“Marry?” her mother said excitedly. “Your Grace, is now the right time to say that Florentia too is hoping to wed?” She giggled. “This is a match made in heaven.”
“Now, now, Betsey,” her father chuckled and gave his wife’s leg a squeeze. “Do not scare the man off. Of course marriage is expected, but there is no rush. The fact that he is interested in courting Florentia is more than we could hope for the time being.”
“On the contrary,” the duke continued simply, not at all put out by Florentia’s mother. “I did not come here to ask permission to court your daughter.” He was still looking right at Florentia, an expression on his face that she could not read. He was made of stone, it seemed. Dark and brooding and mysterious. It made her stomach flutter...or was it turning? “I came here to see if she might be my wife.”
The announcement sent a shock wave across the room.
Florentia’s mother gasped. Her father choked on his tea. Florentia’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. As to the duke? He simply sat and watched the reactions unfold, not at all surprised or concerned for the effect his announcement had on the room.
“Your Grace...” her mother sputtered. She had a grip on Florentia’s knee, squeezing tightly as if to keep her in place. “That is most... truly, we are not... that is a most generous offer.”
“A most generous offer,” her father agreed. “One that we are not worthy of, for truly, Your Grace, we were not expecting such a thing.”
“I do not play games,” the duke continued simply. He tore his eyes from Florentia and was back on her father. “And I do not waste time. I am in need of a wife and my reasons for being here today were to see if your lovely daughter might aspire to take my hand in marriage.”
“Yes!” her mother cried out without pause. Then she cleared her throat and smiled politely. “I mean, yes, that is most?—”
“I am sorry,” Florentia spoke up finally, having only just gotten over the shock of it. “Might I say something? Or is my opinion not a concern?”
“Florentia!”
“Please,” the duke said. “I admit, I might have been a tad hasty in announcing my intentions.”
“You were not,” her father hurried. “And we are most grate?—”
“Why now?” Florentia spoke over her father. “And why me? Forgive me Mother, Father, for I am grateful. That, I promise. Itis just... does this not all seem a little rushed? Might I not have a chance to get to know the man to whom I will be married before agreeing to such a union?”
She could tell immediately that she had said the wrong thing.
Her mother glared daggers at her. Her father groaned and rubbed his eyes. As for the duke? He seemed curious about her, that same smirk from earlier on his lips and in his eyes. It had her stomach fluttering, for although she found all of this insane, there was no denying how handsome he was. And a duke to boot.
Not that she cared for such things. Again, there was but one thing that Florentia wanted, and she needed answers before she dared to get her hopes up.
“My reasons are nothing sinister, I assure you,” the duke spoke simply. “And my intentions are pure. The fact is...”
He considered for a moment, looking between Florentia and her mother and father. “At thirty years of age, it has occurred to me that it is time that I wed. I do not wish to waste months searching for a bride, and I do not wish for word to spread throughout England that I am of this mind. I dread the headache this will cause, and the hassle. I want a simple, quick marriage, devoid of drama and gossip. I do not think that is unreasonable.”
Had a less romantic proposal ever been uttered in the history of courtship? Somehow, Florentia doubted it.
“Not at all,” her mother said, squeezing Florentia’s leg so tightly now that it hurt.
“Well said,” her father agreed. “We all know the drama that follows courtship, do we not?” He looked warningly at Florentia. “Suffice to say that a quickly organized wedding will be in all of our best interests.”
Florentia spoke up. “But what of?—”
“Shall we discuss terms?” her father cut her off. “If we adjourn to my study, Your Grace, we can have this matter sorted before the day’s end.”
“I would like to ask?—”
“What a wonderful idea,” her mother stampeded over her. “The sooner the better.”
“If I might just?—”
“A small wedding,” her father said, already on his feet. “I get the sense that we are of the same mind, Your Grace?”
“Please,” Florentia attempted, getting flustered. “All I would like to know is?—”
“Friends and family only.” Her mother was on her feet also. “Whatever His Grace thinks is best.”
