“And were you? Discouraged?”
“Not the least. I did go for the marriage license.”
“You mean to tell me that she behaved in such an embarrassing way, openly choosing public humiliation over being married to you, and you still want to marry her?”
“Miss Arabella miscalculated the depth of my own determination.”
“Or your sanity.”
“I assure you I am being completely logical.”
“I am sure there has to be a dictionary lying around here. To redefine the meaning of words.”
“Miss Arabella is perfect for the role I have in mind. Her little scheme shows that she will fight-”
“Mostly you,” Morgan interrupted.
“And that she has backbone,” Gerald continued unfazed. “She will need it since she is about to face my family. And as for my reputation? It will be salvaged. After all, the Sunshine of the Ton decided to marry me.”
“Coerced,” Morgan coughed.
Gerald eyed him warningly.
“What I am hearing, my dear friend,” Morgan triumphed, “is that you met your match.”
At the words, Gerald drained his glass. If not his match, he sure found something entertaining. Her.
CHAPTER 7
Mistaken Identities
“But Miss, you have such exquisite taste. And yellow is not your color. This color is barely anyone’s color. Are you sure this is what you are going to wear?”
Winnie was looking at the yellow gown she wore especially for the promenade with the Duke with disgust. Arabella wouldn’t, of course, look at her best for the occasion. It didn’t matter that the Duke had figured out her plan. She refused to yield. The endgame was still the same, only the rules changed.
To underline her determination, she took out a hatbox she had opened just once. It was a gift from an aunt. And it was horrid, over the top, adorned with fake flowers and fruits, a fashion abomination.
Arabella looked at the hat, and her heart constricted. She loved fashion, she had an eye for color and texture, and had designedseveral of her gowns on her own. To be publicly seen wearing this breakfast table centerpiece pained her heart. But this was war, and sacrifices had to be made.
“And fetch me the green shawl, Winnie.”
The doorbell rang, and Arabella’s heart jumped.Just nerves, she decided to ignore it. She descended to meet the Duke. The door was open, and she stood in front of him, a fake sweet smile on her lips.
He threw one look at her, and she saw the moment he realized what she had done. She waited for the flinch, for the excuse, the barely suppressed horror. Or even better, for the outburst that would have her sent to her room to change. He was all dressed in strict black, and she had wax grapes dangling close to her ears, for crying out loud.
Instead, his expression did something strange. It softened. Arabella realized with dread that she had lost the first bout.
“Miss Arabella, you look… delectable,” he said, amused.
Arabella blinked in irritation, but the battle had just begun, and she was not going to be deterred by a setback. Perhaps he thought she didn’t have the nerve to walk among the ton looking like… this. He made the wrong bet.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said with a smile. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” he offered his arm. “The day is warm. I expect Hyde Park to be filled with people.”
Arabella wanted to kick him in the shin. He was provoking her openly. He didn’t take into account that she would walk around with tangerines on her heard everyday if it meant not marrying him.
She took his arm, and they walked out on the street, Winnie following them away from earshot. The day was indeed splendid, with the sun shining, and Arabella started to worry if the wax fruit would withstand the heat.
