The Rigid Duke, page 5
“I was annoyed with Rigid. He treated Marina rather obnoxiously during their promenade. She is justifiably afraid of bees and was being harassed by one. He had no sympathy for her situation.”
Cecilia’s brow pinched. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
“Not at all. I went to see Lady Wetherby to inform her that I didn’t think they would suit. She insists they are perfect for one another and expects them to wed.” Juno pressed two fingers to her temple. “This is going to be more difficult than I imagined.”
“I see.” Cecilia glanced toward the table. “I have placed them next to each other again, with you beside Lady Marina as you were last night.”
“I wonder if I ought to sit next to Rigid and try to encourage him to behave more politely. If he continues to act poorly with Marina, she will never relax around him. And if that happens, I can’t see him proposing marriage.”
“Unless he likes that about her. He’s rather…reserved himself.”
“I think you mean rigid.” Juno winked at her. “In truth, after listening to him speak with Marina during their promenade, I began to doubt his interest in her. Yes, I think I must sit next to him to prod him along.”
“I’ll make the change,” Cecilia said. “Tomorrow there will be a treasure hunt. The guests will be divided into teams to search for items on a list, and the winning team will receive a prize. I have made the duke, Lady Marina, and you a team.”
This would provide ample opportunity to determine if they would suit. “Splendid. I’m sure I can find an excuse to leave them alone at some point.”
Cecilia’s eyes gleamed with intent. “I’ll do what I can to help.”
“You are an excellent accomplice.”
“It seems, ah, very important that this match happens. I will do whatever I can.”
“I appreciate your support. Together, I can’t imagine we won’t be successful.”
Cecilia laughed softly. “How I wish I had met you before now. How old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“And what happened to Mr. Langton, if you don’t mind my nosiness.”
“I don’t mind at all. He died very suddenly within a year of our marriage.” Juno felt a moment’s sting as she recalled his senseless demise. Bernard was lovely but also foolish, and he drank too much.
“You seem to have landed on your feet. Do you have as many lives as a cat?”
Now Juno laughed. “Not yet, but I shall hope so. I have been very fortunate to establish myself.”
“You seem perfectly suited for your chosen profession. I take it you have no desire to marry again?”
“None whatsoever.” Juno had no need or inclination.
“Not even for male companionship?”
“Marriage isn’t necessary for that,” Juno whispered with a smile.
“How enterprising of you.” Cecilia tipped her head toward Juno. “Do you have a specific tactic in mind for how you will encourage the duke’s enthusiasm toward Lady Marina?”
“Not entirely. Perhaps he simply needs to be reminded that he came here to find a wife, and Marina is his only option.” Juno winced inwardly. She didn’t like thinking of Marina in that way. She deserved better than that. “He needs to give her—them—a true chance.” Juno was still dubious. Perhaps he was too, which put them in agreement. She marveled at that for a moment.
“Are you talking about me?”
The gruff sound of the duke’s voice prompted both Juno and Cecilia to whip around and face the door. The rigid duke stood just inside the dining room, his perpetual scowl only slightly less etched into his face than usual.
“Yes,” Juno answered quickly, drawing a sharp glance from Cecilia.
The duke stared at her a moment. Juno heard Cecilia’s breath catch.
He shrugged. “I was just passing.”
“I must be off,” Cecilia said. “I’ve much to do.” She looked toward Juno with slightly widened eyes, her head tilting infinitesimally toward the duke in silent communication that Juno should speak with him. Or something.
The duke stepped out of the way as Cecilia departed.
“I imagine she’s planning another tedious event for the morrow.” His mouth slashed into a frown as his thick brows gathered.
Juno had suffered enough of his eternal disdain. Moving toward him, she threw her shoulders back and puffed up her chest as she sought to mimic him. “I hate house parties and picnics, and I’m the grumpiest man alive.” She pouted up at him, then bared her teeth, lowering her voice even more to a harsh rasp. “But I’m a duke, so I can behave like an ass and get away with it.”
His eyes rounded. He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. “I don’t sound like that.”
“You sound exactly like that.” Juno relaxed her shoulders.
“I don’t say things like that. The ass part. I know I said I hated house parties.”
“Just because you haven’t yet said the ass part doesn’t mean you won’t.”
“You think you know me so well?”
“I think you’re a shallow, predictable, surly curmudgeon. Perhaps you’re more than that, but you won’t let anyone see.” She adopted her best rigid-duke growl. “I don’t need to be pleasant or kind, so I won’t. Not even to woo a wife.” She stared at him with as much disdain as she could muster, then rolled her eyes for good measure. Satisfied that she felt better even if he never understood her point, she stepped around him to leave.
“That was actually pretty good,” he murmured from behind her as she sailed from the dining room.
There was a note of appreciation in his tone that gave her hope. Perhaps tonight would go better than the promenade at the picnic. If it didn’t, she wasn’t sure the match would happen, regardless of Lady Wetherby’s insistence.
Dare wasn’t surprised to find himself seated next to Lady Marina again at dinner that evening. However, he was rather speechless—and not because he chose to remain stoic, which was typical—when Mrs. Langton sat on his other side. Still, the first course nearly passed in complete silence among them.
“Why aren’t you speaking with Lady Marina?” Mrs. Langton’s urgent whisper caught him off guard.
He turned his head to find she was much closer than he’d realized. She’d leaned toward him to deliver her query.
“She’s quite focused on her soup,” he murmured in response. A glance toward Lady Marina reaffirmed his assessment. She’d yet to make eye contact with him at all and had barely uttered good evening when she’d sat down.
“Don’t take her shyness for disinterest,” Mrs. Langton said brightly, still keeping her voice low. She looked at him expectantly, a smile hovering about her lush, kissable mouth.
Kissable?
Dare cleared his throat and snapped his attention back to his soup. A moment later, he tried to engage Lady Marina. “How do you find the turtle soup?”
“Tolerable.” Her gaze didn’t so much as flick toward his. Or anywhere except her soup.
Frowning, he set down his spoon and pondered whether it was worth his time to bother trying again.
“You could ask her about the wine,” Mrs. Langton suggested.
“What about it?” he asked in a low growl.
“You aren’t very adept at conversation, are you?”
He couldn’t help shooting her a suffering glance. “No worse than your charge.”
“She’s shy.” Mrs. Langton blinked, her long lashes shuttering her eyes briefly. “Are you?”
“No. I merely prefer not to engage with most people.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I rarely meet anyone worth speaking with.”
She exhaled. “Not shy but boorish. Are you looking for a duchess or not? Ask her about the wine,” she prodded.
The footman removed the course, and while they laid the next, Dare tried again. Turning his head toward Lady Marina, he willed her to look at him. Did he think he was some sort of sorcerer that he could control her movements? He turned a snort into another growl. Unintentionally, that had the effect of provoking her to glance at him.
“Is the wine to your liking?” he asked, thinking this had to be the dullest, most painful, most inane conversation he’d ever had. No, it wasn’t even a conversation since she wasn’t participating.
“I can’t say.”
“Haven’t you tried it?”
“No.” She reached for her glass and took a delicate sip.
He noted the flash of distaste in her eyes and the slight wrinkle of her nose. “You don’t care for it.”
“It’s rather sweet.”
Their plates were set before them, effectively interrupting their nascent dialogue.
Mrs. Langton leaned close again, tempting Dare with her orange-and-lily scent. “You could ask what she likes to read. That should launch a lively discussion.”
Tempting? Dare thought of their brief encounter that afternoon when she’d mocked him, lowering her voice to match his and thrusting her shoulders back to puff up her chest. Unfortunately, the action didn’t make her appear larger or more substantial like him. It had drawn his attention to her rather perfectly curved torso, most notably her full breasts. Perhaps it hadn’t been unfortunate after all.
That she’d teased him had stuck with him ever since. No one mocked him. Ever. Not even at school, where everyone was mocked.
Yet, Mrs. Langton talked to him in ways no one did. She looked at him with open hostility and agitation, all while continuing to smile and cajole him—in the name of her charge. She was utterly beguiling.
If only Lady Marina possessed even a fraction of her companion’s energy, Dare would have no problem offering for her. She did not, however. He watched her as she gingerly ate a green bean. Her features were blank, and he wondered if they were schooled that way or if she was just completely devoid of emotion or reaction.
“Does she ever smile?” he asked Mrs. Langton, shocking himself. He hadn’t really meant to share the thought aloud. Since when did he care about smiling?
“Do you?” Mrs. Langton countered.
“Touché.” He tamped back a smile.
“Perhaps you and Marina should find equal ground there. You ought to have realized by now that you’ve much in common.”
He supposed they were similar in demeanor. Turning his head once more, he took in her dark hair and pale, slender neck. She was an attractive woman, but he wasn’t moved by her. There was no…spark.
“Do I trouble you, Lady Marina?” he asked softly.
Her head turned so sharply, he jerked, which caused her to flinch in return. “No.” She immediately returned her attention to her pheasant.
Dare took the unsubtle hint and attacked his plate in earnest, ignoring both women despite being incredibly aware of Mrs. Langton. It was silly, but there was a heat to her that surrounded him. He reached for his wine.
“You really should ask her about books,” Mrs. Langton persisted.
Dare downed the contents of his glass. “If you’re so intent on seeing us matched, perhaps you should speak with her about how to engage with a gentleman she wishes to snare in the parson’s trap.”
Standing abruptly, Dare earned the attention of everyone in the dining room as conversation evaporated into silence. “Please excuse me.”
He left the dining room, knowing his departure would be the talk of the house party. Not that he cared. People often talked about him, and he didn’t care. Mrs. Langton and their hostess had been doing it just that afternoon, in fact.
Dare found himself in the library, where he plucked a book from the shelf and tucked himself into an alcove to read. If it hadn’t been dark, he would have gone outside for a walk. A book about the wilds of Ireland would have to suffice.
He lost himself in descriptions of lush green hills and bold, crashing waves. He’d no idea how much time had passed when he heard a laugh.
“Poor Lady Cosford,” a feminine voice said. Two women came into the library. Dare recognized them, but couldn’t have recalled their names on pain of death. One was married to a member of Parliament. Huxley? Halsey?
“Don’t pity her. This house party will be discussed for some—” The woman’s voice cut off, and two pairs of eyes fixed on him in his alcove.
Hell. He’d hoped to be invisible.
“Oh dear. We beg your pardon, Your Grace,” Mrs. H said, her face pale and her dark eyes wide.
“Were you discussing me?” Dare asked with a suffering sigh as he closed the book on his finger.
“Yes,” the other lady responded, which earned her a stifled gasp and a shocked glare from her friend. The woman shrugged in response to Mrs. H. “Whom else would we be talking about?”
Mrs. H exhaled. She turned her focus to Dare. “You did cause a stir when you left dinner so abruptly.”
“I know.” And he didn’t care.
“Oh, to be a duke, and do precisely as one pleases,” not-Mrs. H said wryly.
Juno’s words from earlier in the day came back to him. Perhaps he took for granted the fact that he could do as he chose and behave as he liked without consequence.
Not-Mrs. H cast him a cautious look, as if she expected him to react negatively to her comment. “I suppose I am allowed certain…foibles. Or at least forgiven for them.”
Dare suspected Juno didn’t forgive him for a thing. Had he done wrong? He hadn’t been entirely…pleasant during his promenade with Lady Marina at the picnic.
“Are you disagreeable on purpose?” not-Mrs. H asked while Mrs. H once again shot her a look of shocked distress.
Dare liked not-Mrs. H in the way he liked Juno. Neither suffered his grouchy demeanor. Well, not precisely in the way he liked the goddess.
“Not entirely. I don’t generally like people.” He shrugged, his shoulders scraping the back of the chair, as if that sentiment were common.
Not-Mrs. H’s light blue eyes gleamed. “How refreshing to hear honesty from someone of our station.”
Our. Was she peerage, then? He probably ought to know her name, but he wasn’t going to ask. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the nerve. He doubted he’d remember, so why bother?
“W-why don’t you like people?” Mrs. H asked tentatively.
Dare wasn’t sure how to answer that question or if he even could. So he chose to ignore it. “Shouldn’t you ladies be in the drawing room?”
“There is no rule requiring it,” not-Mrs. H said with a laugh. “We went for a walk.” She lowered her voice, a twinkle in her eye. “So we could gossip.”
“About me.” They’d already said they were talking about him.
Not-Mrs. H grinned. “Of course!”
Mrs. H pursed her lips as another flicker of worry passed over her features. “Lady Wetherby was most upset.”
“Indeed.” Not-Mrs. H edged closer to his chair, her expression eager. “Does this mean you aren’t going to offer for Lady Marina?”
While he appreciated the woman’s forthrightness, that didn’t mean he would contribute to her gossipmongering. “That’s between us.” He used an even haughtier tone than usual in case the woman decided to grow even bolder.
Thankfully, she did not. Exhaling with an air of disappointment, she pulled back to her position next to Mrs. H. “I had to ask.”
“You really didn’t.” He actually gave her a half smile, shocking her, which made him inordinately pleased. He had the sense that little surprised not-Mrs. H. Perhaps he should go to the trouble of learning her name. Or pay attention to who her husband was in case he recognized the man, if he was even in attendance.
Mrs. H tittered softly, provoking her friend to look in her direction and then share in her laughter. “This is much better than a walk,” Mrs. H said with a cautious glance toward Dare.
He was certain their exchange would be bandied about as soon as they returned to the drawing room, not that he cared one whit.
“What of the treasure hunt tomorrow?” not-Mrs H asked.
There was to be a bloody treasure hunt? He longed to remove himself, but he’d come all the way to this party and ought to participate. Even if it grated his every nerve. “What of it?”
“It sounds most diverting,” Mrs. H said with a nod. “We’ll be put into groups. I daresay you and Lady Marina will be together.”
There was absolutely no question they would. He began to wonder if the entire purpose of this house party was to push him and Lady Marina together. Lady Wetherby wanted her daughter to snag a duke, and Juno was certainly doing her part, as was Lady Cosford. But if there wasn’t so much as a hint of anything between them, what was Dare to do?
He should give her one more chance. He’d been distracted by Juno at dinner, which had been foolish. Juno wasn’t a potential duchess—Lady Marina was. She deserved his full attention and his best behavior.
Standing, he strode to replace the book on the shelf. He turned back toward the two women and inclined his head. “I bid you good evening.”
Tomorrow, he would participate in the tiresome treasure hunt and try doubly hard to engage with Lady Marina. Hopefully, she would do the same with him, for he couldn’t make this match on his own.
Couldn’t he, though? He’d long told his mother that he didn’t need a wife he could love, just an exemplary duchess. Perhaps he should prepare a list of questions about running a household and performing the duties of a duchess and simply ask Lady Marina each of them. That would tell him definitively if they would suit.
He’d compose a list as soon as he arrived in his chamber. How orderly and efficient. Just the way he preferred things.
Chapter 5
The following afternoon, Dare fortified himself with a small glass of brandy before striding into the drawing room where everyone was gathered for the insipid treasure hunt. His gaze went directly to Juno and then to Lady Marina, who stood at her side, head bent with her gaze locked on the floor as usual. Her mother, Lady Wetherby, was also there, but her attention was not on the floor. Her prickly stare was trained on Dare as he entered. He nearly turned and left.
“Good afternoon, Duke,” Lady Cosford greeted him with another of her endless smiles. “I hear you took a rather long ride this morning.”
