She scoffed. “You know that is not how it works. The harder we fight it, the more people will wonder why. They will think we are hiding something, and in lieu of direct evidence, they will concoct their own.” She started pacing again as her pulse quickened with worry. “This is precisely why I did not want to come in the first place. This is precisely what I was trying to avoid!”
“I am sorry,” he said, and he sounded as if he meant it. “I did not mean…”
“It makes little difference,” she snapped. “The damage is done and there is no changing it.”
As she paced, Lucy worked through in her head what was likely to happen from here on out. Her father would be the first to approach her, positively thrilled that she was seen with the Duke. Lady Fairvale would be next, and even if Lucy turned her away, she would persist. She would insist on telling all that her event was where the Duke met his future bride.
There is nothing I can do… no changing it… and worse still, when nothing comes of this, the natural assumption will be that I am at fault.
Lucy did not harbor aspirations of marriage. She did not secretly desire to meet the man of her dreams. But that did not mean that she was against the notion entirely. One day, she always thought, she would have to marry and that when she did, it would be to someone who she wanted.
Who would have her now? Who would want her after this? She would be a pariah of the ton, and her stepmother, knowing her to be damaged goods, would likely marry her off to the first man who offered his hand.
“There is one solution to consider.” The Duke stood perfectly still, in complete control of his emotions.
“Does it end with me fleeing England and living my life on the road?”
“Nothing as drastic as that,” he said. “You are right in what you say. Like it or not, there is no escaping this situation. Not without reputations being ruined.”
“Wonderful.”
“That is unless we turn a brewing scandal into a celebration…” He looked right at her, and Lucy’s stomach clenched. “Marry me,” he said matter-of-factly. “Marry me and no one, anywhere, will be able to judge you.”
Lucy looked at the Duke blankly.
She looked for the humor on his eyes. She looked for the laughter on his lips. She looked for anything to reveal this suggestion for what it was: a joke. It had to be!
As should have been expected by now, the Duke was the picture of calm. He did not blink. He did not balk. He did not cower away. He was being deadly serious.
“What?” she blurted finally. “Marry you? Is this a joke?”
“Does it sound as if I am joking.”
“You must be!” she cried, letting her peril take hold of her. “That is all it can be. I…” She tried to laugh but it was a pitiful stammer. “I cannot marry you. It is absurd!”
“And why is that?”
“Because… because… because…” She searched for an answer that made sense. One that existed beyond her own misgivings. “I thought you said that you did not want to be here, as much as I? That this event disgusted you. Your words.”
“I did,” he said. “And it does.”
“And yet here you are, trying to take advantage of it!”
“I do no such thing,” he said coolly. “Were the circumstances different, I would not ask such a thing. In fact, I am starting to regret saving you from Lord Barrington…” He sneered. “Even from afar, the man’s effects are felt like a leech sucking blood.”
“But you did save me,” she pressed. “And now, at the first chance, you seek to use me. No…” She shook her head. “You are not… why would you want this? You are a duke. Your name will be fine, scandal or no.”
“Maybe I am just that chivalrous?” he said dryly. “I see a maid in need and cannot help but save her.”
She curled her upper lip. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“You? No…” He chuckled. “You are far too quick for that.”
“Then why?” she demanded. “Why do this?”
The Duke considered her. His brow furrowed. His lips pressed together. And once more, his dark eyes searched her as if he could see right through her.
Only this time, Lucy was able to see through him too.
