Page 12 of The Duke Who Dared Me
His stiff delivery didn’t deter her.She smiled again, delighted.
“I suspect a baby is more demanding than a pug, though Pudding is very particular about his afternoon nap.”
The silence grew between them as the dance stretched on.He tried to focus his attention on her, discussing her mother’s gardens and the last interesting novel she read.He tried, truly, but his focus was still stuck on the woman in the wings of the ballroom, no doubt waiting for him to trip or make a fool of himself.
“You dance very well, Your Grace,” Clara murmured.
“Thank you.”
“I hope I’m not being forward when I say I’ve always admired your devotion to your family.Your mother speaks so fondly of you.”
His jaw clenched.“Does she?”
“She does.And I’m sure she would be very pleased to see you married soon.”
There it was.
He looked down at Clara’s hopeful expression and thought about Verity’s wicked grin when he agreed to her stupid wager.At that moment, he had agreed to nearly anything to help his friend.
Well.If she wanted a game, she’d get one.
After all, Clara was perfectly respectable.Charming, even.He could court her.Pay her calls.And if it came to it, make her an offer.It would be easy.
And yet, as the dance ended, Clara curtsied, and he escorted her back to her mother before ducking out of the crowded room to find the nearest escape out in the gardens.
He needed air.And damn it all, he needed to stop thinking about Verity Baxter.
The wager had been a mistake.A stupid, childish mistake.He didn’t want to be married until he absolutely must.But now?Now, he wanted to win.If anyone was going to drive the other mad, it would be him.Not her.
Not her.
Never her.
CHAPTER3
Word to the wise: never argue with your enemy near a hedgerow.You might trip.Or fall.Or kiss them so thoroughly that your cravat (and heart) never recovers.
-The Polite Observer
Verity leaned forward,pressed her lips to what she was certain was the world’s cutest toes, and was rewarded with her favorite smile.
She sat with Colin on a blanket in the library, basking in the morning sun pouring in through the windows.His eyes were still brilliant blue, and she wondered if, with time, they would change to hazel or brown.
“Let’s keep these feet covered, love.It’s chilly today.”She wrapped a small blanket over the baby’s muslin dress, then tickled Colin’s nose.
He cooed and wiggled, not yet able to sit up unassisted.She was certain he would roll over any day, which was exactly what she was practicing with him after tea this morning.The rest of the household was quiet, and there was an uneasy tension in the air now that all of London seemed to have a vested interest in Verity’s wager with Alistair.
“There you are,” her brother said, striding into the room.“Marina was looking for Colin.She’s been worried.”
Verity shrugged.She had asked Marina if she could take Colin to the library with her only an hour earlier.These sorts of interruptions were happening more and more, and if she were honest, it felt like she was fledging about to be shoved out of the nest.Fitting, given her age, but still nonetheless easier.
She didn’t even particularly like her brother.And Marina tolerated her.It was only that since her parents had passed, she felt unmoored in life.She clung to what was familiar, and there wasn’t much left of the life she knew.
He bent down and picked up his son.“You don’t need to trouble yourself with him, Verity.You have more important things to occupy your time.”
“Yes.”She sat up on her knees and gathered the blanket into her arms.“Like finding a husband?”
“Exactly.”
