“It all depends on how quick he is to train. No husband is perfect,” Cassandra allowed, and then added, conspiratorially, “If all else fails, the offer of our hospitality is still open. We will have the coach ready at midnight.” With those words, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
“The coach ready at midnight?” Matt repeated, intrigued.
“You would not understand,” Miss Reverly said dismissively. As if she was the queen of Sheba, she moved to the middle of the room and sat on one of the many brocade upholstered settees. “Speak your piece, Your Grace. Let us hurry through this. I have plans for the evening.”
Willa had learned long ago that when one was petite and female, she’d best be willing to know her own mind. Especially since Society believed a woman shouldn’t expect very much from life. That she was really little better than a bauble, a pretty ornament.
Well, Willa had learned from her struggle with blank pieces of paper that she had no desire to be the wife of a man who behaved as if she was merely a task on his tally list.
She had been honest with Cassandra—she yearned for what her friends had discovered, even though she wasn’t quite certain what exactly that was. Or if she was even worthy of it. She felt pale and insipid when compared to the way her lovely friends took hold of life and found purpose in it.
Of course, after years of watching her mother, Willa knew she didn’t want a man who doted on his mistresses more than his wife. That would not make her happy.
She was also discovering it had been easy to release Camberly from his promise when he wasn’t standing in front of her. The duke was a good deal—no, agreatdeal—more handsome than she remembered.
In a capital filled with beautiful people, there wasn’t a male in London who could be compared to him. Not in height or in dark, singular looks. Few had that square jaw that suggested character, or such a straight nose, or finely proportioned, even features. Even his ears were excellently formed, and Willa never admired ears... but she’d noticed, and approved of, his.
Camberly also did not need padding in his jacket. He had a horseman’s build. His shoulders were broad and his muscles long. Her imagination did not rebel at the thought of seeinghimnaked.
She was also partial to deep blue eyes. Poet’s eyes, Cassandra had once called them when she’d been half daffy in love with him herself. But then, Cassandra had always fancied poets.
Willa did not. Not any longer.
Or, at least, that is what she told herself, in spite of the strange fluttering in her belly at being in this room alone with Camberly.
His hair was damp. There was mud on his boots and breeches. He’d come for her, his costume said. He’d riddenhardto reach her.
Perhaps she was wrong about him—?
She quickly scrubbed the errant thought from her mind. One thing she’d learned from her father was that one must watch what men do, not what they say. The duke’s absence had been too great an insult, and Willa did have her pride. She’d hear what he had to say, and then throw his words back in his face. She’d been quite successful so far in their interview. It was obvious Camberly didn’t know what to do with her.
And then he surprised her. He left the room.
He shut the door behind him.
She found herself completely alone.
For the briefest moment, she debated going after him—
Oh, no, she wouldnotfollow after him. Even though she was brimming with curiosity—
There was a knock. Before she could decide to answer, the door opened. The Duke of Camberly swept inside, a pleasant smile on his oh-too-striking face.
“Miss Reverly, I’m honored you have a few moments for me.” He sounded... sincere.
He shut the door and walked toward her. “Please, don’t rise. Sit right there being your beautiful self.” He bowed with a great deal more respect than he’d shown her earlier. “I havepinedthese last few months for the opportunity to see you again.”
Ah, so this was his game: placating her.
Willa relished saying, “You have ‘pined’ for me? Pined? As if you were a tree?” She widened her eyes and batted her lashes, pretending to have bubbles for brains.
And he laughed.
The laughter caught her off guard. It was full-throated, strong, easy, and a far cry from the sound she imagined an arrogant duke would make.
He sat on the settee beside her and indicated the door with one hand. “Willa, I wanted to start again. I know I sounded silly, but sometimes being ridiculous is needed to break the tension.”
Willa.He’d used her given name. It was the first time she’d heard it from his lips.
