“You are mistaken, Miss Bainbridge,” the duke said, his voice cold. “I never had a Grand Tour.”
The woman blinked, looking a little disconcerted. “Oh, I was sure…”
“No, never. Do excuse me, ladies.”
Abruptly, the duke turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the two women standing side by side, both red-faced.
Miss Bainbridge bit back an unladylike curse which had Lavinia convinced that her ears were playing tricks on her.
“His father, of course.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lavinia said, bewildered.
Miss Bainbridge waved her hand. “The old duke was quite mad, everybody knows that. He ruled his family with an iron fist. He allowed the second Willenshire boy – Henry – to travel a little, andhehad a Grand Tour. I can’t recall if Alexander went abroad. I think not, but it hardly matters. His Grace has not travelled abroad at all. I cannot believe that I was so foolish as to forget that.”
Lavinia said nothing. The Grand Tour was generally seen as a proof of one’s manliness, almost a rite of passage. It made sense that the duke would be uncomfortable about not taking a Tour.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she found herself saying, trying to reassure her. “It was just a mistake.”
Miss Bainbridge breathed in deeply, straightening her shoulders. She turned to look at Lavinia with a cool smile.
“Perhaps so. But I should warn you, my dear, that I do not make mistakes very frequently. Remember that.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode away, leaving Lavinia with the sinking feeling that, once again, she was well out of her depth.
Chapter Eleven
“I suppose that if somebody you admire and respect has a low opinion on something, it is hard not to share it.”
“And love.”
“Hm?”
“And love. Somebody you admire, respect… and love. That’s a rather crucial part of the story, don’t you think?”
It was almost time to go down for dinner, and yet William was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into space, shoulders hunched. He kept replaying the conversation he’d had with Miss Brookford over and over in his head.
There’d been more conversations beyond that particular one, but always painfully polite, always with other people involved.
What are you doing?He asked himself angrily.You’ve decided. Itisdecided. You have an agreement of honour with the lady. Miss Bainbridge is the woman for you. She’ll be a perfect duchess. So why spend all of this time worrying about Lavinia Brookford? Miss Bainbridge made it clear she wasn’t pleased with you talking to her so excessively. Why upset your future wife?
It made sense, after all. Miss Bainbridge was the one who he had agreed to marry. Perhaps the decision had been made in haste, but it wasn’t as if he could withdraw his consent now. A deal had been made, and no gentleman would renege on such an agreement. And really, shewasthe best choice.
Perhaps if he kept repeating it to himself, he would finally start to believe it.
With a sigh, William dragged himself to his feet. He had dismissed his valet in order to think more clearly, and yet he hadn’t managed to reallythinkabout anything at all.
William had more or less given up on becoming attracted to Miss Bainbridge. She was pretty enough, for sure, and intelligent, and perfect in all respects for the role she so clearly wanted. And yet he felt nothing towards her.
He wondered if she knew. Probably. She was a clever woman, after all, and very intuitive.
Did she mind? He imagined not. After all, a husband who was not actuallyin love withhis wife was more likely to leave her alone, and Miss Bainbridge struck him as the kind of woman who liked to be left alone.
It was also apparent that she did not like Miss Lavinia Brookford.
It seemed pointless to deny, at least in his own head, that he found himself drawn to Miss Brookford. William wasn’t entirely sure what it was that attracted him so strongly to her, or why he had not yet given the wretched locket back to the woman, but nevertheless the feelings were there.
He wished they would go away. Miss Brookford was not part of the plan. William’s plan was a carefully laid one, and he did not intend to go astray. Miss Brookford was… was something else, to be sure, but she would not make a good duchess. Not without a great deal of work, and William needed a duchess.
