‘Have you finished?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He smiled again, those blue eyes crinkling at the corners. She suspected it was a smile that had won over countless women, but she would not let it affect her, so she kept her expression impassive and ignored the fluttering in the middle of her chest.
‘Look,’ he continued, making a lie of the statement that he had finished talking. ‘I know it’s a bit unconventional, but it is obvious you hate all this marriage mart business, and you’re about to face another Season. What will it be—your second? Third?’
‘Fourth,’ Margaret said, forgetting her intention to say nothing.
‘And if you don’t find a husband at the end of your fourth, will there be a fifth? A sixth?’
Margaret’s jaw tightened. That was a prospect she was trying not to think about.
‘We wouldn’t have to actually marry, but becoming engaged would save you from having to go through another Season, which you clearly abhor.’ He continued to smile at her in that unsettling manner. ‘So, what do you think? Our engagement could be the window you are seeking. It could provide you with a means to escape from all those weekend parties, balls, soirees and so on, which you obviously do not enjoy, and you’ll never again be paraded in front of the strutting roosters.’
‘I can see you only have my wellbeing at heart,’ she said, packing as much derision into those words as she could, and once again holding out her hand for the drawing. ‘But I would never—’
‘My dear, this is where you are hiding!’ A shrill voice cut through the air, causing Margaret’s body to tense. ‘Look who I’ve found.’
She turned to see her mother clasping the arm of Baron Edgeware with an iron grip lest he attempt to make a run for it. And, judging by the stricken expression on the Baron’s face, she was certain the moment she released him, that was exactly what he would do.
‘I told him he simply must meet my daughter, but it has taken us an age to find where you are hiding yourself.’
Her mother looked at Baron Edgeware as if expecting him to agree, but the poor man was staring at the door, no doubt formulating his own escape plan.
‘Oh, you’re here with the Duke of Rosedale,’ her mother added unnecessarily, making a low curtsey and pulling on Baron Edgeware’s arm as she did so, causing the man to almost tumble.
‘My daughter has attracted the attention of the most eligible man available,’ she said to the Baron as he attempted to stand up straight. ‘As I said, she is a young woman whom any man would be happy to take as a wife, which I’m sure the Duke can see as well.’
Margaret’s teeth clenched so tightly she suspected she was in danger of chipping a tooth.
‘The Baron is also looking for a bride,’ her mother continued. ‘And I told him you won’t find a better wife than my daughter. While she is not considered to be the prettiest debutante available, and she is now facing her fourth Season, these are advantages, not disadvantages, when seeking a bride.’ She looked back at the struggling Baron. ‘It means she will be eternally grateful to any man who finally offers for her hand, and will make a good, obedient wife.’
Her mother beamed at the two men, oblivious to the fact that she was humiliating her daughter.
Neither man responded, and Margaret took a quick look in the Duke’s direction, certain that his reaction would cause her to feel an even greater level of mortification. As expected, he was staring at her mother with a mixture of shock and disbelief.
It was a look she had become accustomed to seeing on men’s faces over the last three years, and would no doubt be seeing again in the coming Season. As she watched the Duke watching her mother, a wicked thought occurred to her. She turned back to her mother and the imprisoned Baron.
‘Baron Edgeware, I wish you well in your search for the perfect bride but I’m afraid it won’t be me.’
Relief crossed the man’s face.
‘That is because, before you entered, the Duke of Rosedale asked for my hand.’
She turned to face the Duke and smiled at him, a gleeful smile full of delicious revenge, letting him know he was not the only one who could play games and in future he had best think twice before he toyed with her.
‘And I accepted.’
Chapter Two
Aloud shriek cut the air, almost knocking Jacob off his feet. Mrs Whitmore released her hold on Baron Edgeware and pushed the man away, sending him flying across the room and into the arms of a waiting chair. She then stepped towards Jacob, her arms outstretched as if to embrace him.
Jacob suspected that his face now bore the same look of terror he’d seen on Baron Edgeware a moment ago.
‘My darling, darling girl!’ Mrs Whitmore cried, and thankfully it was her daughter who was on the receiving end of the hug, along with much vigorous rocking from side to side. ‘I hoped and prayed you would find a husband this weekend, but never imagined it would be the Duke! And to think I was prepared to settle for a baron.’ She sent an accusatory look towards the door through which Edgeware had quietly slunk.
She released her daughter, who stepped backwards, looking as if the life had almost been squeezed out of her.
‘Mr Whitmore is going to have to eat his words,’ the woman said to Jacob. ‘He told me to leave well enough alone. That if Margaret didn’t wish to marry, I shouldn’t try to force matters. I can now tell him I managed to secure a marriage to a duke, no less.’
