Page 47 of Nothing Compares to the Duke
“Bella, please wait.”
It was thepleasethat made her stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn to face him. She took in deep gulps of air, willing her pulse to steady and her anger to subside. When he was close enough for her to hear the sound of his footsteps sweeping through the tall grass, she turned her head.
He was striding toward her, his blond hair tousled by the breeze and his black greatcoat billowing out behind him. As usual, he’d dispensed with his cravat and his shirt lay open at his throat, revealing the muscles of his neck and a dusting of darker hair at the base of his throat. He marched toward her with such determination it made her take a step back in retreat.
“I thought you’d decided against myscheme,” Bella called when he was close enough she didn’t need to shout.
“I think we should settle this the way we used to.” Barely slowing his stride, he reached down and plucked one of the wild daisies dancing among the field grass. “I have a decider at the ready, as you see.”
What she could see was how his embroidered dove gray waistcoat hugged his broad chest so tightly the fabric strained against the buttons’ hold.
She tried not to stare at his chest, but it was nearly impossible to meet his gaze. Her emotions tipped and tumbled inside her. Perhaps he’d changed his mind. A sweet ribbon of relief started at her throat and ran all the way down to her toes.
But she was afraid to trust any of it. “You’ll tell my parents we wish to marry?”
“We’ll soon find out,” he said as he stopped an arm’s length away from her. He was breathing hard. The chill in the air had brought blood to his cheeks, a glint to his eyes. Sunlight lit them with a vibrant glow. “You first,” he told her, lifting the daisy between them.
“We’re not children anymore.” And she couldn’t risk her future and her parents’ choices on the whimsy of a flower.
“All right, I’ll go first.” He plucked one petal.
Bella sighed and yanked another free.
He smiled as if she’d just offered him a compliment and pulled a second time. She did too. They continued on until only a single petal remained. One for her to pluck.
When she hesitated, his gaze grew serious. “Looks as if I’ll be telling your parents I wish to marry you.”
His agreement was precisely what she wanted to hear. Yet for the first time in all this scheming a warning bell sounded in her mind.
Perhaps she wanted this too much.
“That look of worry tells me you understand the pitfalls of this arrangement.”
“Pitfalls?” Bella swallowed hard. She very much doubted he understood what she was thinking.
“We must make others believe we’re sincere and yet we ourselves must not become...” He looked at her as if he expected her to finish the sentence for him, as they’d often done in the past. When she didn’t, he added, “Entangled.”
“Entangled?”
He chuckled. “The first rule is that you mustn’t simply repeat every final word I say as a question.”
Bella crossed her arms. “And the second rule?”
“We probably shouldn’t do this in front of others.” He waved a hand between them. “Bickering.”
“We’re discussing.” In tight irritated tones, she had to admit. “Not arguing.”
“Let’s do it in private from now on. Nothing travels faster than gossip, and we wish those observing to believe we are enamored and in accord.”
“Is there a third rule?”
He looked at her so long she wondered if he’d forgotten the question, then finally said, “You shouldn’t defend me.”
“Will there be a need?” Had the man been called out by some angry husband in London?
“Bella,” he said slowly, carefully, “I haven’t been a good man of late, and when the talkative ladies ofLondon society hear that I’m to wed a very upright young lady . . . There will be talk. You will likely learn more about me than you ever wished to.” He swallowed as if there were something bitter on his tongue. “I don’t want you to become caught up in that when we’re among London society. So let them say what they will and never mind any of it.”
“You needn’t worry about me.”
