***
Howdo you know who likes you for you and not your title?
The question haunted him with every step and turn he took. His dance partners were all polite and agreeable, some he would even describe as engaging, but he was under no illusions: they saw him as the duke first, and Edward not at all.
It irked, that sense that his title was more valuable than himself as a person, but then the sense of his own hypocrisy irked more, because what were these women to him other than their titles, their training, and their ability to do the job he needed them for? He’d be lying if he said he was looking to fall in love. He’d done that once. That had devastated him enough.
He looked to Fiona, who had just joined the line of country dancers with Charlotte as her partner. Her eyes were alight and she was grinning. Her discussion with Chester had clearly gone well. That was good. He wanted her to succeed. She deserved to.
Edward had introduced Fi to Chester, subtly praising her intelligence and business acumen, before leaving the two alone. She had been more than capable of making her case without his help.
So he’d focused on his own goal and went about filling out his name on dance card after dance card, trying to avoid the shrewish, the vapid, and the vain. It was unfathomable that within the small circle of thetonhe would find a woman with Fiona’s ambition and drive. But perhaps he could find one with her intelligence and honesty.
Lady Marianne was looking over at him from the edge of the dance floor. This dance was hers and he’d yet to appear. He forced a smile to his face and crossed to her. “Lady Marianne.”
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said as she curtseyed. “You’ve had a busy night. I had not realized that you were such a keen dancer.” Her tone was teasing, and he found himself enjoying the respite from the simpering he’d endured all night.
“It is a recently discovered joy.”
She grinned. “As recently discovered as your need for a wife?”
He held back a snort. It was the first time that night one of his dance partners had managed to make him laugh. “I cannot confirm nor deny that allegation. Shall we dance?” He offered her his arm.
She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow, but rather than heading toward the lines of people ready to dance, she paused. “Why don’t we take a stroll around the room? It’s not healthy to indulge one’s newfound passions at all times, Your Grace. God forbid you’re danced out before the week is done.”
He raised an eyebrow. Whether Haddington’s daughter was as perceptive as her father was and could sense his disdain for hopping about like a bug, or she was simply cunning enough to angle for a way to differentiate herself, he couldn’t tell. But she was his most promising prospect for a wife and joining in another dance was the last thing he wanted. “A turn about the room it is,” he said, negotiating their way through the crowd.
“So, why are you looking for a wife now?” she asked once they’d cleared the throng that ringed the dance floor.
The girl continued to surprise him. “That’s an unusually forward question.”
She patted his arm. “You and my father have been friends a long time, Your Grace. He appreciates how forthright you are and notices how you tend toward others with a similar honesty.”
“And he has loose lips, I take it.”
She gave him a cheeky grin. “He has a desire to strengthen the bond between our families, so yes, he may have suggested that I speak my mind.”
“And what is on your mind, my lady?”
“You were engaged to Lady Amelia for sixteen years. By all accounts, she would have been the perfect duchess. You didn’t marry her when you had the opportunity and you didn’t appear particularly affected by your broken engagement. Yet here you are, looking for a wife.”
The candid appraisal made him uncomfortable. It was part of the title, to have his actions scrutinized by his peers in drawing rooms across the country, but few people dared share their frank assessments with him in person. “Is there a question in there somewhere?”
Lady Marianne pursed her lips. “I’ve seen the women you’re choosing to spend time with—I’m flattered to be one—but I cannot see what any of us offers that your previous fiancée did not. I see no indication that you’re expecting a love match. So, whatareyou looking for?”
He could not help but flick his gaze toward the dance floor, where Fiona and Charlotte were laughing as they bobbed and weaved. He had not married Amelia because she’d had such high hopes for their union, and his soul would always be with the red-headed firebrand who’d taken up residence in his heart.
“I’m looking for a wife who is content with managing my house and bearing my children, and won’t desire any more from me.”Someone with no further expectations.
Lady Marianne’s lips pursed thoughtfully and a crease appeared between her brows. “While I appreciate you being honest, Your Grace, I do hope that you’re being honest with yourself. That you will truly be happy with the arrangement you’re describing.”
He would never be happy with a life that wasn’t spent with Fiona. But then Luella’s words came back to him.We will eat her alive.They echoed his mother’s.A fish out of water dies gasping.
No, he would simply have to settle and learn to be at peace with it. “It’s the only arrangement I can offer.”
She nodded decisively and slipped her hand from his arm. “In that case, Your Grace, you may dance with me a second time tonight.” She curtseyed and excused herself, and he was left feeling atilt. He hailed one of the passing footmen, taking a brandy snifter from the tray, and knocked back half the glass. It burned on its way down.
His cousin sidled up next to him. “Liquor?” Graham asked. “I haven’t seen you drink spirits in an age. But I haven’t seen you forced to enter the marriage mart either. Has the gaggle of young, willing women overwhelmed you?”
