Page 5 of Her Bear of a Duke

"Why do you sigh?" he asked.

"Because I am running out of hope," she replied, laughing emptily. "I have never been able to decide anything for myself, and now my life is to be over before it has truly begun."

"Why is that?"

"Because my father hates me."

She did not want to tell him the truth of the matter, but that was the crux of it.

"And that is why you are out here?"

"Yes, I– I needed a moment to myself."

"And I am intruding on that. Is that it?"

"Yes. No. Oh, I do not know. I do not know anything. I have never been any good at thinking. That is probably why nobody has ever let me. I simply wish that I could have done something with my life. Do you know what I mean? Of course you do not. You are a man."

"I understand more than you might think, Miss."

She looked at him, studying his frame once more. He stood tall, no trace of anything such as fear or nerves. If she had to guess, she would have said that he had been given anything he wanted all his life, and nobody had ever dared refuse him. She knew as much, because she knew that if he wanted something from her she would not have questioned it.

"You do not understand what it is to be a young lady that will soon be married to a man you do not know. You do not know what it means to be going from one prison to another, destined to never be good enough."

"Do you truly believe you are not good enough? Has your betrothed said that?"

"No, but he will. I am yet to meet him, and I already know that he will hate me. I am not pretty, or interesting, or the perfect lady. He will loathe me entirely, and the blame is entirely mine for that."

He took another step toward her, and gently raised his hand to her face so her mask was between his finger and thumb.

"That is a pretty ring on your finger," he commented.

"Yes, it is beautiful. He must be a very wealthy man, with extraordinary expectations that I shall never meet."

"Perhaps you should let him be the judge of that?"

"I already know."

He chuckled, raising her mask slightly from her face. His cool fingertips brushed her warm cheek and sent a strange feeling to her chest. His eyes met hers, a startling shade of pale green, and suddenly her breath became staggered.

"If you could do anything," he asked, stopping where he was, "what would you do?"

"I- I would… I would very much like to learn about botany."

It was a foolish thing to say, and she felt quite ridiculous for having said it. She could have said something wild, and interesting, but she had simply talked about plants again.

"I studied botany," he replied quietly.

She froze in place. She wondered if he was toying with her, as it was not possible that she had been so fortunate as to meet someone who cared about plants as much as she did.

"At a university?"

"Indeed. My father was furious, but it hardly mattered. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I learned a lot."

"I could only dream of that. You are very fortunate."

"I suppose I am, yes. I suspect your husband will be willing to find books for you, though. You can learn that way, though it is no comparison to having a tutor and the rest of it."

"I certainly hope so."

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