Page 18 of Secrets of a Duke's Heart
She didn’t really want to explain her reasoning. What if she was wrong? The prospect of losing face with this man, of all possible men, was too horrifying to contemplate.I wouldn’t have told him if he hadn’t surprised me. Again.
“The Prescott family fortunes, as you may not be aware, have been historically precarious. When Nathaniel took over from the previous viscount, his great-great-uncle, he inherited an estate drowning in debts. The traditional way to manage such unfortunate circumstances is to marry an heiress.”
“Yet your cousin remains unmarried.”
“Indeed. I explained earlier that he has restored the family’s fortunes, but I haven’t said how. I don’t wish to get him into trouble, you understand. I trust that you won’t be revealing any secrets to your new friends in the Waterguard.”
“Upon closer acquaintance I find their company rather grating. Leacham’s in particular.”
Clarissa edged away, peering at the shelves. “Was there any progress today?”
“We have narrowed our search down to the stretch of road and sea between Polperro and Falmouth.”
“That isn’t very narrow.”
The hope flickering in his weary eyes dimmed. Guilt ate at her. She hadn’t intended to crush a man who had worked tirelessly to bring home his niece.
“Do you have a map of the area?”
“There is an atlas over…” Clarissa sauntered along the bookshelves, bending to find a large volume on a low shelf and flipping to the page. “Here. This is the area you’ll need to search.”
“At least we know where she was last spotted.”
“How long ago?”
He shrugged tiredly. “Our source wasn’t specific. Last night, I believe.”
“Then your smuggler could be anywhere. A ship can move quickly.”
“But not without being seen by the Waterguard. His Majesty’s boats might not be fast, but they are numerous. Leacham assured me he had enough men to cover the area and connect with boats patrolling the shore. He is determined to capture this smuggler.”
Clarissa studied the map, keenly aware of Montague’s presence. He loomed over her, yet maintained a respectful distance.
“It is possible.” She placed one index finger over the names of each town and slid them toward one another, forming a triangle with her thumbs pointing out to sea. “Might work.”
He raised one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Clarissa flinched and stared at him.
“I…apologize. For the way I spoke to you at the inn. I made it sound like marrying you would be an obligation, not a joy.”
“You don’t know that it would be a joy,” she said quickly. “I am far too accustomed to my independence for marriage. Too sharp-tongued. Downright shrewish, when I am not being pathetic.”
He winced. “I’m sorry I said that. It is unfathomable to me that anyone would want to change you. In any way.”
The flutters in Clarissa’s stomach came swooping back.
“If my proposal was churlish?—”
“It was.”
He chuckled. “I realize that. All my life I have regarded marriage as an unavoidable duty. Harriet’s kidnapping, and then compromising you, brought to the fore feelings about the institution that have nothing to do with you, Clarissa.” His throat worked. He had a very nice throat, muscular and defined. Seeing it without his cravat felt like seeing him naked. “If I may be so bold as to use your forename.”
“You may.” She could hardly breathe. Her tongue darted out to dampen her lips. His eyes darkened as they dropped to her mouth and then slowly dragged back up. She felt that gaze like a touch. “What is your given name, Montague?”
“Jude.”
“I like it.”
“It’s unusual. I have never much liked my name.”
