That woman had been seeking her own pleasure.
The idea had never quite occurred to Ariadne before.
So even though she reallyshouldask him to introduce her to Lady Thistlewaite, who threwthemost exclusive soirees or to his nicest cousin, the exceedingly amiable and harmless one who was seeking a bride…
Even though she should have asked for that, she didn’t want to.
And if that wasn’t enough, there was something in the easy, patient way the duke was letting her think things through that appealed to her. He had come to her, made his case, and offered what he was willing to offer.
Then, he waited for her to decide, without pressuring her.
“Your Grace!”
The call from near the back of the house was for Helen, but Ariadne and the duke turned as well. It was one of Cornelia’s nurses, holding the little girl herself. The nurse was a sweet older woman who had experience with numerous children—Xander never would have hired anyone less than the best—and normally Cornelia adored the woman.
Right now, however, Cornelia was trying to squirm out of the nurse’s arms as violently as any fish trying to get off the fisherman’s hook.
“Mama!” she cried, thrusting her small arms out toward Helen. “Mama,pease!”
Helen grimaced at Ariadne, then swiveled back toward her daughter.
“Go,” Ariadne called to Helen. “I’ll be fine.”
Was she mistaken, or did the duke look a little pleased at that? Not in a way that made Ariadne feel alarmed, either. More like the idea of being someone safe was…validating to him.
But that couldn’t be it. He was too notorious for that.
Though hehadbeen offended when she’d thought him a blackmailer.
He was curious indeed, this Duke of Wilds.
“That child is…noisy,” he observed when Helen hurried off. The instant Cornelia was in her mother’s arms, the wailing cut off as though it had never happened.
“That is my beloved niece,” Ariadne commented mildly as Helen, her daughter, and the nurse all retreated indoors.
“I didn’t say noisy was bad,” the duke retorted. “It’s clear she hasn’t any issue with her lungs. What a charming sign of good health.”
She gave him a skeptical look, and he shrugged innocently. She hated how much she wanted to laugh.
They made it a few paces further before Ariadne spun on her heel so she was facing him squarely.
“I need to think,” she said. “About your offer.”
“Of course. Let me know what you decide.”
He said it without hesitation, like it cost him nothing. And, indeed, his actions supported this ease. He stepped back immediately, offered her a bow, and then turned to leave.
“Wait!”
Inwardly, Ariadne cursed herself. Was there some sort of cosmic equation that meant that she always had to balance the scales on the side of foolishness when it came to the Duke of Wilds? She had sensibly asked for some time to consider his offer, so she had to go and ruin it by notletting him leave?
He really gave her time to stew in her foolishness, too, turning around slowly to reveal the mischievous grin that was pasted across his face.
“Yes, my lady?” he asked.
The man put the devil in her. That was the only explanation for it. He was clearly infected with some kind of imp or small demon, the kind the crotchetiest, oldest vicars railed about on Sunday sermons. She should have paid better attention. Then she might know what to do about it.
But she’d never been an unduly diligent churchgoer, so she just lifted her chin in defiance.