Page 10 of Married to the Icy Duke
“If you stay,” he said at last, his voice even and careful, “I will help you.”
She blinked. Now,thatwas unexpected.
“Help me?” she echoed. “Help me with what? More to the point, I think, I must ask what you mean when you saystay. Stay as what?”
The duke held her gaze for a long moment. Then, quite abruptly, he strode over to the fire and settled down on one of the armchairs. Perhaps another gentleman might have crossed one leg over the other and picked at nonexistent lint on the knee—Gabriel might have done such a thing, for example—but the duke’s thighs were entirely too thick and muscled to allow for such a gesture.
In the same thought, she realized with horror that she was thinking of a gentleman’sthighs—the Duke of Arkley, no less!—and hastily readjusted her thoughts.
“Stay aswhat?” she repeated, the last of her patience flitting away.
The duke gestured for her to sit in the opposite seat.
“As my wife, of course.”
There was a beat of silence. Charlottemusthave misheard. That was the only possible explanation.
“I beg your pardon?” she managed faintly.
He shrugged lightly. “I believe your hearing is perfect, Lady Charlotte. You heard me.”
“You are making fun of me.”
“I am not.”
She waved a shaking finger in the air. “Youdareto propose marriage? Tome? Underthesecircumstances? You are mad, sir, quite mad.”
He gave a brittle smile. “You are not the first person nor, I imagine, the last to level such an insult at me. Despite that, I am in fact in full possession of my senses. Now, think it over, Lady Charlotte. Your reputation is in tatters. No decent man will come near you. Sensible women avoid you. All of Society talks of yourfaux pas, including the recent incident in which you pushed Sir Peter into a fountain.”
“I did notmeanto push him into the fountain!”
“And what about hitting him with your parasol?”
She paused. “Well, I did mean to do that. But he deserved it, let me assure you.”
The duke snorted. “I can believe it. But the fact remains that Society is not so forgiving. You seem like an intelligent sort of woman, so I shall be frank with you. I assume you know the situation you are in. After tonight, there’ll be more gossip and more scandal. There’ll be more incidents where you are treated disrespectfully or even roughly by men who call themselves gentlemen, and you will find yourself gossiped about by cruel women who seek to tear you down to raise themselves. Things will not get better. In fact, they’ll only get worse. You understand that, don’t you?”
He paused, and Charlotte swallowed thickly. Was she meant to respond? What did he want from her?
The truth of his words sat in the center of her chest like a stone.
He’s right. Thingswon’tget better. My situation will only improve if I get married, and I am not even sure I want that. I certainly have no opportunities to marry.
No, that wasn’t quite true. If she wasn’t mistaken—and she was not—the Duke of Arkley had just made her an offer of marriage.
“You need to escape the ton,” the duke continued, in that same cool, even tone. “You need to rise above them. Only marriage will give you that power. As for me, I require help to raise my nephew. It is proving more…” he hesitated, just for an instant, “… more challenging than I anticipated.”
Charlotte stared at him, trying in vain to read his face. It was no good—his eyes were cool and composed, his face giving away nothing at all.
“If you require a wife,” she managed at last, “Why me? Why choose a lady who is, as you so nicely pointed out, in possession of a smeared reputation? A duke shouldn’t struggle to find a wife.”
“You and I have a few things in common,” the duke sighed, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. “We both have dubious reputations. But that is not relevant here. I askyoutobe my bride, Lady Charlotte, because I wantyourhelp in raising my nephew.”
“Why?”
He frowned. “Most women, when receiving a proposal from a man like me, would not stop to ask why.”
She chuckled. “You think not? Perhaps you don’t know women as well as you think, Your Grace.”
