Page 36 of A Duke Makes a Deal
Chapter Nine
By the endof the month, Silas and Clara were being regaled in the papers as the most popular people in London, much to Clara’s satisfaction and Silas’s displeasure. He loathed gossip, but his little game with Clara to rehabilitate her reputation had worked, it seemed, and he was happy that she was content with the results. Why, just the other morning there had been an article that had practically named them engaged.
Divorced Duke’s Devotion
It has come as a surprise to myself as well as most of my readers that the Duke of Combe, otherwise noted as the divorced duke, should find himself enamoured with none other than heiress and inventor’s daughter, Miss Clara Woodvine. The unlikely pairing, while shocking, has really become something of a treat to witness. It seems the duke has been captivated by this provincial princess, having saved her from a potentially harmful fall down the steps at the opera two nights ago. It seems that while Miss Woodvine’s antics from a month ago should have ended her social climb, her clumsiness has only charmed her would-besuitor.
He would have preferred the article to refrain from calling her clumsy, but it was certainly an improvement over the insults that were showered upon her only a few weeks earlier.
Still, by the time he arrived at Wincombe Terrace that evening for Gavin’s going away dinner, he found that the latest article had seemingly turned on him.
“Well, if it isn’t the divorced duke himself,” Gavin said, smiling as Silas arrived at Wincombe Terrace. He peered over his shoulder. “You’ve not come alone, have you? I’ve been reading all about you and Miss Woodvine and had hoped to finally meet the woman who, how did theTimesput it… Swept you off your feet?”
Silas scowled at his friend, fighting the urge to strangle him. There were going to be no more than fifty people attending the farewell soirée for Gavin that night and while Silas had been sure he would have fared fine without Clara, she had insisted that she attend in order to be there for him in case he needed her, though they had decided not to come together. Clara had begun to worry that their partnership had reached its peak and if they weren’t careful about their inevitable separation, her reputation would be worse off than after her break off with Dilworth.
“The Woodvines will be arriving later,” he grounded out. “And shut your mouth about those damn articles.”
“Why should I? There all anyone’s been talking about,” Gavin replied, waving to Derek from across the room. “I should think you would be happy to receive some good press. Seeing as how your name is so often dragged through the mud.”
“I don’t know why they insist on writing about us,” he grumbled. “A few walks here and there hardly seem news worthy.”
“Ah, well, the subject matter is rather interesting, I’m afraid. Divorced Duke’s Dire Dilemma was the title from today’s paper. It seems the author is worried about your intentions.”
Silas made a face.
“Intentions regarding what?”
“Miss Woodvine, of course. It seems her star is on the rise and there are rumors she may have a slew of other suitors soon enough, if you keep dragging your feet.”
Silas didn’t reply to Gavin as Derek finally reached them. Even though his relationship with Clara was supposed to be a ploy to better both of their reputations, Silas had begun to wonder what it would be like to actually offer for her.
It was ridiculous, he knew, particularly because of how they met, but something had shifted between them during the past few weeks.
A strange sort of friendship had bloomed between he and Clara.
There was a level of ease and comfort between them that Silas had never known with a woman he was supposed to be courting. Clara was patient and helpful—and he couldn’t deny that he was powerfully attracted to her. While their touching one another had started as a distraction to his anxiety, it had become important to him in many different ways. He found a surprising number of excuses to touch her, from escorting her during walks, to brushing a frizzy strand of hair off her face when it became loose. Clara in turn had been just as diligent in her effort to pluck pieces of invisible lint off his jacket. Each brush, each touch seemed heavier—at least, to him. Perhaps he was simply reading too much into it. He had considered broaching the topic once or twice, but when her amicable voice had echoed in his ears, he stopped himself.
Silas had quite forgotten how to approach a woman.
“Continuing to play this game of mock courtship, I see,” Derek asked under his breath, as another couple was announced to the drawing room. “You’re going to ruin that girl, you know.”
As the days in Clara’s company had unfolded, Silas had begun to give his feelings some proper consideration. She was so unlike Cynthia and while he knew she wouldn’t appreciate being compared to his previous wife, Silas couldn’t help but note the difference between the two. Almost to a fault.
“If I am, I don’t see how it’s any concern of yours.”
“Come now, Derek. They’re only having a bit of a lark,” Gavin said as a butler came towards them. Each man took a brandy and Gavin sipped his before continuing. “Silas isn’t serious. And Miss Woodvine is in on it. Isn’t she, Silas?”
“Yes,” he said stiffly.
“I hope so. Because it would be a mistake to create an expectation of serious intentions if you have none,” Derek said.
“So you keep saying,” Silas said, taking a sip of his brandy.
“I just don’t want you to make the same mistake as before,” Derek said. “You went through hell after Cynthia left you.”
Feeling agitated, Silas downed his brandy completely.
“I quite remember, thank you,” he said, placing his glass on the table as he turned to leave.
