Chapter 9

"Ido not believe it!" Phoebe squealed.

"Will you keep it down!" Felicity hissed, hastily looking across the bedroom to make sure that the door was closed. "Father is right downstairs."

"His Grace!" Phoebe continued wistfully, floating across the room with her hands clutched together. "A Duke! I simply cannot believe it! How did this happen?!"

"It will not happen, if you do not keep your voice down!" Felicity warned her sister again, eyes wide, expression set. "I have not told father of what His Grace wanted. I do not think I can."

"What did you tell him?"

"A lie, of course. That he wished to apologize for something he said last night – you know what father thinks of His Grace. If he found out what His Grace offered, doing so without speaking to him first..." She shook her head. "He would do everything he could to try and stop it."

"Do you think so?" Phoebe frowned. "Our father may not like His Grace, but even he would not deny your hand to a Duke."

"Maybe..."

Phoebe's eyes lit up and her smile was so wide it seemed to cut her face in half. "The way you are speaking..." She hurried to take Felicity's hands. "You have decided then. You are going to say yes!"

"What? No!" Felicity snatched her hands away. "Of course not."

"To think, the two of us in the same Season!" Phoebe continued merrily, ignoring her sister now because she was lost in her own fancies. "Who would have guessed it!" She spun about, excitement pouring from every inch of her. "And Lord Moore and His Grace are best friends. A double wedding! Can you imagine it, Felicity!"

"I cannot imagine it because I have not agreed to it."

"I am sure Lord Moore would say yes," Phoebe continued, more to herself than Felicity. "I know how close they are. The way he speaks of His Grace, there is love there – like brothers, they are. Why, I would not be surprised if he suggested a double wedding. He is rather romantic like that," she sighed, her eyes glazed over.

Felicity groaned and rubbed her eyes as if in pain. Perhaps it had been a bad idea, bringing this up to her sister of all people. Ever since her engagement turned official, she had become somewhat insufferable. She floated around the house at all hours, singing to herself and giggling incessantly. She spoke about Lord Moore at every chance she got. She always turned the conversation toward love and romance. Why, Felicity was certain that even if the world was ending, Phoebe would find a way to put a positive spin on it.

Sadly, Felicity had nobody else to talk with. It was just fifteen minutes ago when the Duke had left her stunned in the drawing room, truly flabbergasted and frozen to the spot; such was the shock that embodied her.

She had tried going for a walk to clear her head. Tried running over the conversation in an effort to find the deception – for surely, there must be. In the end, however, she was forced to admit it was exactly as the Duke had said. A marriage of convenience and nothing more.

"It is not that simple," she countered her sister, who was only half listening.

"Sure it is!"

"I will remind you, sister, that just last week you had nothing but awful things to say about His Grace."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "A lot can change in a week. And if he wishes to marry, well doesn't that prove the point? That he has changed? That he wishes to prove himself a new man."

Felicity scoffed at the notion. Ironically, she was falling victim to the exact line of propaganda that His Grace wished to exploit. The idea that marrying a lady of the ton somehow proved him a reformed man. Never mind who he was beforehand. Never mind the troves of poor women he had left in his wake. One good deed was all it took, apparently. A laughable concept.

"You were listening, were you not?" Felicity rose and took her sister by the hands, forcing her to pay attention. "To what I told you. The reason the Duke wishes to marry me."

"Excuses and nothing more," Phoebe assured her. "He loves you, Felicity. He must! What else is marriage but an expression of love and romance and all that is right in this wonderful world."

Felicity suppressed a groan. "I do not care about that."

"Of course you do!"

"On the face of it, I should be thrilled by the offer." She was speaking more to herself than her sister at this point, as Phoebe was proving herself to be all but useless. "If not His Grace, I will be forced to marry somebody else. At least with His Grace, we are on the same page. He knows what I want, and I know what he wants."

"Romance?"

Felicity ignored her. "But is that what he wants? What if this is some sort of trick? What if he is just saying all these things because... because... because... I do not even know – to get me into bed, most likely. His Grace cannot be trusted. Right? Everyone says as much."

"Can I ask you a question?" Phoebe asked with surprising calm.

"I suppose so."

"Do you want to marry him? Assuming everything he has said is true, would you say yes?"

"Yes." A beat as she considered. "I think I would."

What a strange revelation. Stranger still that it sparked something inside Felicity. Was that... excitement? For a brief moment, she wondered what a marriage to His Grace would be like. She imagined her on his arm, how they might look together, his burly frame and strong presence, his dashing smile, a perfect coupling to the eye. A shame it wasn't nearly that simple.

"And it is simply an issue of trust that is stopping you?"

"Well... yes, I suppose so. And the fact that I don't very well like the man either does not help. But I also feel that is the point."

"You know what you must do then? Truly, I am surprised that you have not considered this. It is, in my opinion, the second-best part of a betrothal. The best part being, of course, the actual marriage itself."

"And you are referring to..."

"The courtship!" Phoebe squealed. "You wish to know His Grace's intentions? Find out for yourself. Say yes to the marriage, but only if he courts you properly first."

Felicity frowned. "That is... no. That defeats the entire purpose of this marriage."

"How come?"

"I told you why. This marriage is --"

"For convenience, yes. But the two of you still must live together. You still must get along, at least enough that you can stand to be in the same room. Why not take an extra week or two, spend some time together, get to know the man you might marry." She pumped her eyebrows. "And if in the interim, the two of you... oh, I don't know, fall in love. All the better."

"Now you go too far."

"Never!" Phoebe cried for the world to hear, clasping her hands to her chest and looking to the sky as if angels had suddenly descended.

Putting aside the obvious hyperbole and aspirations of love that Phoebe was cheering for, Felicity couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, even interest, toward her other point. That being, spending time with His Grace before she agreed to marry him. A relatively obvious observation, one would assume, but something that Felicity hadn't even considered.

The simple fact was that she did not trust His Grace. Based on everything she knew of the man, she had no reason to and every reason to believe there was more to this proposal than what he was offering. But if she was to get to know him a little better, then maybe she would be able to find out for herself how serious he was... or if he was trying to take advantage.

Somehow, she sensed the Duke would not like this suggestion one little bit. Although, and to be perfectly truthful, the notion of upsetting the Duke, even frustrating him, excited her all the more...