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Despite himself, his jaw tensed. The idea of a Viscountess Kelbourne signing the family Bible with an X was daunting. On the other hand, that X would have made his father burn with rage, which was an excellent reason to marry an illiterate woman.

“I can sign my name,” Torie snapped.

“That wasn’t what was bothering me,” Dominic said. “My question is about what you want in a husband. You told me that you wanted to marry for love, and I am not a man who falls in love,” he said, trying to be as clear as possible. “I doubt it’s in me.”

Torie’s eyes lightened to an exquisite cornflower blue. “That’s your oh-so-important concern in response to my acceptance of your proposal?”

“You didn’t precisely accept,” Dominic pointed out. “I would describe your comment as a disgruntled recognition of reality. Not a desirable reality, apparently.”

“I am putting away childish things,” Torie told him.

“Did you mean to quote Corinthians?”

Her mouth tipped up on one side. “Chapter 1, verse 11. ‘When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.’ Let’s turn that from ‘man’ to ‘woman,’ and define ‘childish things’ as the dream that someday I would fall in love.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “But the duke loves you, no?”

“His Grace did tell me I was driving him mad, and his insanity could only be cured by marriage.”

What an idiot.

“His adoration didn’t spur yours, I gather?” Dominic asked.

“No.” She gave him a rueful smile. “This is my third Season, and I’ve seen the best that London has to offer along with a great many of the worst on offer. I haven’t felt the slightest pang of love, let alone come close to madness.”

“Neither have I,” he offered. He grinned back at her, thinking that he had found just the right woman. How often had he silently rolled his eyes when gentlemen claimed to be in love? “After the disaster of my first betrothal, there’s only one thing that I desire in a wife. Honesty.”

Her forehead pleated. “Fidelity?”

“No, honesty. Just being yourself as opposed to the proper lady you think I want.”

“As it happens, I am not good at being anything else. My defects are far too well-known for me to fool you or anyone else,” Torie said with a distinctly happy note in her voice.

Dominic picked up her hand and regarded it: slender fingers, fine bones, speckles of paint, a callus. He rubbed it.

“From holding a paintbrush,” she explained.

He kissed her hand. She smelled of turpentine and paint.

“This is going to happen, isn’t it?” he drawled.

Chapter 15

Sir William was not happy with Torie’s announcement. “What am I to tell the duke?” he grumped at luncheon. “What’s more, you’re asking me to give up the eight thousand that His Grace offered.”

Torie rarely flatly contradicted her father, but this time she leaned across the table and said fiercely, “The viscount will never pay you for the honor of marrying me. You may consider yourself lucky that he is not demanding that immoral payment you extracted from him two years ago.”

“Christ, you look like your mother when you go all disproving,” Sir William snapped. “You shouldn’t interfere in men’s business.”

“You shouldn’t have gambled away my dowry,” she retorted.

“I suppose you’d better tell Kelbourne to come over tomorrow morning,” her father said, ignoring her reproach.

Out of her earshot, Sir William wouldn’t hesitate to renew his demand for money. “I shall invite him for dinner, and you may offer your congratulations then,” Torie said coolly. “I shall write to the Duke of Queensberry and inform him of my decision.”

“His Grace won’t like it,” Sir William said, with some truth. “The man’s infatuated. You’ll never be able to control Kelbourne that way. You’re making a mistake, mark my words.”

He wasn’t wrong about His Grace’s feelings.