Damn and blast. On the one hand, Greys was mildly disturbed that his friend fully comprehended the nature of his request; on the other, he was relieved to know she hadn’t made her way alone to Knight House unguarded.
The notion had been a horrific one.
Greys dropped his gaze to the glow on his cigar, ignoring the instinct to deny that anything untoward had happened. He and Chase had known one another too long for him to put forth such a blatant falsehood.
Although best not to share any details.
“She’ll not want for anything,” Greys began making his case. “You know that. And I’ll consider it my greatest privilege to see to her happiness. She’ll have free rein decorating, shopping—all of it.”
“Good Lord, man, are you trying to sell me a horse, or do you genuinely care for my sister?” Cigar forgotten, Chaswick rose from his desk to walk to the window. “I won’t bother asking if you love her. You’ve been honest enough on that count. Unless you’ve since seen the error of your ways?”
Greys had spoken of his disdain for the romantic emotion on several occasions. But staring at Chaswick’s back, Greys nearly recanted his former opinion.
Had he? Changed his mind about love, that was?
Chase turned around and propped his backside against the windowsill. “Diana wanted first to be a dancer. She insisted it was her dream.” The baron shook his head. “She required rather a lot of convincing from Bethany but was eventually persuaded that when two people are right for one another, neither need worry about giving up their interests or their passions. Because it would be part of what drew them together in the first place.”
Greys stiffened. “I’ll ensure she has every opportunity to advance her interests,” he said. “Within reason.”
“That’s the tricky part, Greys.” Chase removed the towel from around his neck. “Diana and Collette aren’t like other debutantes. They’ve seen the world from a different paradigm; therefore, they don’t think the same as you and I”
“I realize this.” Greys held his stoic demeanor even as something inside surged unexpectedly. “That’s…part of her charm,” he admitted.
Diana’s perspective on life excited him, dash it all. More than it ought to have. With a bit of training and a guiding hand, she would make a suitable marchioness.
“So long as you aren’t of a mind to change her.” Chaswick scowled.
“Not change, her—improve her.”
“Then my answer is no.”
“Damn your eyes, Chaswick,” Greys' demeanor broke. “I’ve ruined her. I’m here to do the proper thing. Even now, it’s possible…” He tugged at the lace on his wrist and was chagrined when it ripped right off the end of his sleeve. Bunching it into his fist, he shook his head and got to the point. “We don’t have a choice here.” This meeting was urgent because he’d made it so.
He sent Chase an exasperated look, but his friend ignored it.
“As long as I have breath in my body, my sisters will always have a choice.” Gone was the even-tempered gentleman who’d offered him the cigar. “Diana doesn’t need improvement. She’s perfect just as she is, and if that’s not good enough for you, I’m withholding my permission for you to offer for her.”
“I know she’s perfect.” Greys erupted again. “She’s a god damn goddess.” The words might as well have strangled him. “But that’s not the sort of woman one makes into his marchioness.” Wasn’t it? When had his thinking become so muddied?
“Then why are you here?”
Greys was no longer sitting but pacing back and forth across the study. “Because it’s the right thing to do. I’m not about to leave her unprotected. You more than anyone ought to understand that.”
Anyone else and this meeting would have been over ten minutes ago. Greys would have followed her brother into the drawing-room, dropped onto one knee, and the lady would have accepted his formal proposal most graciously.
Greys inhaled and summoned one of the last rational thoughts he could find in his befuddled brain.
“I don’twantto change her.” He tossed the damn lace across the room. “I want toprotecther.”
Chaswick narrowed his eyes. “Go on.”
“I doubt I could change her even if I wanted to. What I mean by improving her is—that I want toarmher. I want to provide her with the tools she’ll need to not only manage the responsibilities as my wife but to… excel in every aspect.” And by God, as Greys spoke, he could picture her reigning over theTon. With her beauty, charisma, and the right amount of polish, no one would dare question her place in society.
And Grey’s life wouldn’t be the anemic existence he’d anticipated if he had gone ahead with his plans to marry Lady Isabella.
Which was unnerving, but more importantly, exciting as hell.
“Much better.” Chase reached for his forgotten cigar as though Greys hadn’t just expressed a most profound epiphany. “I’ll have Bethany send for her. Shall we discuss contracts then?”
