“Forgive me,” Lord Ashbury said carefully. “For I do not mean to ask you to repeat yourself, Your Grace, but did you just say –”
“That I am here to ask permission for your daughter’s hand in marriage, yes,” he said with a toothy grin. “A tad unorthodox, yes. Certainly unexpected. But the heart wants what it wants, and who am I to deny it.”
“I was not aware you knew our daughter.”
“We have met recently,” he said. “Yesterday at the garden party, and before that at Lord Hawthorne’s dinner party. Both times, we had rather…” He looked at Miss Sophia and flashed his eyes wickedly. “… enlightening conversations. I must commend you both for raising such a fine daughter. Was she not so, she certainly would not have captured my heart as she did.”
He eyed Miss Sophia closely, searching for a hint of the woman who he had met on those occasions.
Gabriel could not say precisely why she intrigued him so. Putting aside her beauty, most would think that he and she were like water and oil, as opposite as could be. But he had seen a hidden edge to her, one that was sharp and cutting. She kept it close, she refused to reveal it unless under duress, but it was there.
And then there was that kiss…
“This is all very surprising,” Lord Ashbury said, clearing his throat. “Truly, Your Grace, we did not expect such a thing.”
“Surprising in a good way, I hope.”
“Of course,” the lord was sure to say. “Do not take our… shock as offence, Your Grace. On the contrary, we are nothing but thrilled to hear the interest you have taken in our daughter.”
“Am I to take that as a yes?” he pressed. “An agreement to my terms?”
Gabriel had no doubt that Lord Ashbury would give his blessing.
Yes, there was the little matter of Gabriel’s reputation, one that flew in direct contrast to Lord Ashbury’s and how the man held himself. But Gabriel was a duke, Lord Ashbury was a viscount, and Gabriel knew that he could have asked the man to kill if he wished it. And Lord Ashbury would do just that!
The fact that Lord Ashbury had no choice in the matter, and seemed to recognize it, brought Gabriel untold amounts of pleasure.
“We would be delighted for you to marry our daughter,” Lord Ashbury said, his tone clipped. “It would…” He grimaced. “Be an honor.”
“Wonderful!” Gabriel clapped his hands.
“Of course, the matter of her dowry must be discussed. As well as –”
“Yes, yes.” He waved them down. “All to be bartered over. For now, it is enough to know that you give us your blessing. Let us save such talks of business for a later date, yes? And do not fear…” He winked. “I can be more than fair.”
Oh yes, they despised him. Then again, most in the ton did.
Gabriel did not spend much longer at Ashbury House. Once the decision was agreed upon, he elected to leave so he might begin the arduous process of arranging the marriage license and everything else that went into a wedding.
“I will be in touch shortly,” he told them once they walked him to the front door.
They stood back from him, as if worried to get close. And Miss Sophia stood back further still. She had her head bowed, she refused to look at him, and Gabriel wondered what was going on in her head. Surely, she had not changed her mind? Even if she had, he doubted that she was the type to say it.
“We look forward to it,” Lord Ashbury said sharply.
“Lord Ashbury… Lady Ashbury…” Gabriel bowed deeply. “It has been a pleasure. And Miss Sophia.” He looked at his future bride, waiting for her head to snap up. She did so slowly, and behind her large brown eyes he saw…I am not sure. Fear? Excitement? Impossible to say, but that just speaks to how well trained she is.“As always, it was a pleasure to see you.”
Gabriel skipped from the house, his mood surprisingly buoyant.
He had never wanted to marry, forced into such things thanks to his pesky father. Even so, he would be lying if he said there was not a part of him that was excited, and it had everything to do with the bride in question.
It was a marriage of convenience, yes, but all that did was soften the expectation of married life. Really, his excitement pertained to seeing his new bride once she was free from her parents and able to do as she pleased. Had he been right about her? Or was his reading as wrong as wrong could be?
Time would tell, he supposed.
CHAPTER 9
“Sophia, a word, please.” Sophia’s father called to her as she walked past the drawing room.
