Page 58 of Libby's London Merchant
“Oh, no! Suppose he should decide to make you his own dollymop? I shall never introduce you to the prince,” he said firmly. “Come to think of it, I shall never introduce you to anyone, my darling. You’re much too tender a morsel, and some other friend of mine will think you are his for the taking. No, we will be together whenever we can, just you and I.”
A guarded look came into her eyes, less trusting, more wary. He ignored it and hurried on, pleased with his success. “I shall go to London with Eustace and Lydia and make all the arrangements with my lawyer. You will be well provided for, Libby, and never have a moment’s regret.”
There was a long pause as Libby looked deep into his eyes. As he watched in growing discomfort, the color sailed away from her cheeks, leaving them the dead white of circus clowns. She took her hands off his shoulders.
“Why should I have any cause to regret, Nez?” she asked quietly.
The tone of her voice should have warned him. There was something in it of curious great control, even as a muscle began to twitch below her eyes. She looked at him steadily and he stared back in fascination at the little tic.
He looked away first. “Libby, sometimes these arrangements can be awkward,” he said, as he reached for her hands again.
She put them behind her back. “What ‘arrangements’ are you referring to?” When he did not answer, she got off the desk, still not taking her eyes from his face. “What arrangements, Nez?” she asked again, her voice soft.
He knew she was a girl of great good humor, so he laughed and flicked her cheek with his finger.
“Libby, my love, surely you never thought I meant to marry you?”
13
I absolutely refuse to faint, Libby thought as she stared at the duke. She ignored the little flickers of light around her eyes and the drumming in her ears and clutched at the desk to keep her balance in a world suddenly upside down.
“The notion of marriage had crossed my mind, Nez,” she said when he seemed disposed to make no further comment. “I rather thought that was what we were referring to last night.” She wanted to say more, to scream at him and cry and stamp her feet and dig at his face with her fingernails, but she struggled against the tears that spilled down her cheeks anyway.
He took her by the shoulders. “Libby, you didn’t seriously think that a duke would ever marry the granddaughter of a tobacco merchant? And wasn’t there some scandal about your father’s disinheritance? Good God, Libby, be reasonable.”
She felt as though she stood miles away from him and that she listened to his voice from the top of some distant mountain. “I assumed you were already aware of all that when we spoke last night,” Libby said.
He shook his head and made no move to touch her again when she brushed off his hands. “My dear girl, I thought you were Lydia, and then I thought that... Well, I never imagined that you weren’t... well, you know, Libby, eligible.” He shrugged. “I suppose we both assumed too much,” he concluded.
“Or not enough, my lord,” she said.
“Libby, be reasonable! You know I can’t possibly marry you.”
She did know. She shook her head when he offered her his handkerchief, and she wiped her eyes on her sleeve instead, wishing he would go away and close the door behind him. Incredibly, he was still speaking to her, his voice soothing as though he addressed a cranky child that must be brought to reason.
“What do you say, Libby? I love you. Only think how well we will suit. Any real marriage I make will only be one of convenience. You, I love.”
His words seemed to roar in her ears and she sobbed out loud. It gave her no pleasure to see the helplessness creep into his eyes. He is only upset because I am crying, she thought. He has no idea of the insult he has heaped upon me, as if it were a favor.
Libby took a deep breath and held out her hand to him. “Your grace,” she began, her voice seeming loud so she could hear herself over the roaring in her ears. “I am deeply appreciative of the great condescension of your offer, but I am equally certain that we would never suit. Do not let me detain you a moment longer. ”
“Libby, don’t be a fool,” he said quietly.
“In future, I shall try not to be,” she said. “I’ve learned such an excellent lesson and can only be grateful to you for that, I suppose. Good day, your grace.”
He stepped back as she swept from the room, her face set, her eyes straight ahead.
Joseph stood before her in the hall. He looked on in silence as the duke left the book room and stalked down the hall without even a glance of recognition in his direction. He turned back to his sister, openmouthed.
“I—I didn’t mean to listen. Libby, did you turn down his proposal?” he asked, his voice filled with amazement.
She nodded, afraid to trust herself with words.
Joseph leaned against the wall as though he could not hold himself upright anymore. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?” he asked at last.
Libby flinched. “Oh, no, Joseph, never that!”
“I disgust him, don’t I, and he doesn’t want me in London. Libby, I am so sorry.”
