Page 60 of Guilty Pleasures

She circled around to the other side of the table, putting it between them like a barrier before she turned to face him.

He did not follow her, but remained where he was. “You are the granddaughter of a baron, it seems, but Viola told me that you do not know his identity. If this is true, I will find him. We will establish your connection to him, and obtain his permission for the match. A mere formality, of course, given the circumstances, but necessary. I will negotiate the dowry and terms with him. Once we are wed, I will provide a quarterly allowance for your use. Five thousand pounds should be sufficient, but if you require more, you need only ask. As my wife, you will be entitled to my full support.”

Daphne felt anger and frustration rising within her like the tide. He was talking as if she had no say in that. “Is not marrying me a bit extreme? I am somewhat ignorant of these matters, but I believe it is the usual custom for men in your position not to marry women for this sort of thing, but to pay them off.”

He pushed aside the oak table between them so violently that it skidded across the stone floor and hit the wall. She did not move.

He took another step toward her, and the chair in his path followed the table. She still remained where she was, meeting his gaze as he halted, a few feet away.

“You insult my honor, Miss Wade, and your own,” he said, his voice low and furious, “if you assume that I would sink so low as to pay you off with a douceur as if you were some demirep or prostitute.”

“It is you who makes me that, with all your talk of terms and settlements and quarterly allowances and no personal regard or respect for me behind them. Accepting your support for a child we might have is one thing. Marrying you is something else, a wholly unnecessary step, to my mind.”

“You were a virgin, in heaven’s name! If you believe that I would take the innocence of a young lady and not do right by her, you know nothing of my character as a man, of what my position as a peer means to me, or of my honor as a gentleman.”

“And what of Lady Sarah?” she countered. “Were you not intending to marry her?”

“I suppose Viola told you. It hardly matters, as I have not declared any such intention to the lady, and now I cannot do so.”

“You were not in love with her, yet you intended to marry her. You do not love me, yet you now wish to marry me. One wife is as good as another? With a mistress for additional variety, of course.”

“Love, love,” he said impatiently. “What is love? Define it for me, if you will. You are the one who had her heart broken, so you told me. Tell me about love.”

“That was not love!” she cried. “That was infatuation! A foolish inclination not supported by anything but my own imagination, for you felt nothing for me at all. I knew it, but—”

“What?” His shocked question made her realize her deepest secret had just slipped out.

Somehow, she did not care. What other people thought of her no longer mattered. “Yes, Anthony,” she admitted, looking him in the eye, unashamed of her feelings. At least they had been honest ones. “I was infatuated with you . God help me, I fell for you the moment I met you. Stupid of me, but there it is.”

He was staring at her in utter astonishment, and somehow that only fueled her anger. “Unbelievable, isn’t it? Me, of all women, wanting a duke. Me, a woman with no money, no connections, and no family—at least no family that wants to acknowledge her. Me, a plain, shy, serious woman who by all rights should become a spinster because she is as noticeable as a stick insect on a twig!”

She saw a flicker of something in his expression, and she went on, “Yes, I was standing outside the music room that night when you and your sister talked of me. I heard every word you said. Do you recall that conversation, your grace?”

Comprehension dawned in his face, comprehension and a hint of dismay. “I did say that,” he murmured and began to walk toward her. “I admit, I had forgotten the entire incident. It meant so little at the time.”

“So little to you, perhaps, but so much to me.” She was too angry to care that it would serve no purpose to tell him these things now, angry with how he had turned what had just happened between them in to something that involved obligation and shame. “I believe I was also compared with a machine, a creature with no feminine appeal. I was pathetic, I believe that was the term you used—”

He stepped forward and grasped her shoulders to give her a little shake, as if she were getting hysterical, when in fact, she was quite calm.

“Listen to me, Daphne,” he said. “I am grieved that you overheard me say something so thoughtless, but I did not know you. I mean, of course I knew you, but I did not really know—” He broke off. Lowering his hands to his sides, he took a deep breath and tried again. “It was true that I said it, but it was because I meant that you made yourself unnoticeable. That was all, and your tendency to do so was a subject, I might add, which we have discussed. Viola was talking of finding you a husband, and she asked my opinion—”

“You certainly gave it. You told your sister that finding me a husband was a hopeless business.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Not so hopeless after all, since you are now feeling this absurd compulsion to marry me yourself. How odd life is!”

He stepped back, clasping his hands behind him and looking every inch the proper duke. “Please believe that I have nothing but regret for those words. What I said was cruel and thoughtless, and I realize you must have been deeply hurt, but I assure you that wounding your feelings was never my intent. Since then, as I have already stated, I have developed a strong attraction to you, strong enough that one could safely describe it as a sort of madness with me. A temporary madness, perhaps, but a madness nonetheless. I wanted you so badly, I—” He expelled a harsh breath and the ducal dignity faltered. “God, after what just happened, do I have to explain?”

“No. I believe it is safe to say you have changed your opinion of me. How soon before it changes again? How soon before your ‘temporary madness’, as you put it, fades away, and I become a stick insect again?”

“I do not think of you that way!” he shouted. “Can a man not change his opinion? I have changed mine. When I look at you, I do not see a stick insect. I see—”

“You do not need to soothe my pride, your grace,” she interrupted, unable to bear hearing compliments now. “It is not necessary. My heart was not broken by hearing your opinion of me. My pride was bruised, and that is all. I was not in love, I was infatuated, and I recovered from the experience.”

“Damnation, Daphne, stop interrupting! I appreciate the wrong I have done you—in more ways than one, it seems—but that does not alter my obligation. We will be married as soon as the arrangements can be made, for I will not compound my wrong by abandoning my honor and my duty.”

Daphne did not reply at once. She picked up the two halves of her apron and fastened them together at the neck, then slipped the garment over her head and began to fasten the ties. It was only after she had knotted the last one that she spoke.

“Once again, you seem to believe that this is all about you. Your duty, your good name, your heirs, your estate, your obligations, your feeling that what happened between us should be regarded as something sordid. Until we get married, of course, at which point, your honor will be satisfied. Most of all, this is about your sense of guilt.”

She saw him flinch. Drawing a deep breath, she went on, “Unlike you, I do not feel guilty at all. I do not feel ruined. In fact, I was feeling quite delightful until you began talking of duty and shame ruined it all. I knew what I wanted, and I took it, as did you. You may feel that there is some dishonor in it, but your dishonor is not mine. What happened between us—”

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