Page 16 of Duke of Myste
“Yet you would enter such an arrangement willingly?”
“Willingly?” she scoffed, incredulity coloring her tone. “Need I remind you that our situation arose from necessity rather than choice? That Society’s perception of women’s reputation has forced this path upon us both?”
A flash of genuine emotion—something beyond his usual controlled irritation—crossed Richard’s features. “Indeed, Miss Brandon. A circumstance neither of us would have chosen, yet one we must now navigate with at least theappearanceof good faith.”
The reminder of their shared predicament—both trapped by societal expectation neither had designed nor endorsed—momentarily deflated Jane’s righteous indignation.
She drew a deep, steadying breath, conscious of several passing couples whose casual pace had slowed as they approached,clearly hoping to overhear something worth repeating tomorrow in London’s drawing rooms.
“Perhaps we should resume our walk,” she suggested, her voice deliberately steadier.
Richard glanced toward the lingering observers, his expression returning to its customary mask of aristocratic indifference. “Indeed. Our attempt at feigning harmonious courtship seems doomed to failure at present.”
They resumed their path, neither speaking for several moments as they struggled to recapture the appearance of pleasant conversation. Jane was acutely aware of how their brief argument must have appeared to observers—her face flushed with emotion, Richard’s posture rigid with restraint, both clearly engaged in a discussion far more heated than proper courtship allowed.
“I believe we’ve failed rather spectacularly at our assigned task,” Jane noted, her tone colored with reluctant humor rather than anger.
Richard glanced down at her, surprise evident in his expression before he masked it. “Our talents apparently do not include convincing displays of affection.”
“Hardly surprising, given our limited acquaintance and fundamental disagreements,” Jane replied, finding it oddly easier to speak plainly about their situation now that they had both acknowledged the absurdity of their position.
“Perhaps expecting immediate harmony was unrealistic,” Richard acknowledged, his voice softening slightly. “Neither of us is particularly practiced in pretense.”
This unexpected point of agreement—their shared distaste for social falsity—struck Jane as ironically significant. For two people who disagreed on virtually every substantive issue, they shared a fundamental honesty that made their charade particularly challenging.
“We might consider a different approach,” she suggested as they rounded the ornamental lake, where several swans glided with effortless grace—a stark contrast to their own awkward navigation. “Rather than attempting tosuppressour natural discord, perhaps we might channel it into something Society would find… acceptable.”
Richard arched an eyebrow in query. “I am not certain I follow your reasoning.”
“Lively debate can appear quite similar to flirtation from a distance,” Jane explained, warming up to the idea. “Particularly if accompanied by… appropriate facial expressions and gestures. The ton already expects eccentricity from me. Spirited engagement with my betrothed would scarcely raise eyebrows if properly framed.”
Richard considered this suggestion with surprising seriousness, his pace slowing as he weighed its merits.
“An unconventional approach,” he acknowledged finally. “Though perhaps better suited to our temperaments than artificial agreement.”
“Precisely.” Jane nodded, feeling unreasonably pleased that he had grasped her meaning so quickly. “We need not pretend to agree—merely to enjoy our disagreement.”
For a moment—brief but undeniable—genuine assessment transformed Richard’s stern features, creating a startling impression of what he might look like if truly relaxed in her company. It made her breath hitch in her throat.
“A novel interpretation of courtship harmony, Miss Brandon.”
“Innovation often arises from necessity, Your Grace,” Jane replied, finding herself smiling despite her earlier irritation. “And our situation is nothing if not novel.”
As if to test this new approach, Richard deliberately broached a topic on which they had previously clashed.
“Surely you don’t maintain that Greek and Latin are necessary components of a young lady’s education, Miss Brandon?” he asked, his voice loud enough to be overheard.
“I would argue, Your Grace,” Jane replied with animated gestures, “that any mind capable of mastering such disciplines should not be denied the opportunity simply due to the unfortunate circumstance of being born female.”
“But at what cost to more practical accomplishments?” Richard countered, leaning forward with exaggerated attention. “Would you have young ladies neglect music and artistic pursuits for dusty translations?”
“Not neglect, butchoose,” Jane emphasized with a smile that belied the spirited nature of their debate. “After all, a well-trained mind makes for far more stimulating conversation than merely accomplished fingers on a pianoforte.”
The exchange drew knowing smiles from passing acquaintances, and Jane found herself genuinely enjoying their performance, particularly when Richard’s eyes betrayed flashes of genuine wit beneath his usual gravity.
“I believe,” Richard observed as they completed their circuit of the park, “that our experiment is succeeding.” He nodded toward several onlookers whose expressions had transformed from scandalized curiosity to something closer to amused approval. “Though I maintain strong reservations about your position on female scholarship.”
“I expected nothing less,” Jane replied with humor. “Your objections, while entirely misguided, at least demonstrate consistency.”
