Page 42 of Who Wants to Marry a Duke
“At the time, I did. You’re the one who got me alone. You’re the one who encouraged me to remove my coat and waistcoat.”
Anger welled up in her, sudden and fierce. “You’re the one who kissedme.”
“True. That’s one reason I’ve been rethinking my assumptions.”
She jumped up. “If you had bothered to stop and talk to me on the way out of that library, I would have explained that I never intended that.”
“I probably wouldn’t have believed you, anyway.”
“But surely my rejection of your offer the next day must have told you I’d never meant to do anything so deceitful.”
“It told me you had changed your mind after kissing me. Perhaps I was too forward or—”
“Your kissing was fine,” she muttered. “But your proposal could have used improvement.”
“Right.” He searched her face. “Because I was ‘obvious’ in showing I didn’t wish to make it in the first place. That’s what you said the other night, at any rate.”
“It’s true. You clearly wanted to be anywhere but at my father’s town house, offering for my hand. I still don’t know why you came at all.” She stared at him. “That’smyquestion. You were a duke. You could have escaped any entanglement with just a word or two, and no one would have dared gainsay it.”
“I might point out that if Ihadused my rank for that purpose, you would have been ruined. Because I made the offer and you refused it, you were only considered a jilt. Especially after your stepmother worked so hard to blacken my reputation.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “She merely said what everyone else was saying.”
“Actually, no. Until then, I hadn’t had much of a reputation for anything except being more German than English in my habits. Your stepmother had to figure out a way to keep you from being blamed for jilting a duke, so she told people you refused me because of my rakehell ways. Thus our . . . indiscretion was seen in a different light.”
His tone turned sarcastic. “I became the wicked whore-hound taking advantage of a naive young woman, and you became the virtuous virgin who stood up to me. It was a brilliant strategy on her part.” He sipped his brandy. “And in a way, it worked in my favor, too, since society loves the wicked. The rumormongers have to havesomeoneto talk about, after all. Your stepmother made sure they weren’t gossiping aboutyou.”
Olivia stood there, stunned. “What?I—I had no idea.” She stared hard at him. “Wait, I know I’ve read tales of you and your conquests of opera singers and merry widows, of wives you seduced and brothels you frequented. Just yesterday, you mentioned having a mistress, for goodness’ sake. Not only that, but you wanted us to . . . indulge in such activities without fear of the consequences. So your reputation wasn’t all created out of whole cloth by my stepmother.”
“I never said it was. But once she invented the role for me, I didn’t see any reason not to step into the character. I figured if I had to endure her spurious gossip, I might as well enjoy myself while doing it. That way I could choose my own adventures.” His tone flattened. “But I would have preferred being myself instead and not the character in someone else’s play.”
What an odd way to put it. Then again, he did enjoy the theater. And she could see how it would feel like that to him, poor man.
Her skeptical side reasserted itself. Poor man, ha! He might have told himself he hadn’t enjoyed his reputation as a rakehell, but obviously he’d had his fun all the same. Mama hadn’t needed to push soveryhard to get him playing that role. “I didn’t know Mama’s gossip had such an effect on you. All I ever saw of that night was her anger at me for refusing you and your hurt pride over it. Which, quite honestly, didn’t make sense to me. And still doesn’t. I was only doing what you and I both wanted.”
“Being refused wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted not to be forced into offering for you in the first place. I wanted your stepmother and I to smooth things over, so that no one’s reputation was . . . harmed. Unfortunately, she could only see one way out. So she forced my hand.”
“But how? You still haven’t told me that.”
He narrowed his gaze on her. “You really didn’t know your stepmother was blackmailing me with a secret about my family?”
Blackmail! A chill skittered down her spine. “Of course I didn’t. How could you even think it? Besides, what could Mama have possibly known about you that you felt was worth hiding?”
“Not about me. About my mother.”
Her heart dropped into her stomach. “Y-Yourmother? The lovely woman I met at your sister’s ball?”
“Yes. That lovely woman had her debut at the same time as your stepmother, remember? And according to your ‘Mama,’ they were good friends back then. It’s why she knew what to blackmail me with.”
Her knees wobbled at that. She lowered herself to the sofa. “I felt sure there was something more to your offer. I heard you mention a bargain there at the end, but—”
“You were listening at doors, were you?”
“Not on purpose. I just happened to drop into a chair near the door.” She steadied her shoulders. “I had too much to absorb all at once and had to . . . to sit down.”
His voice softened. “Exactly as you’re doing now.” He took a seat next to her on the sofa. “Here. Have another sip of this.”
When he tried to press the glass into her hand, she shook her head no. “Tell me about the blackmail.”
