Page 29 of Duke of Wickedness
“You are too kind,” she murmured.
There were worse personal sins than being a tad uninteresting, weren’t there? Some men gambled away fortunes! Some men kept up scores of mistresses…and, well, she did have reason to suspect that the viscountmightfall into that category, but honestly, the idea that he might spend time dithering at some other woman bothered Ariadne less than perhaps it ought to have done. Still. Some men were violent!
There were worse flaws. That was all she could say about him.
But that…wasn’t very much to recommend a man, now was it?
“Lady Ariadne?”
Besides, even if the viscount proposed, and even if she married him—which was a great deal ofifs to begin with—eventually they would have children. Then they could talk about the children. That was doubtless half the reason why people evenhadchildren, once one looked past the wholeissue of successionmatter.
She could do a lot worse. A lot worse.
“I’m sorry, Lady Ariadne…but are you all right?”
Ariadne blinked and realized that she hadn’t the faintest idea how many times the viscount had called her name.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, replacing the Society smile. “Please forgive me. I am feeling a touch unwell this morning. It’s made me a bit absent.”
The viscount looked almost as though she had said she was already halfway into her grave.
“Oh, my poor lady!” he exclaimed. “Here I have been, going on and on, and you are feeling unwell!” He got to his feet andbowed hastily, then again for good measure. “I will bid you adieu, of course. But do please drop me a note when you are feeling better; I shall fret for your well-being otherwise. And I would hope, most sincerely, to promenade with you once you are feeling no longer plagued.”
This was quite astonishingly dramatic. It was the only astonishing thing the viscount had ever done, perhaps.
“I…shall,” she said, because what else was there to say?
He beamed.
“Marvelous. Simply marvelous, my lady.” He bowed again, then turned to a bemused Helen and did the same. “Your Grace. I thank you most earnestly for your hospitality.”
“Uh-huh,” Helen said.
The viscount left; Ariadne slumped back in her seat, suddenly exhausted.
“Well,” Helen said. “That was strange.”
“No,” Ariadne said immediately. “It wasn’t.”
Helen gave her a speaking look. “Well, I meant him, butnowI mean you.”
Ariadne scrambled for a distraction. “Well, he is abit…”
“Boring?” Helen supplied sweetly.
“Conventional,” Ariadne suggested diplomatically.
Helen twisted her face into something that Ariadne thought was meant to be a smile.
“There are worse things,” she said, not sounding as though she believed it.
It was not terribly comforting for Ariadne to hear her own arguments parroted back to her in such a tone.
“I am going to leave,” Ariadne said, then stood to do precisely that. This was not the kind of conversation where she could hope to come out victorious. The best she could do was beat a hasty retreat.
“Because you’re feeling so unwell,” Helen said, dripping with false sympathy.
Ariadne paused midway through her exit to stick her tongue out at her sister by marriage.
