Page 43 of A Chance to Dance with the Duke
Her brother whistled. “A duke for a brother. Thisisa boon.”
Meg’s gaze turned from her brother, who’d sounded frighteningly like their father, to her mother, who looked as content as a cat after it cornered a mouse.
“But…” Meg had to swallow hard before she could finish. “He doesn’t wish to marry me.”
Her mother’s smile never faltered. “Then he should have taken more care with his actions, dear.”
The guilt she’d been trying to outrun caught up with her, engulfing her in a wave of emotion. It had been a miracle her father hadn’t tried to force Carver’s hand earlier.
Say, when they’d caused a minor scandal in the fountain, and he’d held her so intimately…
He should have steered clear of her after that. He should have thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t been forced to marry her and moved on.
But he’d been kind. So unbearably kind. And all so he could help her look less pitiful to the other gentlemen of good society.
That was his motive, right? He’d told her so.
Like a flash of lightning she remembered the way he’d said he was jealous. But…
No. He’d been teasing. He must have been. This whole dratted scheme was his idea from the start. And the whole goal was to help her catch the eye of another man.
Tears stung the back of her eyes, and her throat grew so tight, she could hardly breathe.
A rustle of movement inside the study had her brother taking off with a bolt. Even her mother abandoned her there, hurrying around the corner so she wouldn’t be caught hovering outside the door.
But of course, Meg couldn’t move so quickly. And so when the door opened, she was there to see it with her own eyes.
Carver’s pained expression. The heavy weight that seemed to have settled over him.
He looked a decade older than he had when they’d been dancing.
Dancing!
That had been her idea, and she’d never forgive herself for it. Her fingers twisted together, as her brow furrowed.
Their gazes met and held, and…she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Or, rather, she had too many thoughts battling at once.
I’m sorry.
You don’t have to marry me.
Please don’t resent me forever.
But he gave a short bow, with a low murmured farewell. He promised to return soon to discuss the details of their wedding.
Their wedding.
The two words echoed in her skull as she watched him walk away, toward the front door. Her father paused in the doorway, seemingly surprised to find her there. He moved past her with a look she rarely saw in her father’s expression.
Pride.
He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Well done, Meg. You’ve landed yourself a duke.” He kept walking, leaving her there alone in the quiet hallway.
It was so quiet, she heard him mutter to himself as he turned the corner. “Who would’ve thought it?”
Days passed with no sight of Carver.
