She swallowed. “And if I didn’t want to listen to her?”
His dark brows drew sharply together. “ThenIwould tell you to stay far away.”
“Youoffered to helpme,” she reminded him as the red in her cheeks gradually faded to a rosy pink. “But you’ve found something wrong with every man we’ve come across.”
“Because none of them are good enough for you,” he said flatly. “And neither am I. This is where we part ways, Lady Annalise. I wish you the best in your search. I would say it has been a pleasure, but your goose bit me, so I will say that it has been… a memorable experience.”
Astonished by the sudden ending of what had been starting to feel like an improbable beginning, she could only watch in disappointed silence as he walked away.
***
It was official, Derrick vowed to himself grimly as he resisted the very palpable urge to turn around and march right back to Annalise. He was never -ever- getting out of bed before noon again.
Had he remained under the blankets where he belonged, he wouldn’t have gone to Hyde Park. Had he not gone to Hyde Park, he wouldn’t have been attacked by geese. Had he not been attacked by geese, he wouldn’t have followed them to an enchantingly beautiful blue-eyed fairy. Had he not followed them to an enchantingly beautiful blue-eyed fairy, he never would have kissed that fairy. And had he never kissed that fairy, he wouldn’t have fallen-
No.
No.
He wasn’t going to say the words. He wasn’t even going to think them. Because he was the Debaucherous Duke. And if anyone knew anything about debaucherous dukes, it was that they did not fall in love at first sight, or last sight, oranysight. Because love was hogwash. Utter nonsense. Complete claptrap.
So he was going back to bed, putting a pillow over his head to drown out the damned sunlight, and sleeping until Annaliseand her trio of murderous feathered fiends were nothing but a distant dream.
“Back so soon, Your Grace?” Grieves had the bloody nerve to ask him the moment he entered the front foyer. “How was your walk? Do you find your spirits restored?”
“No, I do not find them restored,” he snapped as he yanked off his waistcoat and threw it at Grieves who caught the garment without blinking. “Truth be told, I think my spirits are worse than when I woke up. Tell me, Grieves. Have you ever been bitten by a goose?”
“I cannot say that I have, Your Grace.”
“Well I have,” he said, bristling. “And I do not recommend it.”
“I don’t imagine anyone would, Your Grace.”
“Do you know what else I don’t recommend?” Stomping over to the stairs, he sat on the third step and scowled at his valet. “Helping young, naive ladies find a husband.”
Grieves’s stoic expression wavered ever-so-slightly. “Is that what you did today, Your Grace?”
“You should have heard her list of requirements,” he went on, both ignoring the valet’s question and answering it all at the same time. “Her husband must be able to recite poetry. Poetry, Grieves!”
“A noble pastime, Your Grace.”
“Bah.” He waved his hand in the air. “She also wants a man that enjoys dancing. Ridiculous. Show me a man thatlikesto parade around like a trussed up flamingo and I’ll show you one that can walk on water. As if that’s not bad enough, the poor chap has to like horses!”
“You like horses, Your Grace.”
“Betting on them, maybe. But you know what that pony did to me,” he said darkly. “Youknow.”
“It was quite a pugnacious animal,” Grieves agreed. “I take it you did not find what this young lady was looking for?”
Derrick stood and began to pace. “Of course we didn’t. Because such a perfect, virtuous man does notexist. And if he does, he’s probably already married. And if he’s already married, then he’s probably miserable because he spends his spare time reading poetry on the back of a horse after staying up late the night before dancing!”
“If I may be so bold, Your Grace, this young lady seems to have made quite the impression on you.”
Without warning, Derrick’s ears filled with the sound of Annalise’s musical laughter and his mouth flooded with the taste of peaches.You can call me Annalise, if you’d like… I am looking forward to proving you wrong.
Devil take it, he needed her out of his head.
How was he supposed to enjoy a proper evening filled with degenerate and lascivious activities if every time he turned around, he smelled her perfume? Or he pictured the sunlight glinting her hair? Or he saw the fetching twinkle in her eyes?
