“Oh, but you must be!” Aaron insisted, pushing him toward a group of giggling young ladies. “Go on!”
Reluctantly, Hugo approached another group. This time, he decided to try a more direct approach, something he imagined a rake like Aaron would employ.
“Ladies,” he greeted, his voice deeper than usual, trying for a seductive tone. “I find myself quite captivated by thesparklein your eyes.” He focused on a young woman with bright, curious eyes.
In another life, he would have thought her pretty, yet the particular sparkle in her irises only made him think of…
No, he would not think ofher.
The young woman giggled. “Oh, Your Grace! Are you quite well? You sound as though you have swallowed a frog!”
Her friends erupted in laughter, and Hugo felt a hot flush creep up his neck.
“I assure you, Miss Clara, I am perfectly well. My voice is merely resonant. Perhaps you are not used to such men as myself.”
“Resonant, indeed!” Miss Clara teased, still giggling. “Like a foghorn in a storm!”
Hugo retreated, defeated, to his table. Aaron was now openly roaring with laughter.
“A foghorn, Hugo? Afoghorn?” Aaron gasped, clutching his belly. “My dear Duke, you have the romantic prowess of a turnip! Whatever will we do with you? Not everyone shares your schedule, you know. Some of us actually get out and have a little fun from time to time.”
“I fear a little too much fun.”
“To each their own. Judge me all you want, but I am having a fabulous time.”
“And frankly, I found their conversation utterly unstimulating.”
“Perhaps,” Aaron said, finally regaining his composure, though a smile still played on his lips, “it is not them, Hugo. Perhaps it is you. Or rather, perhaps it is because your mind is already occupied.” He leaned back, his gaze shrewd. “You know, if allthese attempts to find Lady Inverhall a husband have…failedso far, perhaps there is a simpler solution.”
Hugo raised an eyebrow, wary. “And what exactly might that be? I am sure I would have thought of it already.”
“Keep her for yourself,” Aaron answered simply, as if he was suggesting something as normal as a walk in the park. “Marry her. Problem solved. You get to keep yourannoyanceclose at hand. If she bothers you so much, you can let her stay at Inverhall and do as she pleases, for that matter. You have enough money to?—”
Hugo nearly choked on his drink. “Are you mad, Aaron? Marryher? The woman who drives me to distraction, who challenges my every word, who sends fire into?—”
“Your very soul? Who clearly gets under your skin like no other woman ever has,” Aaron finished, his eyes twinkling. “Come on, Hugo. You have been a walking thundercloud since she arrived. And tonight, you are trying to flirt with other women and failing miserably because you are clearly thinking ofher. It is written all over your perpetually scowling face. Besides, even I know these women pale in comparison to her.”
“Nonsense,” Hugo scoffed, though he could not quite meet Aaron’s gaze. “It is merely the inconvenience of the situation. I need a suitable duchess if I am to give in to the wheel of Society. It must be a woman of gentle breeding and decorum who understands her place, not a wild Highland banshee who argues with me at every turn and causes scenes wherever she goes.”
He downed the last of his drink and slammed his glass hard on the table.
“A banshee who also happens to be quite beautiful, witty, and, dare I say, rather captivating when she is not trying to infuriate you,” Aaron countered smoothly. “And who, by the looks of it, has you more tied in knots than any suitable duchess ever could.” He paused, taking a sip of his claret. “Dismiss it all you like, Hugo. But the truth, much like a good whisky, eventually reveals itself.”
Hugo merely grunted, beckoning the barkeep for another drink.
I cannot consider the idea, of course. It is preposterous. Utterly, completely preposterous. And yet…
As Hugo half listened to Aaron tease him, a small, unwelcome thought began to take root in the back of his mind, a thought that he quickly, fiercely, tried to drown in the amber liquid.
Keep her…
Chapter Fifteen
“Pardon me, Lady Inverhall,” Mrs. Whipple called, knocking softly on the drawing room door. “You have a visitor.”
Elspeth looked up from her horrific attempt at embroidering to see who was standing behind the housekeeper.
“Lady Inverhall,” the Dowager Duchess greeted, sweeping into the room with her usual grace. “I trust you are well. I have come with a new proposition for you.”
