Page 2 of Her Duke to Seduce
Her aunt chuckled. “Very well. But for today, you shall dance.”
Felicity groaned. “And if I refuse?”
“Then you shall find yourself locked out of this library you love so dearly,” her aunt replied sweetly.
Felicity gasped. “You are cruel.”
“I am practical,” Aunt Enid corrected. “Now, shall we?”
With great reluctance, Felicity rose and followed her aunt from the library, her steps slow and dragging. This summer was going to be dreadful. But if she must endure lessons in refinement, she would find a way to remain exactly who she was—clever, outspoken, and utterly unimpressed by the expectations of the world.
Even if she had to waltz her way through it.
Aiden Weston,the Marquess of Redding, stared out at the pond that bordered his family’s estate and the Earl of Winston’s lands. He could not bear to remain inside that drafty castle for another moment. His mother was gravely ill, and it seemed unlikely she would survive the disease that racked her body. She had been coughing incessantly for days. His father had locked himself in his study, unable—or unwilling—to acknowledge the looming tragedy.
Aiden could not blame him. The Duke of Templeton adored his wife. To lose her now… Aiden did not know how he would withstand such a loss. The duchess was the warmth that made their somber home bearable. Without her, what would be left?
“Who are you?”
He turned at the unexpected sound and frowned. Walking toward him was a gangly young girl with golden blonde hair tumbling to her waist in an unruly mess. Did she not own a hairbrush? Her cheek was streaked with dirt, and her gray eyes—stormy and defiant—fixed on him with unwavering boldness. She was too thin, yet she carried herself as though she ruled the world.
“Who are you?” he retorted with a raised brow.
“I asked you first,” she shot back.
Of all the things he had anticipated enduring that day, an argument with a stubborn little girl had not been among them. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. Perhaps this was precisely the distraction he needed to keep his mind from dwelling on his mother’s fate.
“I am the Marquess of Redding,” he informed her.
She tilted her head. “You do not look like a marquess.” She studied him critically. “You do not look much older than I am.”
“A marquess can be any age,” he pointed out, exasperation creeping into his tone. “And I am several years older than you. What are you, eight?”
“I am ten,” she corrected, jutting out her chin. “And I do not appreciate your easy dismissal, as though I am insignificant.”
“You use a great many large words for a little girl,” he noted. “Why are you out here?” Then, narrowing his gaze, he asked, “Are you one of the tenants’ children?” If so, he would have to see her safely home and likely chastise her parents for allowing her to roam about unsupervised.
She laughed outright. “Do I sound like I belong to one of the farmers?”
Aiden frowned. She had him there. The chit was well-spoken, something unlikely for a tenant’s daughter. “I suppose not,” he conceded. Tilting his head, he observed her curiously. “But not many daughters of the peerage sound like you either. At least, not many ten-year-olds I have met.”
“Good,” she said with satisfaction. “I would hate to be lumped in with all the young ladies aspiring to benormal. I plan to shine much brighter than any of them.” She frowned slightly. “But I do not believe it will be for the same reasons they hope to.”
“What is your name?” he demanded. “I should like to ensure you return home safely.”
“I do not require your assistance,” she said airily. “I am perfectly capable of finding my own way back to Winston Manor.” She rolled her eyes. “I managed to find my wayhere, did I not?”
It did not escape his notice that she still had not given him her name. However, she had unwittingly revealed where she belonged. He would have to pay a call to the earl and inquire about her. Perhaps she was the daughter of one of the servants. That would explain her refined vocabulary. Perhaps she had aspirations of becoming a governess one day.
He arched a brow. “And yet, you still have not told me your name.”
“I do not see why that is necessary,” she said breezily. “You are merely a stranger I encountered by the pond. I do not go about giving my name to unknown gentlemen.” She cast him a knowing look. “That would not be proper, would it?”
Aiden chuckled despite himself. “And wandering about alone in the woodsisproper?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “That is entirely different.”
“How so?” He found he rather liked this girl.
