Page 48 of Duke Most Wicked

“Then you and their chaperones will have to be vigilant.”

“Belinda should be allowed to be carefree and to make mistakes and she should also know that she has someone to talk to, someone to confide in, and she shouldn’t be blinded, or blinkered, to the realities of this world. The innocent are led astray when they’re so ignorant they don’t even know what is happening. I would have your sisters make educated choices.”

“I agree.”

“Laxton’s not worthy of Blanche. I’ll do what I can to convince her of that.”

“I chose Lord Flanders as a suitor for her because of their childhood friendship.”

“I’m afraid she sees him more as an annoying little brother who used to plague her and call her names.”

“He’s only one year younger than she is. And I do believe that he has genuine affection for her. He’s a decent, sober fellow.”

“I’ll see if I can influence her. Though she’ll be very popular with her new dowry and her beauty. I don’t fear for her chances. I only hope her heart can relinquish its attachment to the unworthy Lord Laxton. I’ll try to hint, to make her see. If Lord Flanders wants Blanche to transfer her affections, he’ll have to work at it. He can’t just reach an agreement with you, her brother. He ought to court her.”

“Are you of the same mind as my fiancée? He should bring her one hundred red roses, compose sonnets, sing under her window—all flashy and showy methods of proclaiming he’s smitten. It’s a lot of bollocks, pardon me. But it is.”

“Courtship doesn’t have to be all about roses and sonnets. My dear friends have been courted in unconventional ways, to very effective ends. Mr. Ford Wright built my friend Lady Beatrice bookshelves and taught her how to use a sledgehammer to knock down walls.”

“Very enterprising of him.”

“Bookshelves are a surefire method to a bookish lady’s heart. And Mina, the Duchess of Thorndon, was shot at by smugglers but Thorndon risked his life to protect her.

“I know about that. My friend Rafe, Thorndon’s brother, was there as well. He took a bullet.”

“I’ve observed the unconventional courtships of my friends. And I’ve read every one of Miss Daphne Villeneuve’s Gothic romances. She’s everso inventive when it comes to courtship and marriage proposals.”

“Ah-ha! Now we arrive at the truth of it. You’ve been reading romantic novels which we all know bear no relation to the real world. Those are fictional heroes doing preposterous things no real man would ever do. They give unrealistic expectations. Marriage is a contract between two people with mutual goals.”

“And here I thought you were a hedonist.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Where’s the passion? Where’s the emotion in a contract of that sort?”

“So you’re saying that you want my sisters to be shot at in the name of love and adventure?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m only saying that courtship doesn’t have to be done in the usual ways. It can be a grand, romantic gesture, or it can be something more subtle. A small gesture that shows you’re thinking of someone. That you listened to what they said, and you took the time to learn their preferences.”

“It’s nothing but moonbeams and fairy tales. Your ideals are unrealistic at best, potentially even harmful.”

“Harmful? I don’t see how insisting on a fulfilling life and finding true love could be harmful.”

“It creates unrealistic expectations. It sets my sisters up for disappointment. My union with Miss Chandler will be based on realistic goals and expectations. We had a frank conversation today. Oh, and by the way, she doesn’t read novels, her favorite food is beefsteak with butter sauce, andshe likes to play card games on a rainy day. See? I followed your instructions and learned more about her. I confirmed that neither of us is in danger of losing our heads or our hearts. It’s strictly business. And that’s the way it should be.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m marrying her, and that’s final.”

The way he was looking at her. As though he wanted to wrap his arms around her.

As though she could save him.

The catch in his voice. He was lying. Viola knew it with certainty. He thought he wanted a marriage of convenience, an absentee wife, but he didn’t. Not really. There was too much pain in his voice when he spoke of his past. And too much warmth when he spoke of his sisters.

He wasn’t unfeeling or heartless. He’d only lost the path. He needed love to find his way home again.

A dangerous line of thinking. He was probably gazing at her so intently because he was drunk.

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