Page 87 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
Barbara strained to see who it was and then she knew.
Her stomach dropped.
Father.
With a woman she did not recognise. He wasn’t supposed to be arriving for another two weeks. Why on earth had he not let her know he was in town?
Why could she not learn that he didn’t give a fig for her?
The play began.
Heart racing, she tried her hardest to take in the events on stage, but all she could see was her father across the theatre while she felt the bars of filial duty closing in around her.
Xavier frowned at the dismay on Barbara’s face at the moment the curtain went up.
He sensed it had nothing to do with the play and everything to do with those who had entered the Royal Box.
He cast a glance over the occupants. None of whom he recognised. He did however recognise the Order of St Michael and St George on the chest of an older gentleman. A portly, balding man seated with a woman alongside another middle-aged couple. That man was a diplomat.
And therefore… He glanced over at Barbara. She was staring at the box. At her…father?
Her expression said she was not at all happy.
She turned her head to look at Xavier, as if aware of his perusal. Their gazes met. He raised an eyebrow in question.
She gave a little shake of her head, which he could not interpret, and then studiously directed her attention to the stage.
After a moment or two, he leaned towards Julian seated beside him. He indicated the Royal Box with a jerk of his chin. ‘Who is that woman?’ he asked softly. Somehow, Julian seemed to know everyone.
Julian gazed across the theatre for a moment. ‘Why, it’s Maria Wells, if I’m not mistaken. Widow of a baron who lost his money in some investment scheme.’
‘And the gentleman with her?’ he whispered. ‘The one wearing Orders.’
Julian’s eyes widened. He darted a glance at Barbara. ‘Ambassador March. What—?’
Xavier put up a hand, forestalling his friend’s curiosity. ‘I thought so.’
His stomach sank.
What had he been thinking?
She was the daughter of a man who was clearly a friend of the King, or his son the Prince, or he would not be in that box. And he’d seduced her.
Against his better judgement.
Oh, he could tell himself that she had seduced him, pretend he was not to blame, but that would be utterly dishonourable. And inaccurate.He had wanted her. And had used all the means in his power to accomplish his ends.
A cold chill settled in his chest. If he was anything close to honourable, he would make her an offer of marriage.
He really was his father all over again.
Marrying an outrageous woman because she was beautiful and intriguing and all the things he did not desire in a wife, because his lust for her was out of control.
He sank back in his chair.
If Great-Uncle Thomas was looking down from the heavens he would be shaking his head.
You are too much like your father to make a good duke.
