Book 3 in The Darling Duchesses Series #2
That part was enough to make any gentleman shudder.
An unstable fellow, given to outbursts and tantrums, the last Duke of Tyneham had cheated at cards, drunk himself into a stupor more times than anyone could count, and finally perished in a duel over a married woman’s honor.
No one had berated the man who’d shot him.
Neither had Max met anyone who had mourned the duke’s passing.
And Sophia—vibrant, caring, intelligent Sophia—had been left with no desire to enter matrimony again.
That was likely the fellow’s greatest crime.
“I suppose one of us will crack over the next fortnight,” Max mused.
Someone inside the house laughed, and Sophia glanced around him as if to make sure they both remained out of sight.
The scent of lavender wafted past him as it often did in her presence.
He never knew if it was from some concoction she’d brewed in her stillroom or from the stillroom itself.
“Not me,” she promised, leaning back again.
“Nor I,” he replied. “But if you’re so certain, I propose a scheme to save us both considerable trouble.”
She frowned. “Scheme, sir?”
Here came the tricky part. She might laugh. She might scold him again. But the possibility of her agreeing was worth any risk.
“If we are already engaged, there would be no need for the women to posture or the men to hound you.” Though he would be having words with his so-called cousin regardless. How dare the fellow push Sophia into hiding!
“Everyone knows I’m not engaged,” Sophia informed him archly. “And those women came in hopes they’d be engaged to you before the party ends.”
“Which is why,” Max said, “I suggest that we announce we are engaged to each other.”
She stared at him, green eyes wide, and he willed himself not to cringe. “What!”
He swiveled to face her more fully. “Think about it, Sophia. If you pretend to be engaged to me, DD would cease all his attentions. If for some reason he persisted, I’d have a perfectly valid reason to throw him out on his ear.”
Her mouth twitched as if she were imagining the look on his handsome cousin’s face as Max did the deed.
“I would like to see that. But while many will look the other way for a widow’s behavior, you stand to lose a great deal more by that kind of charade.
At the moment, Society is waiting to see what sort of duke you’ll be.
You would not want to be considered a jilt.
And you cannot disappoint these women’s hopes with less thought than you would put into choosing a cravat. ”
He’d put considerably more thought into his plan than that, not to mention spending a few nights wrestling with his conscience.
“I didn’t invite those ladies here,” Max reminded Sophia gently. “You, Claudia, and Georgie did. I don’t owe them my future.”
She rubbed her hand along her arm, and he realized that the night was coming in and bringing with it a welcome cool. He slipped off his evening coat and draped it about her shoulders. Her smile softened.
“You see, Max? You have a good heart. You will make some woman a wonderful husband.”
He had every intention. Before he’d learned he was next in line for a dukedom—something so unthinkable his late father hadn’t mentioned the fact that they were distantly related to the Darling family that held the Tyneham duchy—Max had wondered whether his profession of historian would ever allow him the luxury of supporting a wife.
But he’d put money aside, hoping, praying.
To have a soulmate, a companion so dear. What a treasure that would be!
He’d never expected to find her already a duchess and living in his own home!
And he’d always somehow thought she’d recognize his goodness even as he recognized hers.
Some might take exception to his russet hair or the fact that his eyes must be hidden behind spectacles if he was to see clearly, but he’d been told he was a passable specimen of a fellow. And he took pride in his character.
Immediately guilt tugged. A fellow of sterling character would hardly be proposing a lie.
But it wasn’t a lie, at least on his part. Nothing would make him happier than to be betrothed to Sophia, knowing their lives would soon be one. If he could only convince her of the possibility, perhaps she’d see that golden future too. Perhaps he could yet win her heart.
“I’d like the opportunity to choose my wife,” Max told her. “I know what I want, Sophia. And those ladies, no matter how lovely, talented, intelligent, and good-hearted, will never measure up.”
Her brows arched. “Your standards are that high, are they?”
“Very likely as high as yours.”
She laughed. “Oh, Max, we do make a pair.”
He smiled. “We do indeed.”
She sobered. “There is a difference, you know. My dower settlement is sufficient to see to all my needs. I needn’t marry again. You, on the other hand, are a duke who requires an heir. You must marry.”
“Someday,” he insisted. “When the right woman agrees to my proposal.”
She shook her head, and he could feel her slipping away. If only she could see that she was the right woman!
He took her hand in his. “Think of it this way, Sophia. At the moment, our guests are nervous and concerned over every word, every action, knowing themselves likely to be judged. If we were to pretend an engagement, they might feel more free to be themselves. Perhaps I’ll see a side of those ladies I haven’t seen so far. ”
She pulled from his grip, not even leaving him that comfort. “You’ve been in their company less than six hours, sir. Very likely, there are all manner of sides you’ve haven’t seen yet.”
“And am not likely to see so long as they feel they are in competition. By taking away the competition, you do them a favor.”
She regarded him out of the corners of her eyes, and he dared to hope.
“I see your point,” she allowed, “but I cannot like the lie. What happens should you decide you want one of these ladies after all? Do you think you can just do away with our engagement with a wave of your hand?”
Max shrugged. “You will graciously allow me out of our agreement, and I will explain that my love’s attributes quite swept me away. As you and your coconspirators have pointed out, I am a duke. I will likely be forgiven.”
She laughed again. “You might at that. Dukes can get away with many things unthinkable for mere mortals.” She tapped her chin with one gloved finger, and he waited, scarcely able to breathe.
Then her hand fell. “No, Max, I don’t think it will serve. Claudia, Georgie, and I chose these women with great care. I’m certain you’ll find one you can appreciate. I will do nothing to hinder that possibility.”
Max inclined his head, but he refused to give up. He’d already determined which woman he wished to wed, and nothing she or the others could do would change that.
Learn more.