Page 29 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke
What most people could not guess, however, was that Marianne did not mind. She was not interested in being picked among marriage-minded ladies like cattle or fruit. She didn’t feel like she could handle flirtations and forced politeness. Not when she’d seen how shallow or cruel many members of thetoncould be.
“Do you think anyone will ask us to dance?” her sister asked tentatively.
“I hope not, Lizzie,” Marianne answered honestly. “My shoes are too tight, anyway.”
However, what she wanted and what her father wanted weren’t exactly aligned.
As soon as the words left her mouth, their father waltzed in front of them, his mouth stretched into a tight smile.
“Elizabeth,” he began, acting like the father he should’ve been, yet his pale eyes remained cold. “Lord Rosendale would like to speak with you. I believe you know how to behave in front of our distinguished guests.”
Elizabeth looked startled, her lips turning pale, but she had no choice but to agree, even as Marianne could barely hide her grimace.
“Yes, Father. Of course, Father.”
Left unaccompanied, Marianne headed for the refreshments table. She did not mind being alone, but she worried about her sister.
Would their father really look for a husband for her? Immediately? What happened to his plan to give her to the one who would win the stag? Wouldn’t that be the Duke of Oakmere?
Her stomach churned at the thought of her sister marrying the Duke, even though he seemed like a better choice compared to some of the lecherous-looking men in the room.
Marianne had to weave through the crowd, avoiding eye contact as much as possible, muttering soft and required apologies.
She could barely restrain the sigh of relief from escaping her lips when she poured herself a glass of lemonade. The first sip felt like heaven on her tongue—which she could hold still, as it was blessedly quiet where she was. It seemed that she was the only one who needed refreshments so early in the evening.
“Hiding again, are you?” a voice she recognized too well asked softly. “The hunt’s not the same without you in the open, little doe. Come out and play.”
She felt his looming presence at her back, her skin prickling with the strong awareness. She didn’t turn around, swirling her lemonade to calm herself.
“I don’t think I am the only one hiding, Your Grace.”
“I don’t doubt it, Lady Marianne,” the Duke murmured, chuckling as he poured himself a drink beside her. “However, you can tell clearly that I am clever enough to find good company while hiding from the horde.”
She was always running away from him, but a part of her couldn’t help but be drawn to this man, who seemed to always appear out of nowhere.
Tonight, he was dressed in dark navy, the color accentuating the sharpness of his jaw and the depth of his piercing blue eyes. His coat, tailored to perfection, clung to his broad shoulders and trim waist, as though it were custom-made for him. Or perhaps it was he who made the coat look like it belonged to a king.
The Duke of Oakmere—wealthy and unmarried—was nothing short of striking. His face was ruggedly handsome in a way that only the most dangerous men could be. But it wasn’t his looks alone that made her heart race. It was the quiet intensity in his eyes, that unspoken wariness that hinted at something darker lurking just beneath the surface.
Something that called to her, urging her to step closer and discover what lay behind the mask.
“You have more to hide from,” she commented. “Where are your admirers, Your Grace? Don’t they need entertaining?”
“Admirers? Admirers never know who they are admiring, my lady. They may admire something about me, but they don’t try to get to know me.”
“How perceptive of you, Your Grace,” she muttered.
For some reason, she knew he was telling her the truth. She had to remind herself that the Duke was just like many of his peers.
“Aren’t you doing the same thing, though, Your Grace? You judge women based on their physical attributes and backgrounds, no?” she added. “Their outward manners, for how do we really know how they behave elsewhere or in their own homes?”
“That is why I am here. Yet you, my lady… You are not here to please anyone.”
Marianne was startled by the accuracy of his assessment. She liked being seen, but it was dangerous to be seen by a handsome duke. He could have anyone he wanted, and she knew her father wanted him for Elizabeth.
“You speak as though you think you know me, Your Grace,” she challenged.
The Duke smirked. “Indeed. I may not know you fully, my lady, but I intend to. Every aspect of you intrigues me—compels me to uncover each layer you so carefully guard. And the way you ride your horse as though you are one with it.”
