Page 37 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

“Tereford. Ha. I often wondered if you and he would make a match.”

“Us?” replied Cecelia inelegantly. Had her aunt guessed at the feelings she’d thought so thoroughly hidden?

Aunt Valeria nodded. “You are better acquainted than many young people ever get the chance to become and have been through much together.”

“Much disagreement and contention,” said Cecelia.

“Disputes are a sign of emotion, are they not? They do not occur where there is no…” She gestured as if searching for a phrase. “Buzzing,” she finished.

“We are not bees, Aunt.” Yet Cecelia was struck by her aunt’s suggestion. Was there emotion behind James’s prickly manner? What sort precisely? What if he loved her as she did him? No, that was impossible.

“If only you were,” replied the older woman. “We would have none of this fussing. You would take flight, and the drones—in this case a prince and duke, ha!—would race after you, vying for the right to be your mate. The queen flies as high and far as she can to test her suitors, you know. Only the strongest can be allowed to catch her.”

“Human females don’t have that power,” said Cecelia. “They must sit and wait to be asked.”

“That is the convention,” said Aunt Valeria. “But not how it works oftentimes. Look at your mother.”

“My… What do you mean?”

“She decided she wanted Nigel. Lord knows why, but she liked him. Loved him, I suppose. Hard to imagine, but there it is.”

Cecelia pressed her lips together to keep from speaking. It was exceedingly difficult to stay silent. But she didn’t want to interrupt, and perhaps cut off, this unprecedented flow of information. She’d never heard even this much about her family before.

“Of course Nigel has always been the most indolent creature on earth. Getting him ‘up to scratch’ as they say was not likely. So Eloisa took matters into her own hands.”

“Do you mean that Mama proposed to Papa?” Cecelia couldn’t stop the question from popping out.

Her aunt waved a hand. “I was not privy to the details. I didn’t know Eloisa at the time. And I never pay attention to such stuff. But from remarks that Nigel has let drop, it seems that she presented a list of the advantages of marriage, and he conceded.”

“Conceded,” said Cecelia. It didn’t sound tender or passionate.

Her aunt, unusually, seemed to notice her concern. “It is rather a significant thing, for Nigel to concede.”

Cecelia considered. It was true, in the world of ideas her father was a different creature—tenacious, immovable. If he’d agreed with her mother, he must have wanted her as well.

Aunt Valeria stood. “This is all very tiring. I must get to bed. You will take care with your flying, Cecelia, and not go too high?”

Though not certain what that might mean, she agreed. They walked upstairs together, Cecelia’s mind full of new thoughts and wild speculations.

Seven

This was not a duel, James told himself as he made ready for the public fencing bout. Much as he resented his opponent and wished to teach him a lesson, duels were private matters. Secret even. This was more like…a boxing match. He’d attended many mills in fields or country barns with crowds of observers. But those were not fought by gentlemen or observed by ladies. No, this…performance that Prince Karl had engineered had no precedent.

James knew he’d been goaded into the match. The prince had chosen words that would enflame him—or any man, he judged. James didn’t care. It might be a vulgar display, but he looked forward to trouncing the German blusterer in front of Cecelia. He enjoyed picturing the admiration that would show in her eyes, her disdain for the loser. She would see who was the better of them. Perhaps he would even go down on one knee and offer for her at that moment. It would be a dramatic finish to this battle. All of society would see him claim his prize.

The betting books in the clubs were running about even. James was known to be a skilled fencer. Prince Karl had boasted of his prowess, and Germans had a reputation with blades. Some of them saw dueling scars as a badge of honor. James looked forward to administering a sharp setdown to this one.

He hadn’t expected the event to become quite such a sensation in polite society, though upon consideration he could see why. Novelty always attracted. People were vying for invitations with fierce intensity, guaranteeing that there would be a crowd on hand to see them fight. Prince Karl had persuaded an acquaintance to lend his extensive back garden for the occasion, and James had heard that the man’s wife was in transports of delight. Her invitations to all the leading lights of society would at last be accepted. James wondered what she would have done if the weather had turned rainy? Set up a marquee for this raree-show? Fortunately the day was fine.

James’s valet ushered in Henry Deeping, who said, “Why do I feel like a second in an affair of honor?”

“Perhaps you are.”

“I was joking, James.”

“I am not.”

“You don’t think you’re taking this too seriously?”

---