Chapter Nineteen #4
“Indeed, you are not,” the duke said, almost thoughtfully.
As if it had just occurred to him. “I rather thought he might end up with someone more like”—he pretended to scan the room and then his gaze landed on Philippa, and her phalanx of fawning men—“your sister.” He cleared his throat in a grotesque way that gave Harriet the urge to clear her own, and then continued.
“If he ended up with someone at all, that is. He was so determined not to marry. He meant to anger me, which is why I suppose he chose you.” The duke cracked what, on a normal person, would be a friendly smile, but on him looked strained and snakelike.
Harriet had thought herself somewhat immune to men’s ill-opinion of her, but his asperity was jarring.
Perhaps she had let her emotions show, because the duke continued: “I don’t mean to insult you—you’re quite clever, I concede. How does such a girl end up in line to be a duchess? You must admit it’s rather remarkable of you. A coup.”
“I assure you, Your Grace, I have no desire to be a duchess.”
He laughed, a brittle, unpleasant sound.
“Oh, but you will! Not to fret, I’m not upset.
Alexander has quite pigheaded ideas about what will anger me.
Could he have made a better match? Perhaps.
But with the proper tutors, we can shape you into an appropriate wife for him.
You seem rather … malleable,” the duke hissed out, making it clear that he meant something entirely more insulting with the word.
“Never fear, he has plenty of income; there will still be enough left over for a generous allowance.” He patted Harriet’s arm then, and she began to feel ill.
“Would you like to dance, Lady Alexander?” He once again employed his serpentine smile, not removing his hand from her arm. Never before had Harriet been so grateful for her inability to quadrille.
“I’m afraid I cannot dance, Your Grace, although I appreciate the invitation.”
“You cannot dance?” The duke was affronted. An ugly daughter-in-law was insult enough, but the inability to dance? It was beyond the pale.
“The instructor had his hands quite full with my sisters; my lack of innate talent was simply too much for him to undertake.” Harriet shored herself with a deep breath and then continued.
She wouldn’t let this man cow her, no matter his rank or relation to her.
“I couldn’t agree more with your assessment of my unsuitability for your son, Your Grace.
I’m a wallflower. I had five unsuccessful seasons.
My father is poor, which is about the kindest thing you can say about him.
” She said all this in a treacly, biddable voice, the kind one used to present horrible men with the type of information they wanted to agree with.
And if some of that information was false?
Well. Harriet had learned the usefulness of dishonesty with violent men and felt no compunction about the lie she was about to tell.
“However, I can assure you that my sister, Lady Ellerton, has been very generous. My sisters and I aren’t at all in need, despite my father’s unfortunate situation.
I know it’s unbecoming of a lady to speak of money, and I’m reluctant to do so, but I do want to assuage your concerns.
The late Baron Ellerton left her quite a lot of land and other holdings.
I’ll endeavor to keep out of your son’s coffers as much as possible.
Although we might have to dip into them to find a dance instructor with enough patience and expertise.
” And then she did borrow something from Philippa. She winked at him.
Harriet felt quite satisfied with herself.
She had hit all the points she needed to for this type of man—self-deprecation, demureness, recognition of etiquette, a general awareness of her own inferiority.
The oily smile on the duke’s face suggested she hadn’t made a single misstep.
Upon reflection, she might have brought up the bit about not speaking of money a little sooner in the speech.
Or maybe even thrown in something flattering about the duke to stroke his ego. Ah, well, next time.
It was just then that Alexander arrived at her side.
Had she been focused on anything other than calming her heart rate, she might have noticed how he’d rushed over immediately after his dance with the beautiful woman ended.
Or that that exact woman had ended up on his father’s arm. As it was, she noticed neither.
“Congratulations, my son. I think you’ll be able to bring her to heel quite nicely,” the duke said by way of greeting.
To Harriet he added, “Please let me know if you need help finding any tutors. We should like to represent the Belhaven line well at all times, no matter the cost. All one has is one’s good name and good breeding.
” The dig at Alexander’s birth was rather obvious. “I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Of course.” Harriet nodded with her widest smile yet, grinding her heel into Alexander’s boot to keep him from adding something that might undo all her simpering. “It was a true honor to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”