Page 76 of Dukes for Dessert

As usual, Mrs. Langton wore a bright smile and seemed to be on the verge of laughter. If he had to describe her, he’d say she was perpetually delighted. He found it vastly irritating, but also intriguing. He ought to pay closer attention to Lady Marina. She wasn’t irritating—or delighted—at all. She was reserved and reticent, the perfect companion for him. She wouldn’t provoke him to smile, or nearly so, or hurl compliments at him.

Nevertheless, he found himself wanting to know more about Mrs. Langton. How had she come to be an extraordinary companion who dressed as if she managed Society with one hand? She radiated confidence and charm. She was the kind of woman a normal duke—one who cared about appearances and social dominance—would want. Except she was a paid companion.

Why in the hell was he still thinking about her?

Dare refocused his attention on his potential bride. He was so intent that he failed to notice his hostess had approached him.

“Duke, may I show you to your blanket?” she asked with a bothersome smile. But then, were there any other kind? He supposed genuine ones were all right. Problem was, there were really so few of them. “I’ve seated you with Lady Marina.”

Of course she had. He almost asked if everyone in attendance, including the retainers, was part of the matchmaking, but held his tongue. Perhaps he didn’t need to say everything he was thinking, even if he did think it was helpful to be perfectly candid.

He simply said, “Thank you” and allowed Lady Cosford to lead him to the blanket where Lady Marina and her entourage were already taking their seats on artfully arranged pillows.

Frowning at his pillow, Dare moved it out of the way so he could sit beside Lady Marina. Mrs. Langton was situated behind them, while Lady Wetherby was on the other side of her daughter. Good. Hopefully she wouldn’t try to speak to Dare around Lady Marina. He’d already decided she was a pain in the arse.

Another couple joined their blanket, and Dare didn’t bother to remember who they were. He was here to find a wife, not make social connections.

“Good afternoon,” he said, initiating conversation with Lady Marina.

She barely met his gaze. “Good afternoon.”

Did she make eye contact with anyone besides her mother and Mrs. Langton? Dare didn’t think so, but perhaps he wasn’t paying close enough attention. It was too bad she had such a distracting companion. She would do far better with a doddering aunt who wore lace mobcaps and fell asleep in her sherry. Someone who wasn’t pretty or engaging. Or whose touch caused an alarming sense of…oh hell.

He almost asked Lady Marina about the butterfly book, but then he’d have to explain how he knew of its existence. Which meant he’d have to reveal that he’d met Mrs. Langton in the library last night. And what would be wrong with that? It hadn’t been scandalous.

Why did it feel that way, then?

“I enjoy being outdoors,” he said, disrupting the troubling direction of his thoughts. “Do you?”

“I suppose. I enjoy quiet.”

“You’d prefer if you were alone on this blanket.”

Her gaze shot to his, but only briefly. “Perhaps.” She’d hesitated as if she’d wanted to say yes, but decided it wasn’t right.

“Alone on this blanket and without all the other blankets, I’d wager. If I were a betting man, which I most certainly am not.” He didn’t like things that were unexpected or left to chance. All his investments were conservative and sound, and he didn’t so much as enter a gaming room.

He thought she might respond, and when she did not, he fell into silence. He wasn’t going to work overly hard to engage her. Why should he if they were both comfortable with mutual quietude?

As beverages were distributed, Dare nearly spilled his wine when Mrs. Langton leaned closer behind him. “You should ask her to promenade,” she whispered. “She’s shy, but if it’s the two of you alone, she will relax. Then you can become better acquainted.”

A shiver dashed across the back of Dare’s neck. Mrs. Langton’s fruity, floral scent overtook his senses. He took a fortifying drink of wine.

He didn’t particularly want to promenade with Lady Marina, but he supposed he must. If she was to be his wife, they had to get to know one another. It wasn’t as if they’d live their life in silence. Could they?

Turning his head, he asked Lady Marina if she cared to promenade. A footman took his wineglass.

Lady Marina looked toward her mother, who in turn glanced at Mrs. Langton. “Take Juno with you,” Lady Wetherby said.

Juno. Had she been named after the goddess?

Dare helped Lady Marina to her feet, then pivoted to perform the same service for her companion. Mrs. Langton’s sage eyes met his, and he knew she wasn’t being purposely provocative, but damn if he didn’t want to dive right into their green depths.

Frowning, he turned his back to her and offered Lady Marina his arm. They strolled from the blanket toward the lake. He felt unsettled, agitated. Because of the goddess.

He forced his attention to being in his favorite place: outside. It was a fine October day—the morning had been cool and damp, and this afternoon was warm and bright. The trees were not yet at their peak colors, but already they flashed gold and orange. Inhaling deeply, Dare got a nose full of Mrs. Langton’s distinctive, delicious fragrance. He scowled.

Lady Marina broke the silence, but Dare hadn’t been paying attention. “Pardon?” he barked.

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