Page 24 of Foolish Bride
“I believe that would be out of character for you.” His voice grew soft and intimate.
Her all-too-familiar anger returned. “You know nothing about me, your grace. Two dances and you think you know something of my character. That is the most arrogant thing I have ever heard.”
Taking a breath, he tugged on his waistcoat, then let out a long sigh. “Forgive me. You are correct, of course. I do not know you. But I do like you, Lady Elinor. That much I can tell in the first moments after meeting a person. I wish to get to know you better, and I hope you will honor me by telling me what troubles you.”
It was impossible. Liking anyone wasn’t in her plan, and she was tired of letting men or her parents run her life. They had made a mess of it so far. “I am in love with Sir Michael Rollins. I cannot like you or anyone else.”
He nodded. “I see.”
“Do you, or do you just think I am a silly girl with childish ideas about love and marriage?” Her voice was more accusatorial than she would have liked. She tried so hard to be sophisticated, when all she really wanted was to cry until no more tears would come, then cry some more.
“Let’s sit for a moment, shall we?” He led her to a long bench. “I do not think that love is either silly or childish. I am certain you have been deeply hurt, and those types of wounds take time to heal. I can only ask your forgiveness if you have felt that I was dismissing your feelings for Sir Michael.”
She stood, walked a step away, and slapped the stone wall enclosing the veranda. “Oh, why do you have to be so nice?”
Standing, he followed but didn’t crowd. “I feel like I should apologize again, but that seems redundant at this time.”
Damn, but he was funny, too. She turned toward him. “Your grace, thank you for a lovely evening. You have made this ball tolerable when it should have been excruciating, and for that, I am grateful. Good evening.”
He kissed her gloved hand and bowed deeply. “Good evening, Lady Elinor.”
She curtsied and walked back into the ballroom, where she found Mother and Father, and demanded to go home.
An hour later, Elinor was safely ensconced in her bedroom, waiting for the torrent of tears to come. But by some miracle, they did not. Pulling out her notebook, she went over the evening.
A nice visit with Dory
Anger over Michael
Mother’s terrible behavior
Meeting the Charming Duke of Middleton
Accepting she still loved Michael
Not one single tear
She didn’t love Preston Knowles, The Duke of Middleton, but to her surprise, she liked him. It would delight her mother and father if she became a duchess. Being married to a man with whom she could laugh wasn’t such a bad future.
He was not Michael.
Chapter 5
Michael stepped into James Hardwig’s new office. It was quite a step up from the one he’d occupied as a detective. His new title of inspector gave him prestige. His promotion was in no small part due to his quick action a year earlier when Daniel Fallon, the Earl of Marlton, had been kidnapped. Hardwig’s assistance made it possible to rescue Daniel and capture his assailant.
Naturally Daniel had spoken favorably to people within politics, so much so that the director himself had offered Hardwig the position of inspector. It was a huge leap up.
“Sir Michael.” Hardwig rushed across the office and shook his hand. “Thank you for accepting my invitation. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have another opportunity to meet with you.”
He liked the man well enough, but people who thought his actions during the war made him special and worthy of worship always made him uncomfortable. “Thank you, Inspector. The pleasure is mine.”
“When the director told me, I was persistent about being the one to tell you. He was stubborn, but as you can see, I won out.” He rubbed his pot belly.
Michael had no clue what Harwig was on about, and the man just sat there staring at him with a ridiculously pleased look on his chubby face.
Finally, Michael had no choice but to ask. “And what was it you have the good fortune to tell me, Inspector?”
Sitting up straighter, James pushed back his thinning hair. “Right well.” He picked up a piece of paper and studied it for a moment, then cleared his throat. “The Prince Regent made a promise to you, Sir Michael, which it would be a shame to renege on. You set out on a mission, and you were successful in spite of your injuries. Therefore, it is with great honor that I tell you, you shall be elevated to the rank of Duke of Kerburghe. This is a Scottish title and comes with the English title of Marques of Innis.”
