“I think that exceedingly unlikely, Father.” Jane paused for a moment, before adding, “You promise that you will actually be looking for a suitable match? That you will not delay simply in the hope that I find someone who will love me?”
“I would not do such a thing. You have my word,” Lord Cotswats answered solemnly. “But I will not be rushed in this decision. Marriage is for life, and I will not have you bound to a man who is unkind or unpleasant.”
“I would not wish that either,” Jane agreed, shuddering at the thought of being married to a brutish, vile man.
“Then we are in agreement.” Her father clapped his hands together. “Is there anything in particular you are looking for in a husband?”
Jane’s heart twisted, but she smiled and shook her head. “In this matter, I will trust your judgment.”
Heaven knows mine has not been helpful thus far.
“A weighty responsibility, indeed.” Lord Cotswalts tapped a finger on his desk in thought. “And who knows, perhaps with the pressure of finding a husband removed, you will be able to more readily enjoy this Season.”
“Perhaps.” Jane smiled. “At the very least, this will be my last Season as an unmarried woman.”
“It will, indeed,” Lady Cotswalts agreed.
Jane noticed the glint in her mother’s eyes. It was the glint of a woman who had been issued a challenge and who refused to lose.
Let her try and find me a love match, and we shall see who will be proved right in the end.
Jane smiled at her mother, smug in the knowledge that she would be the victor.
ChapterTwo
Brotherly Blows
“Iam not sure what I expected from sparring with Blake the Rake, but honestly it was not this. I’ve met children who punch harder.” Richard Glassbury, the Marquess of Glastonbury, grinned.
“Do you often get punched by children? Rather a strange pastime, do you not think?” Ambrose Blake Rochester, the Duke of Caden, laughed. “Perhaps I am simply trying not to damage your pretty face.”
The Duke of Caden was an unusual man in many respects. He knew that the ton loved nothing more than to gossip. Naturally, they thought him charming and unmanageable in equal measure. Especially after rejecting every match his father recommended. And, of course, after his decision to use his middle name and distance himself from his father’s legacy only fuelled their suspicion and curiosity.
‘Blake’ has always suited me better, and it was the last thing my mother gave me.
Blake held his arms in front of his face, casually wiping a bead of sweat on his brow as he did so. He was easily a head and shoulders taller than his friend.
His usually wavy brown hair was slick with sweat—he and Richard had been sparring for hours. The muscles in his shoulders and arms ached, and despite his light muslin shirt, the heat of the sun was hard to bear.
“If you were capable of punching my face, perhaps I would be worried.” Richard laughed, avoiding Blake’s punch. “But that would of course require you to actually hit me.”
“Well, you know that I aim to please.” Blake closed the distance between himself and Richard, and aimed a blow at his head that the man blocked.
“So I am told. Or at least so your reputation would have me believe.” Richard shook his head, circling Blake, clearly looking for an opening.
“Oh, I assure you, everything you have heard is true. I can produce several witnesses to confirm this, should you desire.” Blake shifted his weight from foot to foot, keeping his eyes on his friend.
Just a little closer.
“I have no desire to hear from one of your witnesses, thank you.” Richard wrinkled his nose. “Besides, how would I know if she was not simply telling me what you had told her to say.”
“I am wounded that you think so little of my skills.” Blake lashed out with a right hook, followed by a cross. “I assure you I have a collection of testimonies to the contrary.”
Richard rolled his eyes as he blocked one of Blake’s punches. “Are you this arrogant with the fairer sex?”
“Arrogant? No. Charming? Yes.” Blake ducked and felt the wind from Richard’s blow graze his face.
“Honestly, it is hard to see what they see in you.” Richard was panting.
