“There is no fear of that—it is well known that ‘Blake the Rake’ never means to take a wife,” Cressida explained the moment she’d swallowed a mouthful of sandwich.
“More’s the pity, a good woman might knock some sense into him.” Lady Cotswalts shook her head.
Jane nodded in agreement.
Though it hardly seems fair to expect a woman to fix a man.
No matter the man her father would choose for her, she could rest assured that at least he would not be anything like the Duke of Caden.
ChapterFour
Behavior Befitting Your Station
“What on earth ishedoing here?” a familiar voice exclaimed as Blake entered the drawing room.
It was two days after the ball, and he had been asked to join Richard at his London residence to discuss wedding preparations. Blake sighed as he turned and found himself face-to-face with the woman from two nights ago.
“Oh good, it’s you.” Blake gave the woman a mocking bow.
He could not help but notice that her reddish-brown hair was tied into a tight bun, and he absently wondered what it would look like loose and framing her rather pretty face.
Is this really the time to be ogling someone who clearly loathes you? Besides, she may be pretty, but she is far too prim and proper.
Her brown eyes were full of annoyance as she took him in. He met her gaze and forced his shoulders to relax. He smiled lazily as he glanced at the door.
“It seems fate has brought us together once again,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Far too soon for my liking,” the woman replied, pretending to be interested in the decor. And yet, despite her attempt to ignore his presence, he noticed her picking nervously at her skirt.
So much for lightening the mood.
Blake was not used to women reacting to him like this. More often than not, they found his humor endearing, but this woman seemed to find fault with everything he did.
“Ah good, you’re both here.” Richard’s voice filled the room, and Blake turned to find him and Cressida standing in the doorway. “Have you been introduced?”
“No. It’s rather surprising, as the young lady seems to care so much for propriety,” Blake said, enjoying the faint flush on the young woman’s cheeks when she could not come up with a suitable retort.
The woman glared at him. Blake kept his face impassive, hoping it would only irritate her more.
“This is Miss Jane Pembleton, daughter of the Viscount Cotswalts.” Cressida gestured to the woman. “Jane, this is Ambrose Blake Rochester, the Duke of Caden.”
Blake tried not to wince as Cressida said his Christian name. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Miss Pembleton surveying him thoughtfully. He decided to ignore her.
“I would not advise you to call him Ambrose, should your acquaintance lead you to use each other’s first names,” Richard added in a stage whisper. “Generally, he prefers people to call him Blake.”
“Oh, do not worry, Lord Glastonbury, I am sure ‘Your Grace’ will be more than adequate, given that I have no intention of forming any lasting acquaintance with him.” Miss Pembleton smiled at Richard.
“It seems we agree on something,” Blake added, smiling at her.
“Unfortunately, that may prove difficult, given the Duke is my best man and Miss Pembleton is Cressida’s maid of honor.” Richard smiled.
“WHAT?!” Blake and Miss Pembleton exclaimed in unison.
“Please, both of you, sit. We have much to discuss.” Cressida indicated the seats opposite the sofa, where she and Richard now sat.
Blake did as he was asked, still refusing to look at Miss Pembleton.
For a moment, they sat in silence. Richard and his fiancée surveyed Blake and Miss Pembleton.
