

“Oh, I suppose you’re right to advise that we stand as a family. Especially since we’ll be persona non grata anyway. I’ll go down to London with you, and I’ll try to persuade Sarah to come as well. You’ll have to work on David and Jamie, if you want them to come. As for Carlotta, I’ll talk to her, too, thought I don’t know how much good it will do.”

“You’re a brick, Angie.”

“And since we shall be in London, anyway . . .” She paused and gave him a sidelong glance. “Perhaps you should call on Miss Deverill? But,” she added as he sighed, “whatever you do, you mustn’t rush things. I know that’s hard for you, for you are a bit impatient sometimes. But you barely know her. Best to wait a bit, until you’re sure, before you go proposing, or anything like that.”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that advice. The deed is done.” He grimaced, turning away before she could see his pain in his face. “She refused me, Angie.”

“What? No!”

He couldn’t help laughing a little. “Your surprise is gratifying, dear sister.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be surprised? You’re the greatest catch in England!”

“Am I?” His amusement faded, and he stared at the wall of dukes and duchesses before them. “I don’t feel like such a prize.”

“Oh, my dear.” Angela wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a comforting hug. “Did she say why she refused you? Does she not love you? Is that it?”

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.”

“Well, you are asking her to take on an enormous job, and she may not feel she’s up to it. Or that she’s ready. Wait a bit, and then try your suit again. You’re not giving up after one refusal, surely?”

Instead of answering, he gestured to the face before them on the wall. “Do you remember Papa?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think . . . am I like him?”

“You look like him. So do I, for that matter.”

“But in character, am I like him?”

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