Page 11 of Two Blessings For His Duchess
“I am thinking,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“You think a great deal, it seems,” he countered, his voice softening just a fraction, though the edge remained.
“I know,” she replied softly.
Sensing the sudden shift in her demeanor, Nathaniel closed the distance between them. His boots clicked softly against the hardwood floor as he walked up to her side. Euphemia lifted her head, her blue eyes meeting his brilliant emerald gaze as he looked down at her.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his mouth. “You seem disappointed.”
Euphemia let out a small, weary breath. “Is it so obvious?”
“Extremely,” Nathaniel said. “Though I must say, it should come to you as a profound relief, not disappointment. This is a win-win scenario for both of us, Miss Vane. It saves your reputation from absolute ruin, and it ensures that no one can accuse me of compromising an innocent woman. We are simply solving a problem.”
“I know,” she said simply. “It is the most logical response to this.”
“Then why do you look like you’re facing an executioner?”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell between them. Nathaniel remained standing right in front of her, his tall shadow completely eclipsing her on the settee as he looked down at her. Euphemia swallowed hard, the muscles in her throat tight and dry.
She stared at the polished leather of his boots, her mind spinning into absolute disbelief.
‘How did my life become this?’she thought wildly. It felt entirely unreal. Just yesterday morning, she hadn’t even known what the Duke of Greymoor looked like. Now, twenty-four hours later,the very same man was standing in her morning room, casually appointing himself her husband.
Who actually was this man?
She barely knew a single thing about him. It felt completely absurd that the most important decision of her entire life was to marry a person she knew absolutely nothing about, save for his grand, intimidating name. She hadn’t done any research. She hadn’t consulted Lady Byron. For all she knew, he could be a wicked, cruel tyrant who locked his wives in the attic, or he could be a perfectly noble gentleman. He was an absolute enigma, wrapped in armor, and frankly, he was more than a little scary.
As she sat there, practically drowning in the sheer weight of her own thoughts, Nathaniel leaned down just a fraction. His eyes narrowed, losing their sharp, defensive edge for a brief moment.
“Did you really stumble into my room by mistake, Miss Vane?” he asked quietly.
Euphemia lifted her head, her gaze meeting his. “Yes,” she said, her voice small and traitorously shaky. “Yes, I did.”
Nathaniel studied her face for a beat, as if checking her features for any sign of a lie. Satisfied by the terror in her eyes, he let out a short, breathy exhale that was almost a laugh. “Then you have the most spectacularly foul luck of any woman alive. Two scandals, in one season?”
A faint, ironic smile tugged at the corner of Euphemia’s mouth, despite her panic. “Funnily enough, I was just reviewing that exact cosmic failure with my sisters this morning.”
“Splendid,” Nathaniel remarked dryly. “Then we already have something in common. We both agree that your sense of direction is a threat to the realm.”
Euphemia lowered her head, looking down at her hands to hide the blush warming her cheeks.
“Now, to the logistics,” Nathaniel continued. He straightened up, adjusting his cuffs. “My mind is entirely made up about this matter. We will be married in a week. I will handle the procurement of the special license myself, and I will handle the scandal sheets too, to ensure the announcement looks like a long-standing, mutual affection rather than a desperate cover-up. You do not need to trouble your head with any of it. I also do not require a dowry. You can do with it as you wish. I only want your hand.”
Euphemia could only nod. The sheer speed at which her life was being rearranged by this man left her completely breathless.
“Very well,” Nathaniel said. “I shall take my leave and allow you to break the news to your family.”
He turned on his heel, his coat sweeping behind him as he began to walk toward the morning room door, clearly ready to put this uncomfortable conversation behind him. But right as his fingers touched the brass handle, he stopped.
He froze, his shoulders tensing, before he slowly turned back around to look at her.
“There is one detail that still puzzles me, Miss Vane,” Nathaniel said, his brow furrowing as he studied her posture. “You do not want to marry me. I can see it in the way you hold yourself, and frankly, I am unaccustomed to it. A marriage to a man of my standing usually heals all social wounds, yet you look as though I have just sentenced you to the gallows. I am a man who requires absolute clarity, and your profound misery confuses me.”
Euphemia slowly rose to her feet, meeting his sharp gaze. She couldn’t very well admit that she was a romantic at heart, or that she had spent her life dreaming of a genuine love match that had now been thoroughly crushed.
“People simply have different reactions to news, Your Grace,” she replied quietly, keeping her tone respectful but completely honest. “Please do not mistake my demeanor for ungratefulness. I am fully aware of the situation, and I know your offer saves me. In fact, I should apologize to you. I am deeply sorry for roping you into this disaster.”
Nathaniel stared at her, genuinely intrigued. “Your disappointment is an unexpected variable, Miss Vane,” he murmured, stepping back into the room by a single pace. He looked as though he wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into the mind of the strange woman standing before him. Then, he shook his head slightly, his mask clicking back into place. “However, I shall not probe any further. I have never been a man who meddles in unnecessary mysteries.”
