Page 35 of The Lion Duke's Proposal
“I don’t like it,” he growled. “They’re guests here, and they shouldn’t be disparaging you. I doubt they’d dare if I were in earshot.”
“It’s only for a day or two longer,” she reminded him. “Besides, I’m sure that there would only be more to take their places.”
He frowned. “I suppose you’re right. You know that our ‘courting’ will only draw further attention to you as well. Are you going to be able to handle that?”
She shrugged. “I knew what I signed up for. It’s the only way.”
His gaze softened. “I’ll help as much as I can. You know, my old friend Henry had strong opinions on this subject. He used to say that the problem with Society isn’t made up of the individuals in it, but the common will of the herd. Rather than trying to change opinions, you change the custom, and the opinions of everyone will slowly follow.”
“He sounds like a wise person.”
“He was.” The Duke paused with a fond look of reminiscence. “Do you know he was the first one to ever give me my nickname?”
“The Lion?”
“Yes. He was a little older than I was, so he was always very properly groomed to try to set an example when we were kids.He’d call me that admonishingly every time I came out to play with my hair sticking up all over the place. He said it was like a mane.”
Julia laughed. She had no idea that the provenance of the name was something so innocuous. “The nickname has stuck for a reason,” she replied with a fond smile as her eyes traveled over the shape and disorder of his long locks. “But I would never have imagined that’s where it came from.”
“Oh? You think me like a lion in other ways, then?”
She shifted, her cheeks growing hot. This conversation was veering into dangerous territory, especially since they were still alone in the parlor. But something about his honest expression made her want to keep talking, to keep finding out more about this enigma that was the Duke of Pridewell. But what could she say? Could she mention his power, his presence, his proud bearing? The way he seemed to dominate a room just by being in it?
He seemed to realize he’d flustered her and grinned, saving her from having to answer. “Well, it seems to me that you stood up for yourself today like a lioness, so perhaps we’re a good match.”
“Now you’re just teasing again,” she complained, turning away from him to hide her blush and busying herself with tidying the pile of shards. “Besides, I thought male lions were lazy and let females do all the work. Is that what you’re trying to say? You’ll make me do everything in this fake courtship?”
She felt a warm hand take her arm, and before she could process the sensation, she was whirled around and was suddenly face to face with him, closer than she’d ever been before. Her heart began to beat faster, his woody cologne overtaking her senses yet again as she met his dark eyes. She shivered. Julia had never been this close to a man like the Duke before. She somehow felt terrified, exhilarated, and spellbound all at once. Her head was spinning as he leaned in even closer, far too close for either propriety or comfort.
“Male lions also fight for what they care about,” he whispered, and his breath was hot on her ear. “Once you’re under a lion’s protection, he’ll do anything to keep you safe. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”
She couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response. After a beat, he blinked and seemed to come to his senses a little because he stepped back and let go of her arm. She barely had time to miss the warmth of his touch before he brushed past her quickly and left the room, leaving her confused, breathless, and more intrigued by him than ever.
Not long later, she retired to her room and found Poppy already asleep in bed. Not wanting to disturb her, Julia disrobed quietly and went to open the window, wanting to let in the cool breeze from outside. For some reason, she was feeling rather hot tonight. As she did so, she caught sight of something on the windowsill that hadn’t been there earlier.
Surprised, she picked it up. It was an envelope, evidently hand-delivered since it didn’t have an address or stamp, just her name.She looked around outside the window but saw nobody there. Who could have sent this missive here? Was it from the Duke? Lord Blackwell, perhaps, wanted to deliver a secret message about Poppy? Or could it be a threat from Miss Burbank?
She opened it quietly. The writing was small, and the moonlight didn’t provide enough light to make reading the message any easier. She was forced to pad over to light the candle by her bed, checking to make sure she didn’t inadvertently wake up her sister, and squint by the tiny, flickering flame.
Julia,
I’ve been trying to contact you. We need to meet - I’m sorry about the way I left, but one day you’ll understand why I did it. Please come and find me at the Tavistock Inn off Leicester Square. I’ll be staying there for a few weeks before heading back to Europe. Do not tell anyone else where I am, especially your betrothed, and come alone. I await your visit.
It was signed with her father’s signature. She sighed. She’d expected a rush of excitement at hearing from him, perhaps a flash of hope or relief, but all she felt was resignation. Of course, he was already back in London, just like the Duke had thought. He hadn’t contacted Mr. Brown, obviously, or done anything about their dowries, but he must have been meeting with people, because he’d heard about her ‘betrothal.’
Well, if she got the chance to meet her father, she was sure that she could convince him to do the right thing. He had always been chaotic, messy, difficult, and generally problematic, but shedidn’t genuinely believe him to be a bad person. He would come around once she explained their situation; she was sure of it.
The big question now was, she thought as she blew out her candle and settled into bed: should she tell the Duke what she’d learned?
The following morning, Leander yawned as he tried to focus on the mountain of paperwork in front of him. He had been leaving much of his work aside due to the party, and now his negligence was catching up with him. Sheets upon sheets of account balances, supplier invoices, and various import duties swam before his blurry eyes. He hadn’t got much sleep the previous night, after the events that occurred in the lounge and then that strange interaction he’d had with Miss Norish in the parlor.
He’d gone in there with the best of intentions, simply thinking to check how she was faring after hearing from the housekeeper that there had been a rather severe falling-out among the ladies. Coming hot off the heels of his altercation with the Suffolks, he was more than ready to leap to her defense once again, but as it turned out, she’d done it by herself. He was admittedly impressed by her courage. It took a lot to stand on firm ground in front of a room full of people.
Then there had been that…moment. He wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from or how it had flustered him so immensely.
He had been in control of the conversation — he was always in control — and then something had shifted, some line he hadn't known he was approaching until he had already crossed it, and he had pulled her closer without quite deciding to move.
He told himself it was an emphasis. That she needed to understand, concretely and without ambiguity, that his protection was not a figure of speech. That was when he said he would keep her safe; he meant it in the particular way he meant everything — completely, and without exception.
