Page 88 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

“Because it’s true. What about the time you shoved a quill into my hand, and it spattered ink all over my favorite waistcoat? Those spots never came out. I had to dispose of it.” James’s errant brain wondered if the garment had gone to the sort of place where Ned had acquired his refurbished wardrobe.

“Well, you and Papa had been wrangling for an hour,” said Cecelia.

“Iwas wrangling. Your father was wishing himself elsewhere and, unless I am mistaken, emitting very soft moans.” He shook his head. “I am not mistaken.”

“Yes, and we all knew how it was going to come out, with you signing the deed.” Somewhat oddly, she was smiling.

“Well, I know, but I wished to be…argued into it.”

“Did you?” Cecelia sat straighter, with folded hands. “Very well. The points of the case then. You wanted my help with your estates. Which appear to be in disarray.”

“Yes, but…”

“And so you suggested that we should marry in order to acquire my services.”

“I did not put it as well as I might…”

“Which are quite valuable, if I do say so,” she interrupted with calm conviction. “In return I will have an advantageous social position, as you mentioned.”

“That was before,” replied James. He had said any number of idiotic things. But much had happened since then. She’d been there for most of it.

“Before?” She raised her eyebrows. “Ah, the prince and the gossip have changed my situation, of course.”

“That wasn’t what I meant!”

“I had thought you didn’t care about the rumors.” For the first time, she sounded tentative.

“Less than I do about a flea in the coat of a mongrel dog,” he replied.

She blinked, startled. “So we shall go ahead then? We will make an agreement.”

“Agreement?” This was not the term James would have chosen.

“Considering the points in favor and of…mutual benefit.”

“You are going to marry me, Cecelia? You promise.” He heard the plea in his tone.

She met his eyes. “Yes.”

That was all that mattered, really. They could set aside this odd conversation, adding it to the litany of others they’d had over the years. “Splendid! I’ll send a notice to theMorning Post.”

“I suppose we must,” she replied.

“Why not?” Was she drawing back?

“There will be talk.” She sighed. “I’m so weary of talk. I believe a special license and a quiet ceremony would be the best course of action.”

“You’ve thought about this, I see. Are you in a hurry to be wed?”

She blushed. James thrilled to see it. He was beginning to be amused as well as bemused by this exchange. “I find thatIam, rather.”

“So that I will take over your work,” Cecelia said.

She’d rallied. Cecelia always rallied. It was one of the things he admired most about her, James realized. “So that you are my wife.” He said the last word caressingly, trying to make her blush again.

She disappointed him. Except that she didn’t. He appreciated the raised chin and the steady gaze. Had Cecelia ever actually disappointed him? She’d irritated him and surprised him and made him laugh. But disappointment? No. Never that. “I’d best go see the archbishop,” he said.

“Archbishop?”

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