Page 41 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

But then, what could the daughter of a baron truly offer a duke?

Clearing my throat, I put on a false smile and look at the faces peering at me. “I supposed Henhaven and I will have to have this conversation at some point. It would make sense that he would have some input.”

“The groom usually doesn’t fool with such things,” she says in that kindly, motherly tone that makes my heart ache with grief. “I am more than happy to advise if your mother is engaged elsewhere.”

“That would be most helpful,” I say, doing my best to keep the sorrow out of my voice. “Any guidance would be appreciated. I do worry you won’t have much to work with. The budget is modest at best.”

“Don’t you worry, sweet girl. I wasn’t always a duchess. I know how to make a guinea go further than planned.”

With a nod, we descend into silence once more. Minutes tick by as I pick at my food, eating when Charles looks over at me, until I’m safe to take my leave. I cannot stay in bed all day. To do so would look unseemly for a woman who’s supposed to be getting married so soon.

Once I freshen up and hide the redness from unshed tears, I go back to the parlor where the triplets occupy my time with made-up songs and performances crafted to make me smile. That is, until Henhaven comes to call.

He sits stiffly on the settee as the triplets take their places around him, staring as he talks to me. To his credit, he doesn’t stumble or falter. There is, however, a pinch of tension around his shoulders.

I try to seem interested in what he has to say, but somehow every syllable is dull and drawn out. His homestead seems quaint, a place I’d like to visit. Yet, it’s not enough to hold my interest. Even Penelope nods off a time or two as he waxes poetic about the ports and harbors.

As he leaves, he hands me a booklet with the history for me to read. Though I thank him and give him a gracious smile, he must realize I won’t spend what time I have before our wedding poring over something I really care so little about. Georgiana, however, seems quite fascinated.

She takes the book from me and starts flipping through, spouting off facts she finds of interest. Teasing, I nudge her with my elbow. “Perhaps you should marry him instead.”

At that, she tilts her head to the side, giving me an odd look. “But he’s engaged to you. It wouldn’t be proper. Besides, I haven’t had my coming out yet. I’m not old enough to consider it.”

“‘Twas teasing,” I say with a gentle smile. “I just wish I found all of this as intriguing as you do.”

“I’m sure once you get there, you will. Besides, there’s a whole section on here about the various rock formations in the caves and coves. Just imagine it. He’ll take you by the hand, draw you to his bosom, and whisper in your ear all the various creatures that made a home in the rocks and left their evidence behind.”

The other two dissolve into giggles, but I can’t help but groan. “The problem with this little scenario is that I’m sure you’re completely accurate.”

The laughter becomes even more boisterous until I end up joining in. “It’s all very ridiculous,” I laugh. “Such scandal. He shall ruin me with a show of his rocks. I shall swoon and beg for more.”

“Beg for more what?”

Charles’s deep voice ripples across my skin until goose-flesh explodes. I turn to look at him, a flush rising in my cheeks. Thankfully, Penelope slides forward, mouth already curved into a grin.

“We were just discussing the various ways Henhaven might seduce Cynthia at his home. His massive, rocky cove seems as good as any.”

“I see,” he murmurs. “And are you so swayed?”

“Oh dear,” I say, doing my absolute best to keep a straight face. “Such a conundrum. I find myself caught between a rock and a hard place.” We all collapse again as the laughter rings out into the room.

Charles merely rolls his eyes and leaves us to our mischief. I long to follow him. I so desperately need to see if he still wants and cares for me. It’s my deepest fear that Henhaven offering me the comfort of his purr has somehow tainted me.

With a soft sigh, I go back to entertaining the triplets with all the boring talk the good viscount has inflicted on me. They at least find it amusing. I’m sure it’s because they don’t dread listening to it for the rest of their lives.

Hyde Park is the same as every time Henhaven takes me about in his curricle. I clutch the side, doing my utmost not to bump into him as he jostles me about. If he didn’t act so upright every other time we’ve been together, I’d think he did it on purpose.

Granted, the way he spreads his thighs so that they touch mine tells me he might be a touch more carnal than I first gave him credit for. Each ride he becomes far more bold than the one before. Could it be our upcoming nuptials make him desperate?

“Have I told you about the structure of our house? Blackthorne Hall?” he asks as he rubs his knee into me.

“No, I do not believe you have.”

“It’s quite remarkable, actually. The Millstone Grit…”

His voice drones in my ear as he rubs his thigh into mine. It’s as if all this talk makes him animated and desirous of me. Is this to be our precursor to relations? Am I to be talked to about stones and rocks instead of tied up and pleasured?

“I do so hope you like it,” he finishes as he looks over at me.