Chapter 3 #2
The Duke’s smirk flickered, but his tone remained sure. “It must. It’s her or no one.”
“Are you toying with us, Your Grace? Because this feels hardly amusing.”
Lady Blanche’s response was unexpected, but then again, everything about her seemed to be, which amused and fascinated Heath equally. Unlike other ladies in her position, she hadn’t sighed in excitement or even flinched at the sudden proposal.
She didn’t even seem bothered by her improper attire for a society lady—let alone an Earl’s daughter—with her hair simply braided and her dress devoid of adornments or jewelry.
Not that she needed them, of course. Standing there, Heath found her even more enchanting than the night they’d met. The cream hue of her spring dress blended perfectly with her fair skin, accentuating the rosy flush of her cheeks and the vibrant green of her eyes.
And those curves… those curves gave her an irresistibly alluring silhouette. His palms itched to have her in his arms once more.
She was a delightful creature, stirring Heath’s instincts in more ways than one.
He particularly enjoyed how she responded not with submission but with stubborn self-assurance. Lady Blanche studied him with suspicion, yet her posture remained that of a proud, strong woman.
A lady he would undoubtedly relish in unraveling.
“I’ve no intention of mockery. How could my proposal be a joke?” Heath said, returning to the subject and looking at Blanche with intensity, trying to convey the depth of his decision.
“We’ve met once,” Lady Blanche stated, setting her cup down. “And our encounter was neither tender nor affectionate.”
Heath knew marriage was essential—to silence the whispers that threatened his political stance. And she was the only woman who made the prospect tempting.
“Indeed, this isn’t about love,” Heath conceded. “Yet the same rationale applies to… interest.”
His words seemed to unsettle her. She studied him with a raised brow and sharp, intelligent eyes—but recovered quickly.
“I don’t know what you expect, Your Grace, but understand this: I’m not the sort of lady who mistakes obedience for kindness, blindly accepting a man’s every word without question.”
“Believe me, Lady Blanche—I’m counting on that.”
“This was precisely what I was trying to avoid,” interjected Lady Gooldwer, evidently heated. “My dear Blanche is too… temperamental. Your Grace, I’m sure that Fanny would suit you better.”
Silence.
Lady Fanny Waldron inhaled sharply, her gaze darting between her mother and Heath, as if unsure whether she had misheard.
Blanche stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.
“She’s far sweeter in temperament, calm and agreeable—whereas Blanche has always been… difficult.”
Heath’s amusement vanished. His jaw tightened, his fingers flexing against the armrest of his chair.
Difficult.
The word hung in the air, sharp and unkind, and Heath found himself resisting the urge to scoff.
Difficult?
Lady Blanche had met him with confidence as she addressed her father’s debts. Coupled with Lady Gooldwer’s clueless remarks about their predicament during their private conversation, Heath assumed that Blanche was the one holding the family together.
And yet, here was her mother, dismissing her as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Heath stood, his movements deliberate, his gaze unwavering.
“I’m not here to negotiate, Lady Gooldwer, nor will I change my mind.” His voice was firm, edged with finality. “I know what I want.”
His eyes locked onto Blanche, who flushed scarlet under his scrutiny.
“My offer is for Lady Blanche. I intend to marry—my dukedom deserves a proper duchess—but it will be her, or I will leave as I arrived. Alone.”
The weight of his words settled over the room, silencing even Lady Gooldwer.
She faltered, clearly flustered. “I—of course, Your Grace… I meant no offense…”
Heath did not respond.
Instead, he turned to Blanche, his expression unreadable.
“I understand this is sudden, but I see an opportunity for us both. You need me, and I need you. This isn’t about love—it’s business.”
Blanche hesitated, her mind racing. She inhaled deeply, then straightened. “If I were to accept…There are debts—”
“Which I’ll settle without issue.” Heath’s tone was unwavering. “I’ll assume all financial responsibilities, as befits my name.”
Lady Gooldwer, regaining some of her composure, eagerly added, “Your offer is most generous! My girls need new gowns, ribbons, jewels to replace what we’ve lost—”
“Mother!” Blanche’s cheeks burned with anger. “We need to pay creditors, not indulge in more finery!”
Heath exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “My future bride shall have both.” His words were not merely a promise—they were a declaration. “In return, I expect a wife who represents me with dignity—who obeys my rules and serves as a proper duchess.”
His gaze met hers, steady, unwavering. “Can you do that, Lady Blanche?”
“Of course she can!” Lady Gooldwer interjected. “She’ll be everything you desire—”
Blanche cut her off. “I’ll be the duchess you expect—and obey your rules, provided they’re reasonable.”
“Then am I to assume you accept?”
For a moment, all eyes were on Blanche. Tension hung thick as she drew a breath—then nodded slowly, meeting Heath’s gaze.
“Yes. I will marry you.”