She did not smile—not even a little bit. Instead, her lips remained drawn in a tight line while her eyes assessed him slowly from head to foot and back again. Without comment, she swept past him and took her seat upon the sofa next to her husband. With a deflated feeling of having just been cut by the woman he hoped might one day become his mother-in-law, Anthony hesitantly returned to his own seat, upon which Mrs. Chilcott said, “I strongly advise you to abandon this ridiculous notion at once.”
Caught off guard by her curt remark, Anthony stared back at her for a long moment before managing to find his tongue. “There is nothing ridiculous about it,” he said, looking to Mr. Chilcott for a bit of support. Before Mrs. Chilcott had arrived, Anthony had been certain that he’d managed to convince him of his plight. Now, however, the man appeared to have retreated inside himself, his eyes trained stubbornly on his teacup.
“Of course there is,” Mrs. Chilcott went on, her eyes narrowing as she leaned toward Anthony. “You are mistakenly romanticizing your own beastly instincts by using some emotional attachment you wish for us to believe you have developed with our daughter as an excuse. Well, allow me to unravel your feelings for you, since you are clearly incapable of doing so yourself. Considering how little the two of you know each other, there can be no doubt that what you speak of is desire. If you say otherwise, you are being dishonest. All this talk of love or the possibility of love is nothing more than a means by which to make a gross elaboration of the truth.”
Anthony blinked. He didn’t know what shocked him more—Mrs. Chilcott’s blatant rudeness or her swift dismissal of what he felt. “It is more than desire,” he ground out, determined not to let this woman have a say without fighting back. “I am no stranger to desire, madam, and I assure you that this is something more—something much more permanent.”
“He wishes to court her,” Mr. Chilcott muttered.
Without a change to her demeanor, Mrs. Chilcott said, “Then I must inform you that your wish, Duke, has been declined. Our daughter will marry Mr. Roberts. They have known each other for almost a full year and I have every confidence that they will be very happy together.”
Incensed by her quick dismissal, Anthony rose to his feet, stared down his nose at her and said, “It appears, Mrs. Chilcott, that you are completely blind when it comes to the affairs of your daughter. Either that, or you simply do not care. Good day.” And with that, he exited the parlor and the house, taking what little pleasure he could from slamming the door behind him as he left.
Chapter 16
“You look fairly miserable.”
Looking up from the tiny figure that was standing before him on his desk, Anthony met his brother’s gaze as Winston entered the study and moved toward one of two empty chairs that stood on the opposite side of the table.
Anthony shrugged as his brother lowered himself onto one of the seats. “Just busying myself with my latest project,” he said. He’d no desire to talk about the conversation he’d had with Mr. and Mrs. Chilcott earlier in the day, for the experience had left him not only drained but also with a sense of hopelessness that he was finding hard to shake. They were all against him, including Miss Chilcott. Reaching out, he picked up the figure he’d made of her using an old teaspoon, some wire and a bit of horse hair. He’d fashioned a gown from the piece of torn fabric he’d found and painted her face to the best of his ability on the spoon. Twirling her gently between his fingers, he met his brother’s gaze. “I should probably just give up.”
Winston raised a brow. “Is it that hopeless?”
Anthony sighed. Reluctant though he was, he knew that he might as well tell his brother everything, so he did, as accurately as he could manage but without any mention of the intimate moment he’d shared with Miss Chilcott on the way to her aunt’s house. Some things deserved to be kept private. When he was done, he couldn’t help but note the look of disbelief on his brother’s face.
“Mrs. Chilcott said that to you?” Winston asked, gaping. He frowned as he shook his head, as if trying to make sense of it. Anthony understood him—he’d been trying to comprehend the woman’s boorishness since the moment he’d left her house. “She clearly has no respect for your title, Anthony.”
“That goes without saying,” Anthony said dryly. He paused for a moment before adding, “Her daughter claims she hates the nobility and all it stands for. I just hadn’t expected her to be quite so ... difficult to deal with.”
“One cannot help but understand her reasoning though.”
“Whose side are you on?” Anthony growled as he set the figure of Miss Chilcott down and glared across at his brother.
Winston rolled his eyes. “Yours, of course, you idiot, though you have to admit that your talk of having found some profound connection with Miss Chilcott that you believe will lead to true love—all in the space of one evening—does sound just a little bit unbelievable.”
“You think I’m being fanciful,” Anthony blistered. He’d had a headache since leaving the Chilcott’s, which had abated during the course of the evening, but he could feel it threatening to return now in full force.
“I would prefer to think of you as hopeful. However, all I am saying is that it would be odd if Mr. and Mrs. Chilcott would welcome you with open arms on the basis of such a claim, agreeing to end their daughter’s acquaintance with a suitor who, while he may not be the ideal match for her and might be a cold fish with some rather peculiar notions, is firmly grounded in reality—the Chilcotts know what to expect of him.”
“Are you saying that I am not realistic?” Anthony asked. He spoke slowly in an attempt to keep his rising temper at bay.
Winston regarded him for a moment. “I’ve always thought you were,” he eventually said. “Being a rake and all that ... Well, you know how it is—rakes don’t usually believe in love, or at the very least, they don’t plan to find themselves immersed in it. But you’ve changed over the last few years, and now, with this whole business regarding Miss Chilcott, I daresay you’ve taken on quite the romantic streak, and we all know that romantics arenotgrounded in reality, Anthony.”
Anthony frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Of course it is,” Winston countered. “Romantics are dreamers, and dreams rarely have anything to do with reality.”
“What the devil are you talking about? You married Sarah, didn’t you? And Lord knows you dreamed of her for an eternity before anything came of it.”
“True, but I never would have presumed that she’d accept my proposal or that her father would give us his blessing unless they’d been certain that my intentions were honorable and that I wanted her forherand not for something more ... devious ... though of course I did.” Winston grinned broadly at that, which could only suggest that there was real passion between him and his wife.
“Would you please speak plainly?” Anthony said, crossing to the sideboard to pour two glasses of brandy.
“What I’m trying to say is that you might have more success at convincing them by avoiding whatever feelings you have for their daughter until you can speak of them without sounding as though you merely wish to toss her on your bed.”
“I alluded to no such thing!” Anthony turned abruptly in response to his brother’s words and the brandy sloshed over the side of one of the glasses, wetting his hand. He handed the other glass to Winston and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket so he could wipe away the liquid.
“Of course you did,” Winston protested. “How else do you suppose they might interpret your talk of being inexplicably drawn to their daughter? You need only look to Mrs. Chilcott’s response—inappropriate though it may be—to find your answer.”
