He wasn’t fooled. “My sister and mother talked through the entire thing, didn’t they?”
She nodded.
“Don’t despair, they like you,” he said with a smile.
She colored and said, “Good heavens, why?”
“Mama said that while you haven’t a clue how to be a duchess, you were a lady and trainable.” He stopped at her in-drawn breath and then went on with a wider smile. “To which I responded that of course you were a lady, as I wouldn’t contemplate marriage to a woman who wasn’t.”
“This is all rather overwhelming, Your Grace,” she said faintly, plying her fan vigorously.
“And my sister said that you were refreshing, and she couldn’t wait to meet your siblings because they sounded like so much fun.”
Sarah blinked eyes that suddenly stung with tears of pride. She missed her family with an acute ache of her heart.It is for them that I am doing all this.The reminder was timely. She really didn’t have the luxury of considering her own preferences in this; there were larger considerations at play. She needed to remember not to be selfish.After all, the duke is sacrificing himself for his family. Can I do less for mine?
She turned her face away to hide the tears and fumbled in her reticule for a handkerchief.
“What have I said to upset you?” His voice had that stiff edge to it again.
“Nothing!” she said quickly. “I simply have something in my eye, an eyelash I think,” she said, sniffing.
“Here, let me look,” he said, lifting her chin. She blinked. “I think you must have dislodged it.” He kept hold of her chin a moment longer, looking into her eyes. “If I said something to upset you, I’m sorry. I don’t seem to be able to open my mouth where you’re concerned and not put my foot in it.”
“I am not upset.”
“You’re a very bad liar, you know,” he said gently and with a smile to soften the mild rebuke. Her heart turned over and a shiver raced through her. For a moment she felt that frisson of intimacy from Vauxhall all over again. For a mad second she thought he was going to kiss her. His eyes darkened, his gaze dropped momentarily to her lips, then as if recalled to the reality of their surroundings, he let her chin go and sat back, his cheeks lightly stained.
Making a desperate recover, she said primly, “Lying is a sin,” while restoring her handkerchief to her reticule.
“Then we shall not speak of this any further tonight. Tell me, have you readSense and Sensibility? I believe you would like it.”
“Yes, I have, and several others by the same author. My favorite isEmma.”
“NotPride and Prejudice?”
“Darcy is a prig!” she said tartly, and he laughed.
“Rather like me?” he asked in a teasing way that made her flush with another emotion than embarrassment altogether.
“I never said you were a prig, Your Grace.”
“You came mighty close to it the other day,” he said.
“It is not kind of you to remind me of my rudeness,” she said with dignity.
“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry,” he said gravely.
“Now you are being ridiculously agreeable!” she said with a quiver of laughter in her voice.
“Well, I was being very disagreeable there for a bit, I thought I’d best turn over a new leaf.”
“You’re still teasing me.”
“A little. I find it an—agreeable past time,” he admitted.
“We really should watch some of this wretched play, don’t you think?” she said desperately.
“If you insist,” he said, taking her hand. They were both wearing gloves, yet she could feel the tingling heat of his touch even through the twin layers of fabric. Completely bereft of anything sensible to say, she turned her gaze to the stage and watched the rest of the play in glassy-eyed silence. All the while, she was horribly conscious of her hand still clasped in his, resting on his knee. It felt like the most intimate of acts, almost more intimate than the kiss they had shared at Vauxhall, and it completely overset her normally well-balanced state of mind.
