Florentia very nearly gasped, somehow managing to utter a quiet “Thank you,” as she snatched her hand away, the back of it throbbing from where he had kissed it.
“Is she not as we said, Your Grace?” her mother hurried, stepping in beside her, a hand on Florentia’s back to keep her posture straight. “A dream come to life.”
“She is very beautiful,” the duke said without emotion. He looked her over quickly, not so much as a smile, and then turned to her father. “Shall we adjourn somewhere more comfortable?”
“Of course,” her father hurried. “The sitting room, I should think. Just this way...” Her father was quick to step in beside the duke and lead him across the foyer.
As the two went, the duke offered her another quick glance. She might have hoped for a look of admiration, perhaps a smirk or a sparkle in his eyes to suggest that he liked what he had seen so far. What she was given instead was a dark glower that had her breath catching in her chest.
He did not appear angry. If anything, his expression veered closer toward disinterest, as if he loathed the situation he was in and was blaming her for it. Did he not wish to be here? Or did he simply not like what he saw?
“So far so good,” her mother said under her breath, once they were alone. “But try and be a little more...” She clicked her tongue. “Pronounced, dear. Try not to mumble.”
“Yes, of course…” Florentia watched the duke, still caught on that look he had fixed her in. “Sorry.”
This was all happening so fast. Only five days ago, Florentia had her dreams crushed and her reality shattered. She still felt sting of that deep inside of her. Truly, when her mother had told her that His Grace was calling on her, she had dismissed it as too soon, certain she would have no interest—a pity visit, it felt like. Could it be anything but?
Only now...
Despite the menace that he exudes, there is no denying that is dreamy. More than Lord Breccan, that is for sure.
However, Florentia was also careful to remind herself that she did not care for looks or status orlove. What she required most in a mate was the presumption that such a union would finally see her start a family of her own. The duke could be the most handsome, charming, wonderful man in all of England, but if he did not desire the same as her, she would not marry him.
As to how she might find this out, there was really only one way...
“First of all, Your Grace, I wish to extend our deepest thanks,” Florentia’s father began once they had sat down. A member of staff was busy pouring them tea, but when she reached His Grace, he waved her away. “This has all happened so quickly, and we cannot tell you how excited we are that you have seen fit to make the time.”
“Think nothing of it,” His Grace said. “My brother’s wife has spoken kindly of you, as has my brother for that matter. I trust his opinion implicitly.”
“And the things we have heard of you,” Florentia’s mother spoke up. “Nothing but the best, we assure you. Is that not right, Florentia?” She widened her eyes at Florentia.
They were seated around a small table, the duke on one side, the three of them on the other, positioned so that Florentia was across from His Grace. She was disturbed by the fact that he faced so that his attention was mostly on her father and mother. There was a formality to it all, a sense that he wasn’t here to get to know her better, but to sign a contract.
“Albina speaks highly of you,” Florentia said, fixing her gaze on the duke, trying to lure him to paying her attention.
A momentary silence passed between them, and Florentia’s mother looked at her and widened her eyes again. This was an interview, and Florentia needed to bring her very best. Annoying, really, as it became clear almost immediately that the duke wasn’t going to be the one trying to bridge the gap of familiarity.
Various questions rose to mind, small talk, simple observations that Florentia knew would not cause a stir but would at least force some sort of palaver. But she quelled these questions, deciding in that instant that if the duke was going to be this standoffish then she best cut straight to the point. No sense wasting any more time than she already had.
“I am curious, however,” Florentia began carefully, taking a sip of tea before putting it back down. “Albina has told me that this is the first time you have courted a lady of the ton. Might I ask why?”
“Florentia!” her mother gasped.
“Do not mind her, Your Grace,” her father hurried with a nervous chuckle. “Florentia tends to speak without thinking. But she means nothing by it.”
“Not at all.” The duke looked at her finally, the smallest of smirks on his lips now, curiosity behind his dark eyes. “And it is a perfectly valid question, the answer to which is nothing scandalous. The simple fact of the matter is that I have not wished to, until now.”
“Ah, waiting for the right moment,” her father said. “It takes a man of resolute character to know when, and there is no reason to rush into these things like a?—”
“Why?” Florentia asked before she could help herself.
“Excuse me?”
“Why have you not wished to until now?”
“Florentia...” Her mother growled at her, a look of warning in her eyes.
“Personal reasons,” the duke said with that same curious smirk, now looking right at her. “I do not wish to bore you with the details. Let us just say that it is time that I marry, and as in all things I do, I do not like to drag my feet.”
