Page 6 of Sincerely, the Duke
“Well, your, ah, letter—”
Miss Fine took hold of Mrs. Castleton’s arm as if to help steady her, and said gently, “Let me handle this, Auntie. I can see you are getting flustered, and I know you are tired.”
“Perhaps it is best, dearie. I can’t seem to keep my thoughts straight on what I’m to say, and I know how important this is.”
Settling her guarded gaze on Rick, Miss Fine continued softly, “My father passed early last winter, Your Grace. His cousin, Viscount Quintingham, is my guardian.”
“And why is he not here?” Rick asked a little more brusquely than he’d intended.
Mrs. Castleton made a sighing sound, catching Rick’s attention again. She was pale as a ghost and her bottom lip quivered. She looked to be on the verge of fainting while her niece was solid as a rock. “Palmer, show Mrs. Castleton into the drawing room. Give her a cup of tea and a vinaigrette if necessary.”
“No, no. I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I don’t want to… to be of any trouble. I’m going to be all right. A bit lightheaded perhaps and winded. It’s all a bit overwhelming, you know, talking to a duke about such matters.” She blinked rapidly. “Not only that, but it’s not proper that I leave Edwina alone with you. I assured the viscount I could manage this quite efficiently.” She stopped abruptly.
Rick narrowed distrusting eyes on the intriguing Miss Fine as he shifted his stance. It could be possible she was out to catch him in a parson’s mousetrap, but he didn’t think so. Women who tried such devious tactics to snare an unsuspecting gentleman were usually more accommodating and approachable than Miss Fine seemed to be. She’d not made the first move to entice him with soft, sweet-sounding sighs, or tempting, pouty lips moving ever closer to his. All of which he would enjoy if she were so inclined.
“No need to concern yourself with thoughts of impropriety, Mrs. Castleton,” he answered in an obliging tone.“I assure you I’m not going to ravish your niece in the vestibule of my home.”
The elder lady gasped. Determination remained settled in the younger lady’s lovely features. Her glittery green eyes held steady on his and her self-confidence seemed unshaken. He hadn’t truly riled her yet, as Palmer had, but perhaps he was close.
“I ask your pardon,” Rick said. He typically didn’t think twice about what he said or to whom. For as long as he could remember his position in life had safeguarded him from much of the usual civility of Polite Society. His internal need for privacy fed that and most people accepted it without question or rancor.
“She’s safe,” he amended what he’d said moments before and then took a deep, short impatient breath. “You’ll only be twenty feet away. I have no doubt she’ll call if she needs you.”
“True, Your Grace.” Miss Fine gave him a pointed stare before looking at her aunt. “Please go sit down, Auntie. You’ve been tired and worried for days now and you do look peaked. I’m capable of keeping the duke in line.”
Rick’s brows drew together tightly. She said that as if she believed it to be true.
Mrs. Castleton looked from her niece to Rick before stammering, “I am feeling… a touch weak. It’s… it was a long and tiring journey to London without much rest since we arrived.”
Miss Fine smiled affectionately at her aunt. “Please accept the duke’s hospitality and rest for a few minutes. I’ll take care of this for you.”
Suspicion concerning Miss Fine seeped into Rick’s bones once again as Palmer showed her aunt down the corridor toward the drawing room. Rick ran a handthrough his hair and slightly shook his head. His impatience was growing but his interest in the young lady hadn’t deteriorated. He didn’t know what kind of nonsense she was trying to accomplish, or how she could do it while looking completely innocent of any subterfuge. He was still attracted to her, and that stirred thoughts of wanting to know more.
The second Mrs. Castleton’s back disappeared around the corner and into the drawing room, Rick stepped closer to Miss Fine. She didn’t back away or flinch, which pleased him. He wanted to reach out and brush his fingers down her satiny-looking cheeks, but instead, keeping his gaze fastened on hers and his voice deceptively low to hide his primal feelings and mounting skepticism of her having pure intentions, he asked, “What are you up to, Miss Fine?”
“What amIup to?” she repeated, keeping her composure. “I may have been precipitous in coming here without benefit of notice, but now that I am here, we should be discussing what your designs are concerning me.”
That comment was more cause to be wary again. “Mine?” She was devoid of fear, but he couldn’t let that cloud his judgment. “Perhaps you want to expound on that.”
“I find it most disconcerting you seem to be taken aback by my aunt’s words regarding your proposal.”
His heart thrummed tightly. There was that word again.Proposal.That usually only meant one thing when coming from a lady. Her observance of him was as keen as any man he’d ever faced in a shooting match. What did she know that he didn’t? Best he find out.
“I am,” he said with a hardened jaw.
She glared at him and sucked in a soft breath. “Then why did you send it to me?”
They weren’t making much progress on furthering their bizarre conversation, and he wasn’t a long-suffering man. Perhaps she’d thought of controlling him through mindless chatter that went nowhere as she had his butler.
“What exactly is it you think I sent you, Miss Fine?”
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she drew herself up proudly once more. “Since your memory is so fleeting, perhaps this will refresh it.”
He watched the graceful movements of her hands as she slipped the ribbons of her reticule off her wrist, opened it, and pulled out a folded sheet of exceptional parchment. She extended it toward him with a sense of hesitancy in her actions.
“I received this several days ago.”
Guarded, he took the folded sheet from her and looked at it in stunned disbelief. His breath pooled thickly in his throat. There in his bold hand was a somewhat formal offer of marriage:Miss Edwina Fine, Will you marry me?Withhissignature.
