Page 8 of Her Lion of a Duke
Just as he was leaving, Cecilia appeared behind him, pulling on his sleeve.
“My answer is yes,” she said quietly. “Call on me tomorrow. Bring a ring with you, and we shall announce our engagement.”
Before he could ask her anything, she had left.
He did not know what had led to her decision, and part of him knew that she would never tell him. Regardless, she was his friend, and he respected her wishes.
Now, she would be more than a friend; she would be his wife.
CHAPTER 3
“It is a joyous occasion for all in London.
Yes, the Dervaux musicale has come to an end, and we may all live another year without paying it any mind. One has to question why Lord Dervaux would continue to humiliate his daughters by putting them on display in such a manner, but love comes in many forms, and I can only assume that this is somehow the way he shows his.
Other strange ways of showing affection include surprise engagements, of which London has known thousands. There has, however, never been one quite like that of Lady Cecilia Punton and His Grace, the Duke of Pridefield.
For a lady who has always shunned Society, thinking herself above it all, she certainly knows how to play the part when it is convenient for her. There have been many questions about how the match came to be and whether there was any seduction involved, but I believe in something far simpler than that.
They were simply so roused by the performance that night that they were swept up in the romance and had to confess their love for each other. The musicale was, of course, most rousing.”
Cecilia slammed the sheet down on the table and sighed, burying her face in her hands as her family ate their breakfast.
“You cannot be surprised,” her aunt said gently. “The two of you were not even courting.”
“No, but we have known each other for a very long time. You would think that the ton would see it coming, especially when we are hardly ever with other people.”
“Regardless, a courtship would have been more proper. I wish that you had asked me beforehand, Cecilia. I am happy for you—truly, I am. But there will be questions that I do not have answers for.”
“There is nothing much to say. We have known each other for a long time and decided that marriage would be beneficial for both of us.”
Her aunt eyed her narrowly. “I do not want to ask this, but I must. Is there anything that I should know about?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do not play coy. Did you and His Grace do anything that I should be aware of?”
“No, Aunt Margaret. I can assure you that nothing untoward has happened. We simply had a conversation, and we believe this is the right thing to do. Think about what this will do for Clara.”
Clara, who had been sitting quietly while eating some fruit, finally raised her head to look at them. “Do not tell me that you are marrying for my sake.”
“Of course not, but you must admit that it will help. Perhaps I was simply tired of making things more difficult for you?”
“And if that is the case,” Aunt Margaret said softly, “then it is very noble of you. I am not angry, please know that. I simply want to be certain that this is what you want.”
Cecilia smiled weakly, twisting the ring around her finger. It was an heirloom, Leonard had explained, and clearly cost a fortune. She simply hoped that she would not lose it.
She did not know what she wanted. She had been grateful that Leonard had given her time to decide, but that was simply not meant to be. The moment she returned to the gathering, she heard the whispers.
Clara was never going to marry, not when her cousin was so awful. The Punton name was at risk because of how Cecilia behaved. The Duke of Pridefield would never take a wife as long as she was there. Gentlemen could not stand to be within ten meters of her. She was going to ruin everything.
And so she accepted the proposal.
She was not a fool. She knew that Leonard was the best option she would ever have, and that if he decided he wanted a wife, he would have found one very easily. It was not an opportunity that she could allow to slip through her fingers, so she did not.
And now she was to be a duchess.
She aired such grievances to Beatrice, who had invited her to tea that afternoon.
