Chapter Four #2
Margaret’s jaw clenched tightly. This was not the first time she had been described as ‘hardly a beauty’. She would not let it upset her, but she braced herself for the Duke’s response, which undoubtedly would be a hearty agreement with this assessment.
‘Miss Whitmore has all the qualities I am looking for in a wife,’ came his unexpected reply.
Margaret held her breath at this encouraging response and leaned in slightly closer to the open door.
‘And what would those qualities be?’ the Earl said. It was the very question she wanted answered. ‘A sharp tongue? A fiery temperament? They’re not exactly qualities most men look for in a wife, hence the fact she was heading straight to spinsterhood.’
‘She has a quick wit and knows her own mind. I believe those are admirable qualities.’
Margaret frowned. Did he really think those qualities admirable? They had never been described in such a manner before.
‘Admirable qualities in a politician perhaps, but in a wife? I think not.’
‘Perhaps I want a wife who challenges me?’
The Earl’s laugh was tinged with derision.
‘I find that hard to believe. Surely you want a nice compliant wife who will let you do whatever you want, with whomever you want. I can’t see you wanting to give up wine, women and song after you marry.
Nor can I see that formidable wench letting you continue to live the lifestyle you enjoy.
Once you’re married, she’s going to put you on a short leash, of that I am certain, and you will be miserable. ’
The Duke said nothing, but then, what could he say? He was not going to change. And, more to the point, they never were going to marry anyway so it mattered not how long or short a leash she might wield.
‘I beg you, Jacob, reconsider this foolishness,’ the Earl continued, a note of desperation in his voice.
‘Find some way out of this. Any of the other debutantes present this weekend would happily let you keep as many mistresses as you want, and you’d never be on the receiving end of that supposed quick wit when you did stray. ’
As offensive as that was, the Earl was correct.
Debutantes were well aware that when they married they were expected to turn a blind eye to their husband’s affairs.
He was also correct to suppose that it was something Margaret had never approved of, and never would, although in these unusual circumstances what she thought was of little consequence.
‘All you’d have to do is get whichever chit you choose with child a few times,’ the Earl added.
‘And while that is never an arduous task, doing so with one of the prettier, more compliant debs on offer this weekend would make it even less arduous. Then you could return to your old way of life, knowing you’d done your duty as the Duke of Rosedale. ’
The Earl laughed while Margaret simmered with rage, not just for herself but for every debutante who was depicted in that appalling manner.
‘While Miss Whitmore may not be to your taste, I see a lot to admire,’ the Duke continued, annoyingly not telling the Earl how offensive his attitude was.
‘She has a boldness that makes her striking, and by contrast all the other debutantes appear simpering and weak-willed. She showed a great deal of elegance on the dancefloor last night, and I would say her beauty, while not demanding attention like many other young women, is more alluring because of its subtlety.’
Margaret’s hand covered her mouth as she listened in disbelief. Was he really talking about her? Did he actually mean what he was saying? Or did she hear some sarcasm in his words?
‘You can’t be serious!’ the Earl gasped, once again that odious man saying exactly what Margaret was thinking.
‘I have never been more serious in my life.’
‘I beg of you, Jacob, reconsider your actions. It’s not too late. No official announcement has been made. You can still get out of it if you act quickly.’
There was a long pause, while Margaret continued to hold her breath.
‘All right, Henry, promise me this will go no further,’ the Duke said in a lowered voice. Margaret drew in a much-needed breath, held it once again, and leaned in even closer to the open door.
‘Neither myself nor Miss Whitmore has any intention of going through with this marriage,’ the Duke continued.
‘She means nothing to me. This engagement gets me out of a sticky situation with Baron Winterborne. It will save Helena’s reputation and save Miss Whitmore from having to endure another Season as a wallflower.
At some stage we will call it off and go our separate ways. ’
Margaret stiffened, gripped with an unexpected pang of disappointment, even though the Duke was simply speaking the truth in a private conversation with his friend. And what had she expected? That he would continue to extol her charms and beauty as if he really had been struck by Cupid’s arrow?
‘Oh, thank God!’ the Earl said with evident relief. ‘For a moment I thought you’d lost your mind.’
‘Believe me, my friend, I am completely sane and know exactly what I am doing.’
Of course he did. He was using Margaret to save his mistress’s reputation.
She had always known that and had no right to feel the rage boiling up inside her.
And the second part of his statement was equally true.
That was what she should focus on. She, too, was using him, to save herself from enduring another Season stuck in the wallflowers’ corner.
It was all just an amicable arrangement.
Margaret strode off down the hallway to prepare for a hasty departure, telling herself she was not angry, but instead grateful to have overheard their conversation.
It meant that any lingering delusions she’d harboured regarding the Duke following the attention he had paid her at last night’s ball had been well and truly swept away.