Page 16 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“I’m afraid not, Your Grace. I am not dancing this evening, but rather tending to my cousin. May I introduce Miss Juliet Walford, daughter of the Viscount of Hutchings?”

The duke only nodded in Juliet’s direction, his eyes still fixed on Frances.

“I don’t understand. You’ve come to a ball, but do not intend to dance?”

“That’s correct. As I said, I am only here to attend to my cousin.”

“Your cousin appears to be in very good health and quite capable of standing unassisted. Does she require some sort of aid?” the duke pressed.

Frances finally turned to look at him, frowning when she saw that his expression was quite sincere.

“I am trying to be polite, Your Grace. I do not wish to dance.”

“With me, you mean.”

“No, with anyone. I am not dancing this evening.”

“Would it not have saved you some trouble to simply remain at home if you did not wish to take part?” he asked, cocking his head slightly as though actually trying to decipher her meaning.

“Oh, good grief. This is not going to end, I’m afraid,” Frances said to Juliet. “You are to stand right here and not move from this spot. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Frances,” Juliet said with a knowing smile. Frances only shook her head in defeat.

“Come on, Your Grace. Let us dance and be done with it.”

With one last warning glance over her shoulder, Frances followed the duke to an open place among the other couples. She caught sight of Agnes as she passed and jerked her head slightlyto communicate her need for someone to watch Juliet. Once Agnes was at her cousin’s side, Frances turned to the duke and curtseyed quickly.

Her hopes for a quick and silent few minutes were dashed almost at once.

“Miss Turner, I was determined to dance with you again so that we might continue our conversation,” the duke began straight away.

“There is no need, Your Grace. We’ve said all there is to say on the topic.”

“But I am still not understanding why you are opposed to marriage.”

“I’m not opposed to the institution,” Frances began, but found that she had nothing else to say that wouldn’t seem insulting.

“Only that you have no wish to marry me,” he continued for her.

“You make it sound very personal, Your Grace, when that is not my intention,” she answered, trying to find the right words.

“Then what is your intention in refusing?”

“Your Grace, must we discuss it? Is it not sufficient that I do not wish to marry you?” she asked, finally looking up at him.

Something shifted from the moment she glanced at him. Where he’d been solid in his expression and unmoving in his countenance, from the moment Frances looked at his deep brown eyes, there was a sudden crack in the stoic façade he wore. It was like watching the snow melt beneath the sun’s rays.

“I don’t understand,” he finally said softly.

Frances tore her eyes from his face and looked around. How could she explain when he seemed to be truly lost at her refusal?

“This is simply not how it’s done,” she finally managed to say. “A man does not propose marriage to a woman he met only hours before and has spoken less than a dozen words to. It is actually somewhat scary that you are so fixated on the topic.”

“But why is that? All through history, marriages have been signed into existence by letters sent across vast lands. People have long married strangers, only to lay eyes on them for the first time at their wedding feasts. Is it so odd that I would see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever encountered, ask her to dance, find that she is well-spoken and caring, then seek to marry her?”

Frances tried to stammer an answer, but she soon found that her words were evading her.

“Still, it is improper to propose marriage the way you did,” she finally managed to say. “I was quite frightened by you, in fact.”

---