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Chapter 7

CHAPTER7

Amy snickered inwardly as she held onto the Duke of Leonbridge’s arm. The man had the very expression of someone who had been forced to swallow something extremely unfortunate but had no way of voicing out a single word of complaint.

Oh, you poor thing, she giggled to herself. But you haven’t seen the best part yet.

"Your Grace, what do you think of the name Alexander?" she asked him.

"Ah... err... it is a rather fine name."

"You think so?" Amy forced herself to look like an absolutely besotted fool.

"Truly!"

The Duke looked like he would rather be anywhere than with her, and Amy felt that, finally, victory was in her grasp!

She had been right—if she had continued to act as she always did, the Duke might only see her as a challenge and increase his efforts in pursuing her. If she acted like an obsessed fool—as most women unfortunately made the mistake of doing—it would send him running for the hills.

And the best part of her plan was that he might even warn his friends and acquaintances along the way, too!

Oh, I am so brilliant! I should have employed this strategy much earlier!

"Well then," she said in a soft, wispy voice. "We shall name our first son—your heir—Alexander. And if we have a daughter, I absolutely adore the name Lucinda!"

The Duke burst out in a small fit of coughing, and she did her best to look overly concerned as she ran her hands fretfully over his back.

But the show must go on. She must not miss a beat. She had to drive the nails in rapidly so that this doomed courtship would never be able to rise from the dead.

"Alexander will look exactly like you—tall and handsome—but with my green eyes, of course," she continued. "And Lucinda—" she giggled like she had lost half of her brain, "Why, Lucinda will look like me."

In all actuality, Amy did not care much for the name Lucinda. In fact, she thought it would make a suitable name for a spinster, and no man would ever want his daughter to descend into the abyss of spinsterhood. Even her father had come up with this insane idea, just so he could steer her away from that path.

Well, the Marquess of Irington, as much as she loved him, was wrong on that account.

It was much better to be a spinster than to live at the beck and call of a man who thought of women as mere objects, created to bring their progeny into this world.

Perhaps there were other men who weren’t as bad as she thought, but she never had the good fortune of making their acquaintance.

She noticed that the Duke had gone silent, so she peered up at him and noticed that he was clenching his jaw so tightly. And such a fine, manly jaw it was…

But back to the matter at hand! She could not afford to be so distracted. Not when her future was at stake!

She smiled softly and squeezed his arm, noting how the hard muscle felt under her gloved fingertips.

"Your Grace, it is all right to cry if you feel touched at the thought of our future," she told him gently. "Besides, we will be spending the rest of our lives together, will we not?" She giggled at that. "We might even have to come up with more names for more children! Why, we can have as many as six or eight!"

Amy inwardly rolled her eyes at that. Men did like to boast of their virility based on the number of children but could never be bothered to help in raising them. Besides, it was up to women to birth, nurse, and read their progeny.

It was simply yet another example of how unfair society was.

And as long as the scales did not tip in her favor, Amy did not find any reason why she should change her stance on marriage.

She would only double her efforts to avoid it—much to the Duke of Leonbridge’s misfortune.

But if only he would stop with this insanity and let her be, they need not go on with this farce. Judging from the way he looked extremely uncomfortable in her presence, she had the feeling that it would not be long before he would drop her as if she was a hot potato.

And she had no idea why that made her feel a little dismayed in the inside.

* * *

"You are mad, Amy. You are absolutely insane."

Amy smiled as she poured more tea for her best friend before reaching out for a scone. As soon as His Grace escorted her back home, she had sent word to Esther to invite her over for tea. She was bubbling with excitement to tell her that her ploy was successful—that the Duke had taken one look at her, seen the future according to the lurid picture she painted with her words, and quickly cut their stroll short, never to come back and darken her doorstep again.

"How could you do that, Amy? Your father will be livid if he finds out!"

Amy shrugged and bit delicately into her scone. "Well, I did not outright refuse the Duke. In fact, I acted like any simpering young miss with unrealistic dreams for the future."

"Yes, but magnified times a hundred!" Esther reminded her. "Only you could come up with—and pull off—such an outrageous stunt like that!"

"You mean that no one else would dare to do so."

"I meant that nobody else would be crazy enough to do so." Esther sipped at her teacup and wrinkled her nose. "What if His Grace tells your father about it? The Marquess will not be pleased to hear that is how you have treated your only suitor..."

Amy winked at her best friend. "Now, that is the best part of my plan. You see," she confided in a conspiratorial whisper, "no man would ever acknowledge that a young lady scared him off of an engagement, particularly a man of His Grace’s status. He will simply tell my father that we do not suit—which my father will have already expected—and that will be the end of that."

"You seem to have tied all the ends neatly in a pretty bow," Esther snorted, "but what if your plan fails? What if he comes back the next day?"

"You should have seen his face, my dear. The man looked like he was having the most agonizing toothache!"

"I don’t know," Esther shook her head in disbelief. "I still feel that something is not right. You acted absurdly to be sure. Who is to say that His Grace will not be as absurd as you?"

Amy grinned at that. "Well, I guarantee that he will not. I even think that he will go and tell his friends to steer clear of me, and I shall not be bothered until the end of this Season!"

And then, I shall be truly free to live my life on my terms as I please!

It was a good plan—the bestshe had had in ages. Naturally, Amy had ensured that she tied up all the loose ends. She could not allow her freedom to slip through her fingers.

Not when it was so close at hand that she could almost taste it.

I am so sorry for putting you through all this, Your Grace...but you should never have chosen to ask me to dance in the first place.

"But what are you going to tell your father about all this? Surely, he is going to suspect you have done something to scare the Duke away..."

Amy shrugged off her best friend’s concerns. "The same thing the Duke will tell him, I guess—that we do not suit. After all, every gentleman in London is well aware that I would make a poor choice for a wife."

A tinge of bitterness crept into her tone as much as she tried to crush it in her heart. It had not always been this way, after all. There was a time in her life that she thought she was headed for the matrimonial route, just like any other young lady in London.

She had made her debut, and although she was never the reigning belle of any Season, she did have a fair number of suitors. She had even come close to marrying one of them.

How fortunate she was to have avoided such a great misfortune!

She felt a soft hand reach out for her own and squeeze it gently. She looked up to find Esther’s warm brown eyes looking at her with all the kindness in the world. Even then, Amy could not bring herself to feel the sting of a single tear in her eye.

I must truly be as cold-hearted as that man said...

"Just because one man ruined everything for you does not mean that another will not come to put everything right."

Amy smiled bitterly at that. "It also does not mean that such a man will ever come, dear Esther. Sometimes, we have nobody but ourselves to rely on."

Both girls shared a knowing look. After all, they were both outcasts of the ton—one of them a bluestocking, and the other a sharp-tongued virago. Suitors were hardly lining up their doors. In fact, Lady Farthingon was at her wits’ end wondering how she was ever going to find a suitable match for her daughter, just like the Marquess of Irington had to resort to extraordinary means to increase Amy’s chances of finding that rare kind of man who would suit her.

"Are we... truly destined to live the rest of our lives alone?" Esther asked her softly.

She squeezed her friend’s hand reassuringly. "You will never be alone, my friend. You will always have me."

Esther’s eyes shone through her spectacles. "Then, how about this—if I do ever find that most elusive suitable match then I shall endeavor to find one for you as well."

Amy shook her head at that with a smile. "Oh no... you go be happy by yourself, dearest. I shall be quite content to live my life without a man to hamper me."

"And if you ever find a suitable match," Esther continued, "you must promise to find one for me! I cannot trust anyone else but you on this matter."

When Amy looked at her friend, she realized that Esther was quite serious about what she said—she truly trusted Amy with her future. She also realized for the first time that her friend might be a true romantic at heart, even if she did prefer to dwell in the realm of logic and facts most of the time.

There was still a part of Esther that held that dream. She just did not trust herself enough for it.

"I am quite honored, my dearest Esther," she smiled. "Although I daresay that Lady Farthingon will do her best to find you a good man, all things considered."

"Well, I learned from you that not all men can be trusted," her friend sighed as she picked at imaginary dirt on her dress.

"Lady Farthingon will not be pleased to hear you say that," Amy teased her. "She will think I am a bad influence on you."

"Mother already thinks we are a bad influence on each other."

"In that case," Amy winked at her, "it would be best that we both stick together."

Both girls smiled at each other and dissolved in a fit of giggles. For now, she had narrowly averted disaster.

Or so Amy thought.

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