“That’s right,” Lord Kentrow agreed. “It’s rather a surprise to me that you and I haven’t met before now as a matter of fact, but I’m grateful that we have the opportunity to meet one another now. I wondered if perhaps your brother might be overstating your beauty, but I see now that he wasn’t.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Edwina said.
“Not kind, merely a statement of fact. I’m grateful to be able to spend time getting to know you today. Your brother suggested that you might like to show me around the garden.”
“I think Matthew ought to come with us. We shouldn’t go without a chaperone.”
“Nonsense,” Matthew spoke up. “Molly will go with you.” He beckoned to one of the maids standing near the door, and she approached. “My sister has a keen interest in travel,” he informed Lord Kentrow. “I’m sure she would like to hear all about your journey.”
“Very well,” Edwina agreed. “Come, Lord Kentrow, I’ll show you the garden.”
Lord Kentrow beamed and followed her out.
Edwina felt disheartened as they stepped out the door. She could tell by the way Lord Kentrow was looking at her that he felt something for her, and she wasn’t pleased about it. She had dealt with enough gentlemen in her life who had responded to her that way, and she didn’t want to have to worry about it with him.
At least, he was being respectful. He walked a proper distance from her and didn’t leer at her or try to get too close. “I really am glad to have the opportunity to get to know you,” he said, “but you don’t have to listen to stories about my travels. I’m sure your brother was only trying to make it easy for us to find something to talk about, but if that would bore you, I don’t want you to have to listen to something you have no interest in.”
“My brother was right, actually,” Edwina replied. “He knows that I have an interest in travel, and I’m sure he thought I would genuinely like to hear about your journey—which happens to be true. Tell me, where did you go?”
“Well, I’ve just returned from Rome,” Lord Kentrow said. He looked at her hopefully, almost as if he couldn’t believe they had struck so easily upon something they could talk about.
“I’ve always dreamed of seeing Rome,” Edwina mused wistfully. “Was it beautiful?”
“It was the most wonderful place I saw the whole time I was away,” Lord Kentrow confessed. “I saw Paris and Barcelona and Athens, but Rome was uniquely wonderful. I could happily have stayed there for the rest of my life.”
“Did you consider doing that?”
“I daydreamed about it,” he laughed, “but I could never have truly done it. I had to come home. I have responsibilities to see to. It’s time for me to marry, and I need to make sure I handle that. I can’t allow myself to spend the rest of my life doing the things I’d like to do with no thought to my duty.”
It was odd. He was very like the Duke. Both gentlemen seemed to have a high regard for the idea of doing their duty. But unlike the Duke, Lord Kentrow had made the decision to put an end to his fun and turn his attention to the future.
“Do you know who you’re going to marry?” she asked him.
He gave her a searching look. “I do have an idea in mind.”
Edwina felt instant regret. She probably shouldn’t have asked him that question. She should have pretended ignorance about the fact that he might be here looking for a specific person to marry. Now, she had opened the door for a conversation on the subject, and while she did want to be polite to him, she had no desire for any sort of discussion on the topic of whether she would be an ideal wife.
She cleared her throat as the Duke’s words returned to her. “I’ve heard it said by some that finding the perfect wife is a very difficult task indeed. That it can take years.”
“I suppose so, if a gentleman is holding out for perfection.” He sounded a bit bemused. “Personally, I don’t believe perfection is something that exists. I would never wait to find someone perfect to marry.”
“I see.” Edwina wondered why that bothered her so much. She had criticized the Duke when he had spoken about looking for a perfect duchess—but over time, of course, she had come to realize that she was just the same. She also didn’t wish to marry until she found someone perfect. The only difference in her case was that she didn’t believe such a man existed.
She and Lord Kentrow had nothing in common, she realized. He was a perfectly kind gentleman, and she did like him and was enjoying their time together. But she could never marry someone who saw life so very differently from the way she did. She couldn’t marry someone who thought marriage was so important that finding the right person didn’t really matter. It went against everything she believed in, and she couldn’t allow herself even to consider such a thing.
It was no surprise to find herself turning away from yet another suitor, but it was a relief. It meant she wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen when the Duke found out about this little meeting. She would be able to tell him the truth—that she had been pressured into it but that she hadn’t wanted it and didn’t care for Lord Kentrow.
When did I start caring about what the Duke thinks of me—that’s the real question here.
She didn’t know the answer, and it plagued her for the rest of their walk. She found herself hard-pressed to focus on what Lord Kentrow was saying, even though she was interested in the tales of his travels that he had to share, and by the time they made it back to the house, she knew that she wouldn’t have been able to recount a single thing he had said.
CHAPTER 12
“So, was I right?” Matthew asked Edwina as they ate their lunch together. It was only the two of them in the dining room—their father had gone to take a nap—and the lunch was a light one. Edwina found herself without much of an appetite. She was considering leaving the table altogether—but Matthew’s question stopped her.
“Were you right about what?” she asked him.
“About Isaac,” he clarified. “I thought you and he might be a good match. I know how important it is to you to find a kind man, and he’s very kind, isn’t he?”
