Page 33 of The English Duke
“Does she have many suitors?”
“She does. Probably too many to be considered proper. She hasn’t yet had her season. I’ll be sure to convey your admiration to my sister,” she added. “I’m sure she’ll thank you for it this evening at dinner.”
Why did every man lose his mind around Josephine?
Why was she jealous when she’d only rarely felt the emotion? She certainly didn’t want the Duke of Roth for herself. He was not for the likes of her. She had absolutely no desire to become a duchess.
First of all, she wasn’t as pretty as Josephine.
Second, she had absolutely no interest in fashion, witness the plain lavender dress she was wearing. She hadn’t bothered to order a new wardrobe after their mourning period had expired. Besides, Josephine had kept the seamstress so busy she probably didn’t have time to work on any other garments.
Third, she wasn’t interested in flirting or telling a man what she thought he wanted to hear. Let the truth suffice. Let there be a meeting of rational minds. Why must she bat her eyelashes and act coy? Why must she wilt against him like a fragile flower? Why must she talk in a breathy little voice as if her lungs were suddenly not working correctly in his presence? Why, oh why, did she have to say idiotic things to him as if she had no mind of her own?
She’d watched her stepmother act in idiotic ways around men. She’d heard Marie’s admonitions to Josephine. None of those rules made any sense to her. The only time she’d expressed her reservations to her father he’d stopped what he was doing, put down the clock parts and magnifying glass, and studied her.
“I would prefer, Martha,” he’d said in that somber tone of his, “if you’d remain just as you are. Yourself.”
“I’ve been told I should never express my curiosity around a man. That it’s off-putting.”
He hadn’t asked her the source of that advice. Nor had she ever confessed to him that Marie ridiculed her for reading so much and asking too many questions.
“A man who does not wish to hear what you have to say is not for you, my dear daughter.”
Now his words came back to her. A caution she should remember. The Duke of Roth was not for her, even if he did want to know her thoughts occasionally.
No, she simply wasn’t for him. Nor was he for her.
He was too good-looking. No doubt he knew how handsome he was. He probably looked in the mirror more than once a day or studied his reflection in the morning, marveling at himself.
He was too stubborn. She knew that from his letters. He refused to give up. While that might be an admirable trait in itself, coupled with his arrogance it meant that Jordan Hamilton had the potential to be insufferable. She needed to remember that.
She reached for the letters again, curtailing her curiosity. When the duke began to examine a group of gears and chains, she didn’t ask one question. The afternoon passed in silence, the time strangely companionable.
The fact that she enjoyed his company even when they didn’t talk was worrying. She really shouldn’t be here.
He wasn’t for her. She wasn’t for him.
Finally, she stood and walked to the door.
“I shall see you at dinner, Miss York.”
“I am feeling slightly indisposed, Your Grace,” she said, lying. “I’m sure you’ll understand if I take a tray in my room.”
She wished she could have frozen the look on his face to study it more closely. It was half-resigned, half-horrified.
“I doubt anyone would think it proper for your sister to attend dinner alone in the company of two bachelors,” he said.
In addition, Josephine would hate her if she couldn’t go to dinner with the duke. Worse, she’d complain endlessly.
“Very well,” she said crossly. “Perhaps I’ll feel well enough to join you for dinner.”
“I look forward to seeing you both,” he said, giving her a small bow.
She didn’t say good-bye as she left, plus she pushed the door a little too hard so it made a resounding thud as it closed.
Her father should have warned her about him. He should have put a caution in the letter he left her, the one asking her to ensure the Duke of Roth had his bequest. In addition to explaining that he admired Hamilton’s curious mind and questioning thoughts, he should have said something along the lines of:Daughter, guard yourself. He is an extraordinarily handsome man who will cause you to think thoughts that are not necessarily maidenly. In addition, he will incite your curiosity as well as your compassion. You will find yourself wanting to know more about him and such curiosity could be dangerous to your peace of mind.
Of course, her father had said nothing of the sort.
