Page 9 of Duke of Myste
“Regardless of the specific terminology,” he continued, “we find ourselves in a situation that demands resolution. Society expects certain consequences to follow last night’s … incident.”
“Society expects a great many things, Your Grace,” Jane replied. “I have never found that a compelling reason to comply with its demands.”
The Duke leaned forward slightly, his gaze darkening in a way that made her breath catch in her throat. “And yet you chose to put yourself in this position,” he noted. “You substituted yourself for your sister, knowing full well what consequences might follow.”
The observation—accurate though it was—stung more than Jane had anticipated.
“I did what was necessary to protect Diana,” She replied, her voice cooling. “Her temperament is ill-suited to weathering a scandal of this magnitude.”
“While yours is more… resilient?”
“I have never particularly valued the ton’s opinion.”
The Duke studied her for a long moment, his expression contemplative. “A luxury few can afford, Miss Brandon.”
“Not a luxury, Your Grace, but a choice.”
Something changed in his gaze then—a shift in his assessment, as though he were seeing her in a slightly different light.
“A choice that has led us to this moment,” he acknowledged. Then, with a deliberateness that seemed to alter the very air between them, he continued, “I have come to ask for your hand in marriage, Miss Brandon.”
Though she had been expecting those words since the grand reveal, hearing them spoken aloud in the Duke’s deep, measured voice affected Jane more powerfully than she had anticipated. She found herself momentarily speechless, her carefully prepared response suddenly deserting her.
In the silence, he said, “I understand this is not an arrangement either of us would have chosen under ordinary circumstances. However, I believe we might forge a union of mutual respect and compatible interests, despite our… philosophical differences.”
Jane found her voice at last, though it emerged softer than she had intended. “You speak of marriage as though it is but a simple business merger, Your Grace.”
“Is it not?” he countered, arching an eyebrow. “A combining of assets, abilities, and connections for mutual benefit and advancement?”
“You paint such a romantic picture,” Jane offered, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice, “I wonder how young ladies across London are not swooning at your feet.”
Again, that fleeting hint of something that might have been amusement crossed his features. “I have never claimed eloquence in matters of the heart, Miss Brandon. I offer honesty instead—a quality I believe you value, based on your limited acquaintance.”
Jane could hardly dispute his assessment. She had, indeed, always valued straightforward speech over pretty falsehoods. Yet, something in her rebelled against the clinical detachment with which the Duke approached their potential union.
“I appreciate your candor,” she acknowledged. “Though I find myself curious about what precisely you envision this ‘union of mutual respect’ to entail.”
His hazel eyes remained steady on hers. “I would expect fidelity, of course, and appropriate behavior in public. In private, I believe in allowing a certain latitude for individual pursuits andinterests, provided they do not compromise the dignity of our respective positions.”
“How generous,” Jane murmured, though without the bite she had intended. “And what of affection, Your Grace? Does that factor into your calculations at all?”
Something flickered in his eyes—a brief vulnerability quickly masked. “Affection often develops with time and shared experience, Miss Brandon. I see no reason why we should prove an exception to this pattern.”
The response was reasonable—logical, even—and yet Jane found herself strangely disappointed by its pragmatism. “I see.”
“Do you?” he asked, studying her with renewed intensity. “You seem… dissatisfied with my answer.”
Jane hesitated, aware of her mother’s presence at the window, aware of the expectations pressing down on her shoulders.
This was not how she had imagined her future unfolding—tied to a man whose principles seemed antithetical to her own, whose approach to life appeared governed by duty, rather than passion.
And yet there had been those brief moments when something else had shown through the Duke’s carefully maintained façade—flashes of dry humor, of genuine engagement with her arguments rather than dismissal of them.
Perhaps beneath the rigid exterior he presented to Society, there was a man capable of growth, of change… and even of affection.
CHAPTER 4
“Iam not dissatisfied,” she replied finally. “Merely… contemplative. Your offer is both honorable and practical, as I would expect from a man of your reputation. However…” she paused, gathering her courage. “I cannot accept it at this moment.”
