“I see.”
“Do you? You are the Duke of Norfolk.” She stiffened. “And I should have mentioned again how sorry I am about your father. I know you had not thought of being Duke quite so early.”
“I had not, but one grows accustomed to things after a while. It’s an incomparable honour—at least according to my mother.”
“I suppose I should be a countess if I married the Earl,” Theo said miserably. “And perhaps in time I would not mindquiteso much that he is so . . . old.” She brightened. “Although perhaps his age will mean he will die soon and leave me a rich widow.”
Nathanial laughed. “I’m sure he would be flattered to hear it.”
“I must find some solace where I can. After all, I cannot find it in his age. Or his hairline.” As for his teeth—she hadn’t evenseenthem. She supposed she would be lucky if he possessed any at all. “And he will not be deterred by my lack of dowry.”
“He doesn’t want you for your money,” Nathanial said dryly. “He wants an heir. His estate is entailed away to his nephew, if I remember rightly, but with the help of his son, he couldbreak the entail.”
Well, that explained the way he had looked at her hips. She suppressed a shudder of disgust. “I don’twantto bear his sons. If we even have sons at all. What happens if I don’t? I become his third deceased wife?”
This was all starting to sound very Tudor.
Beside her, Nathanial’s eyes were fixed on the distant trees. The quartet started up again in the ballroom, and the sound of mirth carried on the wind.
“We should return to the ball,” he said suddenly, offering her his arm. “If my mother sees me with you, at least she will not accuse me of shirking my duties.”
Theo snorted. “Only if you’re on the cusp of proposing. Doesn’t she want you to marry?”
He stiffened, and she looked up into his face, cursing her stupid, loose tongue. He guided her through the doors again, and she stumbled over her words.
“Did I offend you, Nate? I’m sorry.”
“Not at all,” he said with a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Enjoy the remainder of the ball.” He bowed over her hand, and Theo watched his tall figure as he strode away, exiting the ballroom despite the debutantes that trailed in his wake like abandoned flowers. They sent her scornful, jealous glances as they dispersed in search of better prey, and she returned to avoiding the Earl of Whitstable.
Chapter Three
Nathanial entered his study with a thoughtful air and poured himself a glass of port from his crystal decanter. The ball was still in full swing, and no doubt his mother would notice his absence and scold him for it, but he needed space in which to think.
Only if you’re on the cusp of proposing.
He had not been on the cusp of proposing. The idea of marrying Theo, a girl he’d known since she was in muddy petticoats, was a preposterous one, and he had no sooner dismissed it than it had taken hold.
Really, Beaumont shouldn’t be forcing his daughter into marrying lecherous fossils. Then, there would be no need for Nathanial to even consider matrimony, and he could go back to his life as a carefree bachelor.
As carefree as anyone could be with a mother like his breathing down his neck and insisting he marry.
He tossed the drink back as he sank into his favourite armchair. Marriage was a serious business,and not one he contemplated lightly, but if he married Theo, it would free him from his mother’s attentions. And Theo would no doubt suit him better than the insipid young ladies his mother had presented to him this evening.
Of course, this was assuming Theo would accept his suit. He would have to make his intentions plain; he was offering to save her from Whitstable on the understanding that this would not be a love match. Considering her choice was between him and Whitstable, however, he flattered himself that she would not reject him.
He poured himself another glass of port, decision made. Tomorrow, he would call on Theo.
In dedication to his newfound cause, Nathanial prevailed upon himself to call on Theo the next morning at around noon. To his relief, he found her alone in the drawing room, unaccompanied by either her younger sister or her mother.
She looked up as he entered, and her face creased in confusion. “Nate? What are you doing here so early?”
“I see my reputation precedes me.” He noticed her eyes were a little red-rimmed, and he extended a hand, which she took at once. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course. That is—well.” She smiled wanly at him. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me why you’re here. How did you contrive to avoid Nott?”
“I told him I would see myself in,” Nathanial said, accepting the seat beside Theo and retaining his grip in her hand. “He and I are old friends. But tell me, Theo, what’s the matter? Are thingsso terrible?”
“Oh, notterrible. Or,” she added, “Mama would not say it is so bad. I’m to be a countess, you know, and that should make up for . . . Well, for everything else.”
