Marge looked up from the small dress she’d been mending, her needle suspended mid-stitch. “I beg your pardon, dear?”
“The Duke,” Sybil said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her with careful precision. “He asked me to marry him. Actually proposed marriage. To me.”
Beverly set down her sewing entirely, her dark eyes wide with surprise. “Good heavens. That’s… unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” Sybil let out a shaky laugh that bordered on hysteria. “Insane is more like it. Beverly, the man barely knows my name. Three days ago, I was a complete stranger whohappened to be in the right place when his daughter fell from her horse. And now, he wants to make me his duchess?”
She began pacing the small room, her movements sharp and agitated. “It’s madness. Complete and utter madness.”
“Well,” Marge said slowly, “what did you tell him?”
“I told him I needed time to think.” Sybil stopped pacing to stare at her friends. “But the more I do think about it, the more convinced I become that the man is nothing but a smooth-talking rake who’s decided I might be useful to him.”
“A rake?” Beverly’s eyebrows rose. “Sybil, that seems rather harsh. From what I’ve observed, His Grace appears to be quite devoted to his daughters.”
“Oh, he’s devoted to them, certainly. Devoted enough to marry a convenient stranger who can manage them for him.” Sybil’s voice grew bitter. “You should have heard the way he spoke about it, Beverly. So calculated, so practiced. ‘I’ve always had a thing for brunettes,’ he said, as though my hair color were some kind of qualification for matrimony.”
Marge and Beverly exchanged a glance.
“What?” Sybil demanded, catching the look between them.
“Nothing,” Beverly said quickly. “It’s just… are you quite certain that’s how he meant it?”
“How else could he have meant it?” Sybil threw her hands up in frustration. “The man was practically purring when he said it. And then…” She stopped, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Then what?” Marge prompted gently.
“He went on about desires and even kissed my gloves,” Sybil whispered, as though admitting to some terrible sin. “Not a proper salute but… lingering. Intimate. The way a man kisses a woman he’s trying to seduce.”
The room fell quiet for a moment. Then Beverly spoke, her voice thoughtful.
“Sybil, dear, forgive me for asking, but… is it possible you’re frightened because he affected you?”
“I am not frightened,” Sybil said quickly. Too quickly. “I’m simply being cautious. I’ve seen what happens when women trust charming men who make pretty promises.”
The pain in her voice was unmistakable. Marge set aside her mending entirely and reached for Sybil’s hand.
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re thinking about Emmie, aren’t you?”
Sybil’s composure cracked. “How can I not think about her? That… that creature who ruined her was exactly like this. Charming, confident, full of smooth words and practicedgestures. He made Emmie feel special, chosen, until he got what he wanted from her.”
“But Sybil,” Beverly said gently, “there’s a rather significant difference between what happened to your sister and what the Duke is proposing.”
“Is there?” Sybil pulled her hand free from Marge’s grasp. “Both men wanted something from a woman. Both were willing to say whatever was necessary to get it.”
“Emmie’s seducer wanted her virtue,” Beverly pointed out. “He took it and abandoned her. The Duke is offering you legal marriage, a title, and resources to rebuild your life’s work. If he only wanted to use you, why would he offer you so much in return?”
Sybil opened her mouth to argue then closed it again. She hadn’t considered that.
“And,” Marge added quietly, “from what I saw during the fire, His Grace didn’t hesitate to risk his own safety to help you save those children. That doesn’t strike me as the behavior of a man interested only in his own gain.”
“You don’t understand,” Sybil said desperately. “Men like him… they know exactly how to manipulate women. How to make us feel important, needed, desired, until we agree to whatever they want.”
Beverly was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft but steady.
“I knew a man like that once,” Beverly said. “Charming, handsome, full of pretty compliments. He told me he loved me, promised we’d marry just as soon as he could arrange things properly.”
Sybil turned to look at her friend, hearing something new in her tone.
