Page 43 of A Duke for the Taking
He would never forgive her.
He would never love her.
How could he? A duke and a schoolteacher? The match was laughable.
And yet, she had fallen in love with him.
How could she have been so foolish?
But there it was, she had lost her heart to the Duke of Pendrake.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAX KNEW HEshould have said something to Harriet earlier this evening to allay her concerns, but his head was in a muddle after dealing with an angry Covington, and exhausted friends who had scoured the village of Pendrake along with him in the hope of finding Beatrice. Upon returning home, he then had to face riled debutantes who expected to be entertained, and then to have Simon show up with a letter for Harriet that further infuriated Covington who was insulted his daughter had not written the letter to him.
“Who is she to my daughter? Some penniless princess from an inconsequential royal house. I am Beatrice’s father and deserve better than no word at all.”
Max wanted to clarify that Harriet wasn’t a princess, but the matter wasn’t worth raising again. “Covington, meaning no disrespect…you have thwarted your daughter’s heartfelt desire for years now. What did you expected her to do?”
“Obey the father who loves her and knows what is best for her. I raised her and gave her everything in life. After all I have done for her, she runs off and betrays me by marrying some fourth son. Have I not been outrageously wronged?”
“If you wish for my honest opinion, my answer would be no, you have not been wronged. Arlington is a good man and has loved your daughter all of his adult life. Is that not worth something?”
“She could have been happily married to you, Pendrake. Why should she settle for less?”
“She does not consider Arlington less. Would it be so awful to let them make a life together? He is decently set up, has a house and servants. She will be cared for even if you cut her off. Why do it when she loves you and wants to maintain contact with you? She is your only child, Covington. I am not saying what she did by defying you and going behind your back was right, but it is done. Accept it and reconcile with her. You only spite yourself by rejecting her love.”
And he ought to do the same with Harriet, for Max knew he had given her the wrong impression.
Harriet.
Of all people, Beatrice had confided in George Comeford’s little sister.
He knew why Beatrice had chosen her.
Harriet was the true diamond among these ladies.
But this incident had taken a toll on Harriet’s gentle heart. She had made her excuses and retired early because she was distraught and thought he blamed her for Beatrice’s misdeeds.
In truth, he wasn’t blaming her at all.
He was in love with Harriet.
The frown she’d noticed on him had nothing to do with casting blame on her. He was perplexed and debating what to do about his feelings for her.
His head was telling him to be cautious.
Had he not spent his entire life being trained to be wary?
But Harriet was a gem.
Why not declare his love?
After all, in a sense he had known her for years.
Perhaps that knowledge came only through her letters to her brother, but George had also spoken of her quite often, his heart swelling with pride and affection as they sat around a battlefield campfire to warm their frozen hands.
Was she not exactly as George had described her?
