Page 32 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

Thalia was clearly preparing to say something, and Christian found that he was looking forward to whatever sharp retort she had. But then she glanced over his shoulder, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, Lord,” she mumbled. “Jonathan is here.”

“Ah. Well, I suggest you hurry across the gallery to where Daphne is. I shall talk to him.”

Thalia shot him an almost grateful look. Turning on her heel, she scurried off, vanishing into the crowd. He watched her go, a smile tugging at his lips.

When this business is over, I think I will miss her witty responses.

There was no question that they would go their separate ways once their fake engagement had fulfilled whatever purpose she had. Sensible young women like Thalia did not ally themselves with notorious rakes.

Drawing in a breath, he turned around, pretending to scan the rows of pictures and just so happened to glance over at the crowd.

Sure enough, there was the Marquess of Hawton hurrying towards him, a look of determination on his face. Christian strode towards him, smiling as if just having noticed him.

“Lord Hawton, what a fine surprise!” he exclaimed, holding out his arms in welcome. “You decided to join us after all, then?”

Jonathan paused, warily glancing around. Perhaps he hadn’t expected a friendly welcome.

“Where is my sister?” he asked bluntly.

“Why, I believe she’s over there. Indeed, you can just see her from here.”

The two men looked in the direction Christian pointed, and he bit back a chuckle.

Thalia must have sprinted to reach Daphne in time. The two women stood together, deep in conversation, both staring at a painting, seemingly entranced. Edwin stood behind them, smiling fondly at his wife.

It was a perfect tableau.

Some of the concern melted from the Marquess’s face.

“I see she’s safe,” he managed feebly. “That is good.”

“I agree.” Christian nodded. “You were concerned?”

“I shall be blunt with you. You are making your interest in my sister known, yes? Can I assume that is the point of all this?”

Christian tilted his head. “And do you feel that you really have to ask such a question?”

The Marquess narrowed his eyes. “You know your reputation, I imagine. The Lord of Scandal. I can’t imagine why you wear that so proudly. And yet here you are, moving through Society as if you have a right to do so.”

Christian let a slow smile creep onto his face. “Be careful, Lord Hawton. Offending a duke is never a fine idea, and offending me is likely to cause you a great deal of trouble, I can assure you of that.”

The Marquess gave a tight smile. “I have great plans for my sister. I hope for her to marry very shortly. Before the month is out, in fact.”

Christian paused. “Why the hurry?”

“She isn’t getting any younger.”

“But you believe that a marriage can take place within a month?”

“I think it will be good for her.”

“Ahh, so you are acting in her interests? What a fine brother you are.”

A tense silence fell between them.

The Marquess eyed him with open dislike. “I shall speak plainly.”