“To help…as if you are providing for those less fortunate than you.” Isobel scoffed. “I assure you, Your Grace, that I am far from being less fortunate.”
“From where I am viewing the situation, your outcomes are bleak. You either listen to my proposal, or your father sells you to a monster far worse than me.”
He’s right. I know he’s right and I don’t want him to be.
She hated it, but she held her tongue.
“Allow me to show you my hand: The most important thing in my life is my business.” The Duke cleared his throat. “And I have done a fine job of tarnishing my reputation, but if I have a wife and am loyal to her, then perhaps my clients will not think so poorly of me.”
“They think so poorly of you because you steal their wives and daughters!” She threw her hands up in the air, leaning back in the chair and looking at the ceiling.
This entire arrangement he was starting to hint at was preposterous. Nobody who knew him or his reputation would expect him to marry the daughter of a penniless viscount. With his fortune, a man like him would be seeking a woman closer to his social standing.
“I thought you were going to let me finish speaking before you started passing more judgments.” The Duke gave her an amused look.
She shrugged. “I’m not good at holding my tongue.”
“As I’m learning.” There was a ghost of a smile before his gaze locked on hers.
“Back to your lecture on how you don’t steal women.”
“I don’t. I merely accept them. Who am I to reject a woman’s choice made with her own free will?” Those eyes burned into her, making a fluttering feeling appear in her stomach.
Isobel wanted to argue with him, but it would be going against the possible freedom she believed in for herself. She saw no reason why women shouldn’t be allowed to pick the paths they wanted in life. If that included dalliances with the rake in front of her, then who was she to judge them for that?
The Duke of Foxdrey held a finger to his lips when she opened her mouth again. “My club thrives on my reputation, and my clients prefer to gamble with their coin, not their women. My toppriority is to satisfy them, and if that means I must come off the marriage market, then that is what I will do.”
“Oh, will you?” She crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side. “I see what the problem is now. You cannot trick any sensible woman into marrying you, so you’ve decided to take advantage of an unfortunate situation.”
“You hardly thought I was taking advantage of you when you allowed me to kiss you.”
The rake dares to smirk at me!
Isobel’s cheeks were on fire. “Must you torment me?”
“You mean you do not enjoy our little banter?” He smirked again and got up from the desk, pacing around the room.
Normally, Father paced around the room, sucking all the air from it, leaving no room for anyone else to breathe. When the Duke paced around it, she felt the tension, but it was a different kind. The kind that left her watching him and anticipating his next move, but in a way that felt playful. Almost familiar, like taunting each other was a normal occurrence for them.
“I’m willing to play the part of the respectable family man.” He stood at the window, looking out over the garden, his back stiff. “I will play the part I need to play because the Mayfair Fox cannot fail. I built that empire with my own hands, and I’ll be damned before I let it slip.”
“And because the rest of the families in thetonhate you, you have come here.” Isobel sighed. “How long have you known who I was?”
“When I walked into the room today and saw you painting. Until then, you were only the feral darling who has disrupted two—now three—perfectly good days.”
“Your proposal is to disrupt the rest of my life.”
“Well, I need to win back the trust of theton, and you need me to save you and your family. If you are to accept me, you will know freedom, and your family’s debt will be erased.”
It was a generous offer. One that she would be a fool to refuse. And yet, there was a refusal on the tip of her tongue. She was to go to the monastery and become a nun. She would write to her sister. No man would ever control her again.
But that was only if Father didn’t sell her to a brothel first, and she had the feeling that if she didn’t come out of the study engaged to the Duke of Foxdrey, Father would be riding for the nearest brothel within minutes.
Isobel stood, holding her head high as the Duke turned to face her. “If you think you can expect my obedience and gratitude, you are sorely mistaken.”
The corner of his mouth climbed high. “I would never make the mistake of expecting your obedience.” He crossed the roomto her, his fingers beneath her chin, thumb brushing over it. “I expect nothing I haven’t earned.”
“And yet—you expect me to accept your proposal.” She licked her lips which had suddenly become dry. “Do you feel you have earned my favor enough to ask for my hand?”
