Page 25 of A Chance to Dance with the Duke
She cleared her throat. “His Grace cannot truly favor me.”
She hadn’t expected her parents to argue, but their utter lack of protests for the sake of her pride still stung just a little.
“He’s only doing this to…to…” Her hands flailed as if the answer might be hidden in the hothouse flowers on her father’s desk.
“Of course he could have any young lady of his choosing,” her mother said. “But at this particular moment he seems to feel beholden to you.”
Beholden.
Meg’s lower lip quivered before she mashed her lips together. He felt beholden.
How romantic.
“Child, it matters not why a powerful Duke has you in his sights.” Her father’s expression wasn’t unkind. In fact, he looked almost regretful to have to spell this out for her. “Whether it is to win favor with me, or to save face after that debacle you got yourself into the other night…”
Meg winced. She wasn’t sure her parents would ever forgive her for that. For years she’d excelled at being a disappointment to them, but a quiet one. A dutiful one.
She might not have been the daughter of their dreams, and she certainly wasn’t the male heir they’d hoped for. But she’d managed to avoid scandal, at least.
Until recently.
“It matters not why His Grace has singled you out,” he finished. “What matters is how you take advantage of this gift you’ve been offered.”
Her eyes stung, and only partially from all these dratted flowers.Gift.Was that what this was?
Because it felt an awful lot like she was at the center of some cruel joke.
Maybe this was one of those dares Ann’s sister Franny had told them about.
Maybe Carver had been dared to send her flowers and make it seem like he was going to court her, just like her friends had dared her to say yes to his offer of a dance.
She bit her tongue to keep from arguing any further because her father had been unusually kind just now, but his patience was clearly waning.
“Now,” he said as he strode toward the door. “You’ve kept your honored guest waiting long enough, I should think.” He paused at the door, holding it open for her. “You will visit withthat young man and you will do everything in your power to ingratiate yourself and make him see that you are a respectable, dutiful young lady. Do you understand?”
Meg had no choice. “Yes, Father.”
And that was how Meg found herself sitting across from the most handsome man she’d ever met…trying not to cry.
The silence was broken only by the sound of her mother’s knitting needles as she steadily worked away in the corner. Far enough for some privacy if they kept their voices low.
But Meg didn’t wish for privacy. Not with this man. Not ever.
As if to deny that statement, her heart did a little flip when his lips curved up in a small smile. “Miss Taylor?—”
“Please don’t.”
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she just barely held back a sigh.
She took a deep breath. “If you are here to apologize?—”
“I’m not.”
Now she was the one to stare in surprise.
“All right, I am,” he conceded, and…blast it all if her heart didn’t do a backflip when he gave her a rueful little smile. “But I would also like to explain.”
She smoothed her skirts, simply because it gave her something to do. “Very well.”
