Page 20 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
“And yet…all had full heads of hair, and were…” She looked down at the paper. “…shorter than you, younger than you, well-dressed, in possession of figures deemed acceptable by society, polite—”
“I disagree,” Matthew interrupted. “They were notallpolite. The first two were. The third was…” He trailed off because the lady hadn’t exactly beenimpolite. He’d just found her insufferable.
Miss Porter raised her brows. “She was what?”
“She…” He frowned, trying to put it into words. Words more polite thanshe was a parasitic leech. “She seemed to be more interested in my phaeton than in me,” he finally managed. “I found that quite rude.”
Miss Porter’s brows climbed higher. “Thatisrather rude. I don’t blame you for thinking so. Though I daresay some gentlemen would be quite pleased by a lady’s interest in their phaeton.”
“Not me.”
She tapped the top of her pen on her desk. “What about the other two? The first and second?”
“The second was quite shy.”
“Ah,” Miss Porter said. “I understand immediately. Not an acceptable conversationalist for your house parties?”
“Exactly.”
“And the first? The one who wore the diamonds?”
“She was…obsequious.”
“Oh? I thought you were looking for someone just like that.”
He scowled. What kind of man did she think he was? “What gave you that idea?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then shrugged. “Well, I suppose it was your general demeanor on the occasions we previously met. So, allow me to clarify—are you saying you desire a woman who considers herself your equal?”
“Equal? Of course not. Men and women aren’t equal.”
“Oh?” she said drily. “Really?”
“Generally speaking, no. Women are smaller, have less muscle mass and body hair—”
“I didn’t mean your physical equal, Your Grace.”
“Then…my equal in status? I assure you, I’ve put some thought into this, but in the end, I believe limiting my search to a duke’s daughter would be far too limiting. I’d prefer a peer’s daughter, of course, but I might be convinced to marry a gentleman’s daughter if said gentleman is sufficiently well connected and has a verifiable pedigree.”
She smiled at him, shaking her head. “There you go again, Your Grace, falling into the old pattern.”
“What pattern is that?”
“The one where men approach looking for a bride as if they’re planning to purchase a broodmare.”
He’d never heard that one before, but he shrugged. “You must admit, there are some similarities.” He ticked the items off on his fingers. “Pedigree is important in a wife and in a broodmare. So is fertility. There’s also the cost to consider, whether she is comely and malleable—”
Miss Porter coughed. “The similarities are thin indeed. Cost should be the least of your concerns. You are rich as Croesus and needn’t worry yourself with such trivial matters.”
She said the last somewhat bitterly, but she was correct. He didn’t care what his wife brought to the table in terms of a dowry or income, and if she came to him as a daughter of an impoverished aristocratic family—such families seemed to be on the rise in numbers of late—of course he’d assist them in regaining their financial footing.
Miss Porter continued. “Fertility, alas, is difficult to determine unless you’re perhaps searching for a widow already in possession of a brood of children?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be averse to it”—though the thought of a brood of children who weren’t his own, or evenwerehis own, terrified him—“but I’m not searching for it purposely.”
“Comely is subjective,” she continued, “and I daresay you aren’t overly concerned with it either, as”—she gestured to the sheet of paper he’d given her—“you wrote ‘beauty is unimportant,’ on your list here.”
Shewas rather beautiful, he thought, sitting there across from him and knocking down his comparisons one by one. But once again, she was right. He wanted a perfect duchess with a flawless pedigree who presented herself properly and was above reproach. He’d seen many a woman do so without possessing much in terms of beauty. Also, what did his personal preferences matter, in the end? He and his future wife weren’t meant to love each other, or even to be passionate for each other. They were meant to serve each other’s purposes.
