She squeezed her own eyes shut as she thought of what her grandmother would say. How ashamed she’d be. How all of her hard work and sacrifice would be for naught. “There has to be another solution,” she hissed desperately. “What if–what if we just tell the truth?”
“That your pet squirrel was stuck in a tree and I retrieved it for you and we’ve been kissing ever since?” Sterling said dryly.
“Maybe notthattruth. But…but we could say the part about Sir Reginald. He was stuck in a tree, and you came to help me, and that’s it. That’s all that happened.”
“It would never work.”
“Why not?”
“First, because you’re a terrible liar.”
Her shoulders hunched. Shewasa terrible liar.
“Second, because if I am not mistaken that is Lady Navessa Betram baring down on us and she’s been after me since the day I became a duke. I won’t begin to speculate on how all women’s minds work, but I’ve a good idea on how hers does. She will view you as a threat, and will do everything in her considerable power to dishonor and discredit you. You’ll be ruined, she’ll take it as a chance to make her move, and I’ll be congratulated for seducing a wallflower.”
Rosemary’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
As much as she hated it, he was right.
Every word.
“It’s not fair,” she said.
“No, it’s not.” His expression gentled as he touched the small of her back. “But that’s life, isn’t it? We’ll say I just asked you to be my wife, and we were taking a moment by ourselves to celebrate before we announced it to theton.” He shrugged. “All things considered, it’s not theworstidea in the world.”
“All things considered,” she said faintly.
“Indeed. My sister has been on me about doing what I can to repair the family name.That’swhy I came here. To socialize, and hobnob, and do all the useless, meaningless things expected of a duke. Given the new virtuous path I’ve undertaken, I suppose it is only a matter of time before I’m expected to marry. If I have to do the deed with someone, why not you? At least I’ll stop being hounded by my sister, and you’ll get to be a duchess.” He paused expectantly, as if he were waiting for her to drop to his feet and weep with gratitude at being offered such a wonderful position. “What say you?”
She’d have liked to say that of all the proposals ever given in the history of the world, that was quite possibly the worst. It wasn’t even a proposal so much as a business proposition devoid of love or faith or passion. Like reaching into a bin of apples and pulling one out that was slightly squishy on the side but eating it anyways because what did it matter, really? It was just an apple. Not all that important in the grand scheme of things.
Thatwas how Sterling saw marriage. As a slightly squishy apple. Whereas she saw it as an entire banquet of fruit waiting to be sampled and enjoyed. Plums and peaches and pineapples. Pomegranates, too, if she wanted to continue with her alliteration. Pears. Papaya. Plantains.
Heavens, but there was a lot of fruit that began with P, wasn’t there?
Stay on track, she told herself.You haven’t much time to make the most important decision of your entire life.
Navessa was all but breathing down their necks. Another ten yards, and there’d be no more hiding. The moment of judgment would be upon them. Upon her, that is, since Sterling was a man and the same societal pressures that applied to her didn’t affect him in the slightest. If the rumors were to be believed, he stood credibly accused ofmurdering his mistress. Which she knew he hadn’t done. Yet despite his presumed misdeeds, Society was waiting to welcome him back into their fold with open arms while in the same breath they would cast her aside without a second’s thought for the simple crime of a kiss.
How convenient for men to make rules by which they did not have to abide.
“What if I don’t want to be a duchess?” she asked Sterling softly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Every woman wants to be a duchess.”
He was right about one thing. Hedidn’tknow how the female mind worked. At least not hers, at any rate.
“But–but I don’t know the first thing about it,” she said, her panic rising. “The duties it would entail. The balls I’d have to throw. I can’t host a ball. I don’t evenlikeballs.”
“Surely your dislike doesn’t extend toallballs,” he teased, and the vulgarity of such a statement was enough to puncture the pressure rising within her and coax a startled laugh from her lips. “It won’t be all bad,” he continued. “Given how much of a ruddy duke I am, the expectations for you as a duchess won’t be very high. Plus, I won’t care what you do. Host balls here in London or take Sir Reginald and live in the country. It doesn’t matter.”
“But…what about us?” she said blankly.
“Us?” His brow furrowed. “What do you–”
“Your Grace! I was told you might be attending tonight,” Navessa trilled as she swept in on a wave of self-righteousness and lemon-colored skirts. The dress she’d chosen to wear for the evening showcased her generous bosom and hugged her tiny waist before expanding into a bell shape that was so wide and so broad courtesy of the petticoat boning beneath the layers of fabric that Rosemary wondered if she was able to fit through doorways.
A question best saved for another time, she decided, when Navessa’s icy gaze flicked across her with unmistakable contempt. “And Miss Rosemary Stanhope. We meet again, I see. Do you have any glasses of lemonade you’d like to throw at me?”
