Page 20 of The Odyssean Duke
Stephan laughed, uncertain how to answer her. Murrayton was his friend, so it was not unexpected that he would speak kindly of him. However, something about hearing this elegant lady say it was unsettling.
“I have neglected you,” Murrayton said. “Will you excuse us, Amelia? I convinced Rothbury to attend this garden party with me, and I believe he agreed only working on the assumption that I would help him find a suitable duchess.”
“Oh!” Lady Murrayton exclaimed. “Well, certainly. But I must ask that you spare me at least one dance beneath that charming willow tree.”
Murrayton grinned. “Of course.”
“A pleasure, Your Grace,” Lady Murrayton replied.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Stephan said.
He carefully concealed his relief as she left and was soon lost among a froth of colorfully clad ladies.
“How did you find Lady Brookshire’s daughters?” Murrayton asked. “Not too fetching, I assume. Otherwise, you would not have abandoned them so quickly.”
“They were…” Stephan searched for a charitable descriptor. “They were charming.”
“Only charming.”
“I fear the fault lies not with them but with me,” Stephan said. “I do not feel as if I belong here anyway, and they look so hopeful when they approach me.”
“Of course, they look hopeful,” Murrayton said. “They wish to marry you.”
“The wish to marry a duke,” Stephan said. “But I fear they are imagining a long, happy marriage. They want a man who loves them.”
Murrayton raised a brow. “They are imagining a husband who can provide them with security. Very few ladies among the ton marry for love. You cannot have been away for so long that you have forgotten?”
“No,” Stephan agreed. “But I also have no wish to have a woman be miserable on my account.”
“I doubt your wife would be miserable,” Murrayton pointed out. “The dukedom prospers. You would have enough money to give your wife all the gowns, balls, and soirees she desired.”
Stephan inwardly recoiled, imagining such a wife. He could only hope that she was one who would not want to involvehimin her designs for balls and soirees. Evelina’s fierce green eyes came to mind, conjured from the depths of his memory. A woman could not have offered better conditions.
“Of course, that is…” Murrayton trailed off, his brow furrowing.
“Yes?”
“That is assuming she produces an heir,” Murrayton said with the air of a man who was speaking very carefully.
“I have considered that,” Stephan said quietly. “I have a considerable fortune, but…”
There was a difference between a man with a considerable fortune and a man with the means to support an entire dukedom. His throat was suddenly tight, and he tried to clear it.
“It does not matter, though,” Stephan said. “I refuse to let my grandmother win. She manipulated my father for years and always turned everything in her favor. No more.”
“Very well,” Murrayton said. “Perhaps you will be more receptive to Lady Thornwall’s advances.”
Stephan chuckled. His pulse leaped at the thought of the Dowager Countess indicating even the smallest hint of interest in his proposal. He had been significantly more comfortable with her than with the ladies at the garden party, and at least, they both knew what the other expected.
“But Lady Thornwall is not…” he trailed off, as he felt the eyes fixed upon him.
Stephan’s gaze swept over the crowd, and at last, he found her. She wore a white gown embroidered with sweeping greenery and delicate blue blossoms along the hem and over the bodice. He inhaled sharply, a warm appreciation curling inside his chest. She was even lovelier in the daytime when he could discern her delicate form beneath the gown. An older woman stood beside her; the resemblance between the pair was strong enough that he surmised this was Lady Thornwall’s mother.
“She is here,” Murrayton said.
“Yes.” The word was scarcely louder than a breath of air. “Excuse me.”
He struggled to maintain a steady pace as he approached Lady Thornwall. She straightened nearly imperceptibly, her expression sharp. “My lady,” he said, bowing. “It is a pleasure to see you here.”
