Mr. Chilcott raised an eyebrow.
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Anthony continued, hoping he wouldn’t be asked to elaborate on what he’d just left unsaid, “and I am confident that she will make an excellent duchess.”
Mr. Chilcott frowned again—more deeply this time. “What makes you so certain? You cannot possibly know that you will get along well with one another in the long run—you barely know each other, for heaven’s sake!” The words were barely out before Mr. Chilcott’s eyes widened with alarm. “Don’t tell me you’ve been romancing her in secret and that she went to the ball specifically to meet with you. Good God! Has she been compromised? If you’ve—”
“It’s nothing like that—I assure you.” The corner of Anthony’s mouth edged upward to form a crooked smile. “Regarding the length of our acquaintance however, which, for the record began on the night of the ball, I think you should know that your daughter made the exact same point.”
Mr. Chilcott’s eyes narrowed and Anthony shifted a little in his seat. He might have been a duke—a man whose presence most men would tremble in—but for the moment, he was nothing more than a man laying bare his deepest wish to the father of the woman he hoped to marry. Mr. Chilcott might have been nothing more than a carriage driver, but Anthony was wise enough not to underestimate the power he had to turn down Anthony’s proposal.
The door to the parlor opened, admitting the maid, who’d returned with a tea tray. She poured a cup for each of them in turn, bobbed a curtsy and departed once again.
“What did you tell her?” Mr. Chilcott asked as soon as she was gone and the door had been closed behind her once more.
Leaning forward in his seat, Anthony stared into his teacup for a long moment, recognizing that what he was about to say would be detrimental to both his and Miss Chilcott’s future. He eventually looked up and, meeting Mr. Chilcott’s serious gaze, he said, “That I cannot explain the connection between us, but that I know it is there, so powerful that I cannot ignore it. I know she feels it too, for I can see it in her eyes.” He swallowed hard before adding, “She is marrying Mr. Roberts for your sake alone—not because she wishes to. It is a sacrifice, Mr. Chilcott, in every possible sense of the word, for she will have to abandon herself in the process.”
“What are you talking about?” Mr. Chilcott had been reaching for his tea but froze in response to Anthony’s words, spearing the duke with a hard stare instead. “Mr. Roberts may be a bit ... reserved, but he will offer my daughter a most comfortable life, complete with a grand house to live in, beautiful gowns and countless servants. What more does she possibly need?”
Respect?
Instead of saying as much, Anthony raised an eyebrow. “I do believe Mr. Roberts neglected to tell you that he intends for her to earn her keep.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“His housekeeper will retire as soon as he’s married, and, considering it an unnecessary expense in light of the fact that his wife will be more than capable of taking on the task, he has no intention of hiring another.” Feeling more confident in the face of Mr. Chilcott’s shocked expression, he went on with, “I do not know him all that well, I admit, but I do know this—the man is a snob. He will not treat your daughter well, for to his way of thinking, she is far beneath him socially. Therefore, one must wonder at his reasoning. I believe he is quite aware of her beauty and imagines that she would make a fine accessory.”
“How dare you speak of my daughter in such a degrading fashion?” Mr. Chilcott’s words were spoken beneath his breath and with little force behind them, but his eyes had grown dark.
“Because I care about her and should hate to see her shackled to someone so lacking. She deserves better than that.”
A smirk presented itself on Mr. Chilcott’s lips. “You, perhaps?”
Anthony closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. This was not going as well as he’d hoped. “I know how this must seem to you, sir.” He opened his eyes and looked back at the man opposite him. “I assure you that my first concern is for your daughter’s happiness, and to be frank, I feel she stands a better chance for that if she attaches herself to me. I have more money than I know what to do with, so she shan’t be lacking and neither will you. I will not dictate to her what she can and cannot do with her free time, provided that such activities are appropriate for a young lady to enjoy. Forget about Mr. Roberts and let me court her. Please.”
Mr. Chilcott sat completely unmoving for a long moment before finally saying, “I shall have to speak to my wife.”
Bloody hell.
Hadn’t Miss Chilcott told him that her mother would never give her consent? Anthony felt as if the ground was falling away beneath his feet. He was doomed.
Running his fingers through his hair, he expelled a deep breath and reached for his tea. If only he had a brandy instead. He was in dire need of something stronger than flavored hot water. “I don’t understand it,” he muttered as the tepid liquid flowed down his throat. “Your daughter is receiving an offer of courtship from a duke, and not a single one of you is responding with the degree of elation that one might expect under the circumstances. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“I assure you that there isnot,” Mr. Chilcott said, his voice a notch tighter than it had been before. “Perhaps our lack of enthusiasm is merely based on your sudden appearance upon our doorstep, your eagerness to court our daughter based on one fleeting encounter with her, during which, according to you, an incomprehensible connection was formed between the two of you—one that urges you to hasten to the altar with her at the first available opportunity. Forgive me, Duke, if I am not as willing as you would have liked me to be in offering my nod of approval, but your argument is quite fantastic, not to mention rank with suspicion. Are you quite certain that you did not compromise her in any way?”
“You have my word on it, Mr. Chilcott,” Anthony promised. He had to admit that the man had a point. He hadn’t made a very convincing case by attempting to explain his motives for wanting to court Miss Chilcott by trying to make sense of his feelings toward her. It sounded unlikely to his own ears, and if the situation had been reversed, he’d probably have thought that the so-calledconnectionhe spoke of was nothing more than pure lust.
It wasn’t though. Anthony knew all about lust, and whatever it was that drew him so strongly to Miss Chilcott was a different beast entirely. Deciding he had to say something more to make Mr. Chilcott understand, he asked the most absurd question he’d ever imagined himself asking another man: “Do you believe in love at first sight, Mr. Chilcott?”
Mr. Chilcott choked on the tea he’d unfortunately just taken a sip of. “I hope you’re jesting,” he said once he’d composed himself again. “Love at first sight? That’s the stuff of fairy tales, Duke.”
“Yes,” Anthony agreed. “And I’m not suggesting that I’ve fallen in love with your daughter, but rather that for the first time in my life, I have glimpsed the possibility for it with her.”
Something in Mr. Chilcott’s gaze shifted, and as Anthony looked back at him, he knew he’d managed to say the right thing, that as unlikely as it was, Chilcott understood.
“It is this possibility that I wish to explore,” Anthony continued. “I know how rare it is for anyone to experience such ... oneness with another person and how fortunate I am to have done so with your daughter that I cannot—nay I will not—relinquish the chance of a love match with her.”
“How very noble of you, Your Grace.” The words came from the doorway, and Anthony turned his head to find Mrs. Chilcott standing there dressed in a violet gown that suited her complexion immensely. A matching ribbon had been twined about her hair, reminding Anthony of the Greek style that so many upper-class women were presently fond of.
Anthony rose to his feet without pause and approached her, executing a polite bow as he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Chilcott,” he said as he straightened himself.
