Page 37 of Her Duke Next Door
“That is why you feel like you must stay with Lord Yore as well? Because you think you owe him for causing his nephew’s death?”
Mary swallowed, fighting back tears as she nodded.
“Lady Yore, this is not the answer,” he told her. “You cannot live your live with him.”
She sniffed, her sadness turning into frustration. “I have no other way to live.”
“Thereisanother solution.”
His mind whirled with thoughts and suggestions he could make to her. Things that he could say to get her to consider walking away from this choice she thought she had to keep making. Yet they kept coming back to one poignant suggestion.
“I will marry you.”
The words came out before he could think differently, or that perhaps she might walk away from his suggestion. Mary’s head whipped around. She stared at him, her eyes widening, her lips parting.
“Your Grace,” she whispered. Then it seemed that she collected herself, and drew both her hands into her lap, making small fists. He remembered how small her hands had felt in his.
“Your Grace, I—I cannot. We would make a terrible match!”
He fought back a quirk of a smile that that reason would be her only one for protesting. “It would be a marriage of convenience only,” he added quickly, assuring her. And yet something fell in her eyes, something dimmed. “Think about it.”
“I…” she trailed off, averting her gaze.
“My daughter needs a mother, and she speaks of you fondly,” he said. “Eloise needs protection, as do you. And I know your daughter wishes for a papa. Young girls gossip just as much as women of the Ton. My daughter has become depressed in your daughter’s absence and it wounds me to see her so ailed and I cannot do anything about it. She refused to eat or talk to me.”
“My daughter is doing the same,” Mary murmured. “She is furious with me for choosing to take her away but she is not yet old enough to understand.”
“I share her lack of understanding,” Dominique confessed. “Mary, I have provided you with an offer. I would remind you that it is of convenience only.”
Suspicion furrowed her features and pinched Mary’s lips, but he could see that she was considering it. She turned her attention to the house, as if thinking of the man who waited in there for her.
“He is a leech,” Dominique said. “And men like him do not become more appeased with time. They get worse. He will own you, Mary, and hold every asset that you have while married to him over your head. Soon enough, he might try to control your daughter as he will—and has started to—control you. Is that the life you want for her?”
“I wish only for her safety,” Mary whispered.
“Then think about my offer. You do not have to agree this instant but the offer is there. It can benefit you and your daughter. My own daughter, as well.”
He did not include himself in the benefits. He told himself that he merely wished to protect Mary and Eloise.
“I do not know,” she said. “I feel… Confused, Your Grace. We are a poor match.”
“Oh, really?” he teased. “How so?”
“Well—for one, I am dedicated to my child.”
“That is rather outspoken of you to assume I am not,” he answered, not taking offense at the accusation.
“We are both sharp-tongued,” she said. “Our arguments might be terrible.”
“Passionate,” he corrected, with a smirk. She shook her head, unable to help a smile. How easily he got under her skin. “Anything else?”
“I enjoy a man’s attention if he wishes to give it to me,” she said, finally. “I am not a naïve maiden who does not know things.”
“Oh, trust me, Lady Yore, I have garnered that you are a spitfire.”
She blushed. “And lastly, you—we—well, together, we would be the biggest scandal in the Ton. I have my late husband’s death hanging over my head every time I am in London, and you?—”
“What about me?” he drawled.
