Page 6 of Must Love Dukes
“In a hurry to be off?” He nodded towards the inn’s front entrance.
“It is only that—my stepmother wishes to find me a suitor. Sooner rather than later. I do not wish you to be caught up in such nonsense, sir. Which you would be if she spied us together.”
“You don’t wish to involve me?” He seemed oddly…surprised. Picking up one of the pies, he took another bite, scowling.
“We are only having a conversation. It isn’t as if anything improper has occurred, unless one counts these atrocious meat pies. But my stepmother is somewhat determined.”
“Terrible.” He tossed the pie on the plate. He brushed off his fingers. “I meant the pies, not your stepmother. So she wishes to see you wed.”
Muriel looked down at her lap before raising her chin once more. “It seems to be her only purpose as of late. What is so wrong with remaining unwed? I wish to study art, not marry to satisfy society. Thus, I am on my way to a house party, one I have little interest in attending.”
“I’m not fond of house parties either, as it happens. Hotbeds of matchmaking, particularly at this point in the Season.” A big hand waved in the air, glinting off the signet ring he wore.“Which explains the miserable plate of food before me, as Mrs. Catterby’s larder has likely been picked clean. Half of London has stopped at this inn on their way to the Savorton estate,” he paused. “I’ll assume that is your destination.”
“It is,” Muriel said in a miserable tone. “There is bound to be an enormous amount of matchmaking.” Especially where she was concerned.
“I share your absolute misery, Miss Bell. As it happens, I’m highly sought after as a husband. So much so, I am hounded at a house party. Trapped like prey with no means of escape. Hunted like some poor fox?—”
Muriel held up a palm. Splendid or not, she was in no mood for his dramatics, given her own situation. “I don’t doubt it.”
The green of his eyes sparkled back at her. “The matrons of thetondo nothing but toss their daughters in my direction. I must bat them away as if I’m engaged in a game of shuttlecock.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “You are comparing young ladies to a bit of cork and feathers.” The man before her was undeniably handsome, but even so, he wasn’t the only attractive man in society.
“You think I’m embellishing my appeal? But I’m the—” The words halted as he clamped his lips shut. “Best looking gentleman at every society function, and I’m wealthy to boot.” He smiled broadly. “Then, there is my wit, which is razor sharp. My charm?—”
“Yes, yes.” Muriel gave him an annoyed look. “You’re perfect in every conceivable way. Stop attempting to convince me.”
A burst of laughter erupted from him, sliding along the length of Muriel’s body until her skin prickled in pleasure. “You are the only woman I’ve ever met who merely wishes to draw me as a vegetable and not wed me, Miss Bell.” There was a thread of disbelief coloring his words. “A true rarity.”
Muriel gave him a rueful look. “Not a vegetable. An oak tree.”
Those green eyes took her in once more. “An oak tree?”
“In autumn.”
“Ah.” He flicked one of the curls hovering over his ear. “I can see why that would make a great deal of sense, Miss Bell. Soyouare attending the Savorton house party where there will be a great deal of eligible gentlemen. Do you hope to find a lord who reminds you of a stalk of celery?”
“As I said, my stepmother is rather determined I wed. I am not of the same opinion.”
Why had she said that? Another of her failings—speaking without thinking. She’d enjoyed their conversation quite a bit, but the man before her was a stranger. Muriel shouldn’t be discussing her existence with him.
“You are a most interesting young lady, Miss Bell. Much like your Arcimboldo.”
“Because I don’t seek a husband?” She glanced towards the front of the inn, expecting Nora to appear at any moment. “Why must I wed to please society? Shouldn’t a match be made because it pleases me?”
He nodded slowly in agreement. “I have often felt the same.”
“Exactly. Pity you cannot convince Lord and Lady Allred of the same. I suspect, strongly, there is an unwelcome surprise waiting for me at this house party. I fear I am no match for their shared vision of my future.” Muriel looked down at her slippers. “An unwanted suitor. One I will not be able to dissuade.”
He gave her a thoughtful look. “I see. That explains why you remind me of a rabbit trapped in a snare.”
“Unkind.” She glared at him.
He shrugged. “And the right man won’t mind, Miss Bell, what you paint or how often. You might be surprised, pleasantly, at the Savorton house party.”
“Doubtful. But I appreciate your confidence, all the same.” She came to her feet and bobbed politely. “It has been a pleasure,sir, however, I must take my leave. I hope you manage to avoid being taken down like a bloodied fox during a hunt this Season. Should I see you in London, I will be sure to enjoy the spectacle. Now, I must go before…” She nodded in the direction of the inn’s door.
“Your stepmother appears.” He came to his feet as well and bowed. “I fear I haven’t introduced myself. I am Buxton.”
