Page 23 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
“Excellent,” he said.
They stood there for a too-long moment, staring at each other.
Jo swallowed hard. “I suppose we should get back to the questions.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to get it over with. I have an appointment on the Thames this afternoon.”
“An appointment on the Thames?”
“Yes,” he said shortly, and took his seat, clearly having no desire to explain what he’d meant.
She strode around the desk and retook her seat. “All right, Your Grace. I’m going to ask you the question that’s the first one I usually ask my clients. Though in our case, it’s probably the fourth or fifth question.”
“Or the hundred and fifth,” he muttered. “Are you certain I haven’t already answered it?” He gestured to the paper she’d left on her desk.
“You haven’t.”
“I find that difficult to believe.”
She sighed. “The question is, who was your favorite person in the world when you were a boy?”
“How does that have anything to do with finding me a bride?”
“It has everything to do with it. It tells me about the kind of person you are, the kind of people you admire, and the kind of woman to whom you might be attracted.”
He opened his mouth. Shut it. Stared at her. Then shrugged and said, “Well, it wasn’t just one person; it was two. My parents, of course.”
That startled her and made warmth flush through her at the same time. She always loved it when people responded that their parents were their favorite people. It would have been her answer, too, if anyone ever asked it of her. When she was young, Jo’s parents had been her world. The three of them had been a unit, loving and caring for each other through thick and thin.
Some clients responded with either their mother or their father, which implied they were close to one parent and not the other. Others gave answers such as a sibling, governess, grandparent, or friend. Each answer led to more questions that ultimately showed something of their character and characteristics of others that appealed to them.
But when clients answered that their parents were their favorite people, it meant something different. It meant that family was important to them. It meant that they would most likely be excellent parents themselves.
From an aloof man like the duke, she’d expect him to say a close friend or a young uncle, perhaps his nurse. He’d surprised her.
“Why is that?” she asked him.
He frowned. “Because they were my parents.”
Ah, here it was. They were clearly back to the “give the matchmaker the most obvious answer then treat her like she’s an imbecile” part of the program.
“What about them did you love?”
Grief washed through his eyes, but then it was gone as soon as it had arrived, leaving his face strangely expressionless. A corresponding empathy clenched Jo’s chest. She’d known his father was gone, because he was the duke, but she hadn’t known about his mother.
“They were good parents. Both of them. They…” He swallowed hard and looked down at his lap. “They loved each other—and me—deeply. I was their only child. They took me everywhere with them. The three of us were quite close.”
Just like her own family.
“What happened to them?” she asked softly.
“They were in a curricle at night,” he said. “My father loved his curricle, and he loved driving my mother all over the countryside. When I was at home, the three of us would bundle up and go on evening drives throughout the county. But that night, I was away at school. There had been a bit of a drought across the midlands, and it decided to rain for the first time in months. The heavens opened up over them, and as they rushed home, a flash flood broke their axle and swept them off the road. They…” He closed his eyes. “They died together, at least. They would have wanted that.”
This was another surprise. The Duke of Crestmont was not looking for a love match, and yet it was clear his own parents had had one. What had soured him to the idea? Could it have been Fanny Fleming?
“How old were you when they passed away?” she asked.
“Seventeen.”
