Chapter 6

"There you are!"

Felicity heard the voice call for her from across the garden. She was sitting underneath a sprawling oak tree, taking advantage of its canopy because the sun shone warm this day and she didn't much like the idea of getting burned. With a book in hand, and the entire day before her, all she wished to do was read and relax because the previous evening had drained her both physically and mentally, and the last thing she needed was any added stress.

Alas, she had barely even started reading when she heard her father call out. A sigh to herself, she closed her book and looked up just in time to see him reaching her.

"I have been looking all over for you!" Her father looked flustered, panicked even. Red in the face, wide-eyed, something was clearly wrong.

"Did you think that maybe I did not wish to be found?"

He came to a stop before her, hands on hips. "You are still angry with me."

"I am not angry," she corrected him. "Simply annoyed."

"It is the same thing!"

"Can you blame me?" she questioned. He stood over her but she did not stand to meet him, hoping that whatever this was could be solved without having to move. "I told you I did not wish to meet with Lord Malbrow, but you refused to listen."

"He is one of my oldest friends!"

"Your friend, not mine," she said rightly. "And personally father, if that is the type you choose to be friends with, I have to call your judgement into concern."

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Why do you vex me so?"

"Oh, because it is so easy, father," she said with a sly smile. "Not that I enjoy it. But you do bring it out in me."

Last night ended in calamity. After her dance with the Duke, Felicity's father insisted that she share a drink with Lord Malbrow. She had told him she did not wish it. He had forced her to, nonetheless. And Felicity, unable to help herself, had chosen to go on the offensive when speaking with the uppity lord, saying some things that she knew she should not have, but also knew would firmly demonstrate to the man that she was no one to waste time on.

Needless to say, her father was not pleased. So angry was he that he all but warned her that she would marry this Season, whether she liked it or not!

"We will talk about it later," he growled at her, fixing her with a scowl that she knew better than to poke.

"I cannot wait." A smile and she opened her book again.

"No, no." Her father stepped forward and yanked the book from her hands. "I did not come out here to argue with you about last night."

"Oh?"

"You and His Grace," her father began, licking his lips nervously. "What did the two of you speak of?"

Felicity frowned at the question. "His Grace?"

"Yes, when he had you dancing. What did he say?"

Felicity felt her heart race as if from guilt. "Nothing. He... the two of us had exchanged some tense words earlier and he wished to make sure that there was no ill feeling." A beat. "It was nothing interesting, father, otherwise I would have told you."

"And that's all it was?"

"Of course," she insisted. And then, taking note of the nervous look on her father's face, she asked the next obvious question. "Why?"

She and her father hadn't spoken about her dance with the Duke. In fact, he had made a point of it. Not a fan of His Gace's, not wanting her to have anything to do with the man, as soon as she had returned, her father had been happy to pretend that nothing had happened. So the fact that he was bringing this up now, the next day, was strange, to say the least.

"He didn't ask to see you again?"

"What? No."

"He didn't imply that he would?"

"Father." She looked right at him. "What is going on?"

"It's His Grace," her father explained, looking all at sea for the confusion that took him. "He is here. Now. In the drawing room, wishing to speak with you!"

If Felicity hadn't been sitting, she might have fallen over. Rather, she was forced to contend with the world turning about her instead such that she fell back against the tree to steady herself.

"He... he is?"

"Yes!" her father exclaimed. "He rode in not ten minutes ago. No warning! No word sent! Just a request to speak with you." He raised both eyebrows at her. "Alone."

Felicity had no idea what to say. What to think! His Grace was here to see her? But why? What could he possibly want? She tried to think back to their conversation the previous night, to search through it quickly and discover his intent as her father stared down at her. But the more she thought about it, the more confused she became.

Oh, she had thought back to that dance several times since the Duke had left her. And she hated that she did. Where she would have liked to have hated the Duke, for that would have been easy, she simply could not bring herself to do so. He was charming. He was funny. He was damn courteous when he was trying to be. And worst of all, again, not something she wanted to admit but had no choice, he was so darn handsome that when she drifted off to sleep last night, her mind was filled with images of that smile, those eyes, a burly frame gripping her roughly as he led her about the dancefloor...

"Well!" her father exclaimed. "Do you have any idea?"

"Honestly? No, not a clue."

They had spoken of their public image. She had told him about her father's desire to marry her. They had bantered and joked and gotten along better than she would have thought possible. But try as she might, she couldn't remember an instance where he had implied he would want to see her again.

"He's in the drawing room," her father said with exasperation. "Waiting."

"So, I am to see him?" she asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

"What choice do we have? He is a Duke! I can't very well say no!"

"And what am I to say?"

"I suspect he will be the one doing the talking."

Felicity bit into her lip as she tried to calm herself. There was no reason to feel nervous. No reason to think this was anything nefarious. Maybe he just needed some advice? Perhaps it was to do with Lord Moore? Or maybe... a thought suddenly struck her, and when it did, the nerves that were flooding through Felicity turned cold as ice.

He had lied to her. Last night, he had lied to her face when she'd asked him why he had wanted to dance. He told her there was no reason for it. That he didn't want anything. Clearly, he did. He had been testing her. She had no doubt about that now. As to what he was testing her for? There could only be one reason...

"Leave it to me," she said coldly as she rose.

"I will be right outside the door."

"It is fine, father." She started across the garden, her glare already set. "I can handle His Grace!"

It was thus that when she found His Grace sitting in the drawing room by the fire she wasn't nervous or curious or even flattered that he had come to see her. She was rueful!

"Your Grace," she said with venom as she stalked into the room, closing the door behind her. "Fancy seeing you again so soon."

"Don't tell me." He rose from the chair and walked to her. "You're surprised?" When he reached her, he held out a hand so she could take it. But instead of that, she walked right on by.

"Not particularly." She took the seat across from where he was sitting. Then she turned back to look at him, cocking an eyebrow in derision. "The only shock I feel is toward myself."

"Meaning?" he frowned, not going for his seat because he must have sensed she was on the offensive.

"For daring to think good of you. Oh, you had me fooled for a moment, and I congratulate you on that. But it won't happen again."

His Grace started slowly toward his chair. "Have I done something to offend you, Lady Felicity? I confess, after our dance last night, I had thought we were past this?"

"Think again."

His frown deepened as he tentatively took the couch across from her. "I may have to. Why, I hoped for a better reception than this but now I see that was too much to dream for? I only wish I brought my winter coat with me," he chuckled awkwardly.

"You had me fooled, you know." She crossed her arms and glared at him. "But I suppose that is my fault, isn't it? I knew of your reputation and still, I fell right into the trap. Shame on me."

"Fooled? What are you talking about?"

"When I asked why you wanted to dance with me, you spun me some story about not wanting to start gossip, that you knew nobody would see us together and think anything could possibly be happening – that I was a safe bet, I believe was the phrase. But admit it." She raised both eyebrows at him. "Your true motive. I know you had one."

"Ah..." He sucked through his teeth. "It seems I have been found out."

"So, you admit it!"

"In a fashion." She could see the Duke relaxing before her, no longer on guard as he had been. Which was strange, as Felicity was just as hostile as she had been when she entered the room. But that same charming smile slowly worked its way up his lips, and he leaned back on the couch, getting comfortable. "But I can assure you, it's not what you think."

"And why do I not believe that?"

"Because," he shrugged. "You are a naturally distrusting person."

"I am not!"

"Of course you are," he chuckled. "Not that I can blame you. With all you have had to deal with in your life, it's only natural. I am the same."

"Do not compare yourself with me?"

"Why not?" He leaned forward.

"Because what people say about me is a lie, is why! Yet what they say about you is the truth!"

"And what do they say about me?"

Her eyes flashed. "That you are a no-good rake who toys with women for fun. That you gamble freely. That you spend your evenings in bars drinking them out of business. That... that... that you are a downright scoundrel!" She hadn't even noticed that she was shouting, that her breathing was so heavy, that she was so flushed and heated. Why did she let the Duke do this to her?

"Are you finished?"

"Not even close."

"And what about what they say of you? That you are a spinster who has no interest in men? That you would rather die alone than entertain the idea of marriage? Is that a lie, also?"

"Of course not!" she snapped.

"So, you admit that lies can be deceiving?"

"It is not the same thing." She narrowed her eyes at him, which he seemed to delight in, those thick lips of his curving into a smile. "Especially when taking into account your reason for being here."

He frowned and tilted his head. "And what is my reason for being here? Seeing as you know me so well."

"I thought that should be obvious." A deep breath and she tried for calm. "I was wondering the true reason you asked me to dance last night and now I know it." A cocked eyebrow and he gestured for her to explain. "You are here to try and seduce me into bed. Admit it!"

He laughed at that. "Is that what you think?"

"It is what I know."

Strangely, the Duke didn't seem put out by her observation. On the contrary, he seemed to take it in stride as if proud. He leaned back again, spreading himself on the couch, thick legs open, his dark green eyes searching and wicked. The confidence he embodied in that moment was as frustrating as it was hard to look away from. Felicity wanted to despise the man. She wanted to hate him. But dammit, if there wasn't something tempting about him... something that she could not look away from.

The Duke said nothing, choosing instead to smile coyly as he let her glare in his direction. A lick of his lips and she felt her heart flutter. For a brief moment, Felicity almost wondered just what it might be like if she were to give in to his --

No! A shake of the head and she composed herself. "Well?"

He chuckled deeply. "I am not here to seduce you, Lady Felicity."

"I do not believe that."

"You are right, however. Our dance last night. There were..." He clicked his tongue. "Sinister motives behind it."

"Oh, I am aware," she hissed.

"I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted to see if what they said about you was true or exaggerated. Honestly, I wanted to see if we could talk without biting one another's heads off. This conversation excluded, of course."

"And why did you wish to see that?"

"What you said last night, about marriage," he pivoted. "Did you mean it? That you had no intention of marrying unless you met the right man?"

"What do you care?"

"More than that, that your father was going to force you into a marriage whether you liked it or not and there was nothing you could do to stop him?"

She opened her mouth to snarl another response but the words caught in her throat. The Duke's posture had softened, his tone also. No longer trying to charm her. No longer joking and enjoying her anger. He looked at her honestly, as if he truly wanted to know the answer to his question. As if he actually cared.

"Wh -- what is it to you?" she managed, feeling her heart flutter for reasons she did not understand.

"I've been thinking about what you said," he began earnestly. "You know my own position, how... despised I am among our peers. What I have come to realize is that the easiest way to negate this perception and work toward fixing my image in the eyes of the ton is to marry. Someone respectable. Someone who's name is above reproach. And most importantly, someone who will marry me for convenience, rather than love."

"And what does this have to do with me?" she scoffed. In answer to that, the Duke raised a knowing eyebrow, and Felicity felt her stomach drop out from under her. "You are... No." A shake of the head. "Surely, you are joking?"

"Lady Felicity." The Duke sat up, shifted forward, and took Felicity by the hand. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?"