Page 10 of My Deal with the Wrong Duke

“I hardly promised,” she insisted. “I merely… mentioned that I would think about it.”

His smile shifted. “Honesty is a quality that I rather admire.”

She held his gaze. “I believe that your proposal will fail.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because London society has spent generations perfecting the detection of false courtships. The matrons, the gossip columnists, the mothers with their calculating eyes. A fabricated attachment would unravel within weeks.”

“Which fabrication did they detect last night?”

She opened her mouth, and closed it quickly again.

“Three hundred people watched me give you my coat,” Oliver said. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The movement brought him closer. She caught the cedar again, faint beneath Lady Hartley’s jasmine. “Three hundred people drew the same conclusion. Not one questioned the sincerity of it. Do you know why?”

“Because you are a convincing performer.”

“Because I was not performing. I saw you standing in a ballroom with lemonade on your gown, looking as though you wished the floor would open beneath you. I helped. The gesture was genuine. The interpretation belonged entirely to them.” He held her gaze. “We would not be constructing a falsehood. We would be allowing London to construct one for us.”

“A fine distinction.”

“A crucial one. There is nothing to unravel if we build nothing false. Two people seen together in public. Society writes its own story. It always has.”

She turned the Madeira glass between her fingers, the wine catching the candlelight. “Frederick would see through it.”

“From what I hear, Frederick has had two years to see through a great many things where you are concerned. He has not managed it yet.”

The accuracy of that pressed against her breastbone. She looked toward the window, where the last of the evening light was draining from the sky above Brook Street.

“You watched us speak last night,” she said quietly. “You saw the whole thing.”

“I did, indeed.”

“How do you know…” She blushed. “I suppose you could see it last night, but you… you said two years and…”

“I happen to know things, Miss Fairchild.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Why do I believe that the statement means you have spoken with a certain friend of mine?”

He laughed softly. “That is neither here nor there. The reality is that I saw you walk across a ballroom toward the man you have admired for two years. I saw you hold a conversation with him while your hands trembled against your glass. That took courage, Miss Fairchild.”

She shook her head and sighed.

“I told him roses were determined.”

His mouth twitched. “I heard.”

“You heard?”

“Sound carries in ballrooms. I was positioned nearby.”

“That is eavesdropping.”

“That is reconnaissance. A distinction that matters.” The smile broke through fully. “For what it is worth, I found it charming.”

“You found it absurd.”

“Charming with undertones of mild absurdity. It was entirely original. Most women would have discussed the weather.”