She punctuated the remark with a bright, expectant smile. Neil inclined his head.
“She slept poorly,” he explained. “I instructed her nurse to let her rest a little longer.”
Lord Farendale clicked his tongue. “Careful, your Grace, careful! Spoiling a child never ends well.”
Neil didn’t bother with a smile in response. What was he supposed to say? There was some truth in that, thoughhe doubted Lord Farendale and he would ever agree on whatspoilingmeant. Better, perhaps, to let the matter rest; experience had taught him that debate with such men was seldom worth the breath.
“I had a thought,” Aunt Harriet declared, rescuing the conversation before it froze entirely. “Why do you not take dear Constance to look over the gardens?”
Lady Constance brightened. “Oh, I shouldlovethat.”
Neil looked around the table. Every face was turned expectantly towards him.
You’re not asking me at all,he thought darkly.You’ve decided, and I am to acquiesce. To refuse would make me appear unfeeling—the sort of thick-skinned, hard-hearted fellow who won’t dance with a nervous lady when somebody else asks him to.
“Of course,” he said at last, and saw Lady Constance’s shoulders ease. She had plainly decided that he would serve well enough as a husband. She had spent every shared moment attempting to charm him—speaking brightly, smiling sweetly, casting lingering glances when she thought he would not notice.
Neil was not a fool. He recognised courtship when it was thrust upon him. In London, it would have been easy to avoid her—too many ballrooms, too many people. But here at Burenwood, there was no escape.
He pitied her, though not unkindly. Society was rarely gentle to its daughters. However beautiful, agreeable, or accomplished a young lady might be, if she passed a Season or two without securing a match, whispers began. Prospects dwindled, invitations lessened, and the comfortable path laid out for her grew narrower with each passing year. And later, when her parents tired of her or her father died, she would find herself in financial straits, too.
Lord Farendale reached for another egg. Summoning a footman with a jerk of his hand, he handed over the egg and instructed the poor fellow to peel it.
“If we are to go for a walk,” Neil said at last, “we ought to do so now.”
***
Lady Constance’s maid followed them at a respectful distance. Neil could feel eyes upon him from the house—Aunt Harriet’s gaze most of all. He was certain that if he turned, he would see faces pressed to the Blue Room window.
Wonderful.
“Your grounds are beautiful, your Grace,” Lady Constance observed, smiling up at him. “You must be a most dedicated gardener.”
“I’m afraid not, my lady. I onlyemploydedicated gardeners.”
She rewarded this with a trill of laughter, though it was hardly amusing.
“I do so adore being in the country,” she continued confidentially. “London is so noisy and crowded. I long for a little peace.”
Neil smiled faintly. “In that, we are entirely agreed.”
Her face lit up again, and guilt pricked him.She is wasting her time on me.She would make a fine wife for someone, a suitable duchess—just not his.
His duchess would be—
He cut off the thought sharply. He did notwanta duchess. He was not going to marry. And his duchess would certainly not have wry, smiling green eyes, flecked with gold, and a habit of saying the wrong thing. That wasn’t the sort of woman a duke was meant to choose for his wife.
A woman like that would never belong in his world.
“Lady Constance,” he began carefully.
She stopped at once, turning towards him, eyes wide with expectation.
“Yes?” she prompted, her voice breathless.
He hesitated, alarmed by the eagerness in her gaze.Surely, she cannot think I mean to propose here, in the garden?
“I must confess,” he said at last, choosing his words, “that your arrival was… a surprise. My aunt had not informed me of her visit.”
