“I scarcely know him.”
“Then a long engagement would be best.”
“No!” The word burst out of her. Her father raised his eyebrows in surprise. She took a deep breath. “I may not know Thornwick, but I know I want to be married. And I am attracted to him. And he’s a duke.”
“I didn’t think you cared about titles, dearest.”
“I don’t. But Mother does. Along with the rest of the world. And to have gone so long with no marriage proposals was so shameful, Papa.” She could feel her lip tremble. She was such a baby. “It rather makes up for no one wanting me for so many years that a duke wants me now.”
Her father was thoughtful. “Yes, but you see, I always anticipated . . . well, I was wrong. And there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of just because young men these days can’t recognize a treasure like yourself. If you want to get married and you like Thornwick, you know I’ve already given my blessing to the marriage.”
“Yes, Papa. Thank you.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek before leaving his study.
It was normal to be unsure before marriage. But once they were married, she would fall in love with her husband. How could she not? Thornwick was giving her what she wanted most, a chance to be important in someone else’s life, to be a wife and a mother. And to have a position in the world where she would be well-thought-of. So she might start to think well of herself, too.
Besides, his feelings superseded hers. Thornwick needed to love her, want her, desire her. She had to ensure that. No more settling for friendship. She needed devotion. She deserved devotion.
No. She didn’t deserve it, but she craved it with every bit of her being.
Her own feelings would come in time.
“It would be highly irregular for me to do what you want, George.” Sir Josiah Bastable wiped the back of his neck with a handkerchief. The two men were in his office, George having stormed the Lovelock bank as soon as it was open in the morning, demanding to see Sir Josiah.
Sir Josiah’s father had been the founder of the Bastable bank, and Sir Josiah, after inheriting the bank, was knighted in reward for sizable loans made to the government to pay for the extremely expensive Napoleonic Wars. Sir Josiah had none of his father’s financial finesse and, upon attaining his knighthood, quickly sold the Bastable bank and its assets to Edward Lovelock. But Sir Josiah still had a post, although largely honorary, in the Lovelock bank.
“I understand,” George said. “And I would not ask if it were not for the interests of someone else.”
“Oh.” Sir Josiah’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes. I forgot. Lady Phoebe Finch, your other chess partner. You’re so good to watch out for her. Although,” he frowned, “I would have thought her father would be asking about Thornwick’s finances, not you. And well before the public announcement of the betrothal.”
“Her father, perhaps, has become forgetful in his dotage?” As far as George knew, Abingdon was as sharp as ever, but a misleading question was not a lie. “And a good family friend might be asked to stand in, as it were, after the fact?”
“Of course. Well, there are some sound fellows in the bank I might ask some questions of. Ones who keep their ears to the ground and their eyes on the pennies. I’ll poke around and tell you what I find out when I come to your house tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Chess, Danforth. Wednesday night. Are you well? You look so disheveled. And no wig. And you seem quite out of sorts.”
He wasn’t out of sorts. He was out of his mind. It was Wednesday? How had it become Wednesday?
“I’m well, damn it. I just . . . haven’t slept much. And the heat is a devil of a thing. You couldn’t do it now? Poke around?”
“These things must be handled delicately. I know everyone thinks I’m a figurehead, only here on the basis of my name, but I know a bit about this business of banking. One can’t blunder about like a bull in a china shop.”
Yes, like George was doing. He remembered to bow and thank Sir Josiah before he took his leave. Then he thought of something.
“Do you know anything about Thornwick’s mistresses?”
Sir Josiah frowned. “Are you sure you’re well? How could you forget?”
Yes, how could he have forgotten? George cursed himself under his breath as he walked out of the bank. Lady Starling had been Thornwick’s mistress just before George had taken up with her at the beginning of this year.
“Said he’s done with mistresses,” Horatia had sniffed. This was two weeks after George had seduced her with his tongue. “Said he must get serious about finding a duchess. And I wasn’t right for him. Too disobedient. Too strong-willed. Too demanding.” Then she had cooed, “And I’m ever so glad now.”
They had been naked in his bed at the time, her hand around his girth, stroking him. George had bitten his lip, not absorbing anything she was saying as he was very close to his release.
“What a difference an inch or two can make, lover.”
George did not correct her despite knowing it was more than an inch or two.
