She completed a few steps of the minuet in silence, her eyes never leaving his.
And then she sighed. “About as interested as I imagine you are in me. In that, at least, we are well matched.”
He couldn’t do it. Not to her and not to himself. He would not become the devil she feared in the night. Not even for a dukedom.
“Then let me ease your mind.” He gave a tight smile. “I shall refrain from asking a question to which you would be forced to assent in opposition to your own wishes, thereby saving us several decades of misery. You’re free, Miss York. At least, as free as I have the power to grant you.”
An uneasy prickle slid down his spine. He pushed it aside. He would find a way to save his estate and his standing without hurting anyone else in the process.
Somehow.
“Thank you.” Miss York’s tight posture relaxed, and her steps resumed a steady rhythm. “Are congratulations due to Miss Wynchester?”
“No,” he said with a sigh. No matter how passionate he felt. “Since you’re familiar with duty, you understand why not.”
“Mmm,” was all Miss York said in reply.
Since hecouldn’tchoose Chloe, it was bloody good fortune he wasn’t in love with her or anything inopportune like that.
Miss York kept time with the music. “When will you take your painting back?”
Lawrence nearly tripped. “You don’t want it?”
She smiled. “I was only interested in your library.”
His neck flushed. “Until you noticed it contained fewer books every year?”
“No, that would be the best part: filling up the blank spaces with whatever I pleased.” Her steps were light. “I could tell you cared more about the artwork than the gala.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you said you liked the dancing hobgoblins?”
“Anyone liking it should have raised suspicion,” she chided, her eyes twinkling playfully now that she needn’t fear being burdened with Lawrence and his questionable taste in art. “I doubted anyone had complimented you on it before, so, to be kind, I thought I would. I never expected you togiveit to me.”
The only reason he’d been willing to part with that painting was because itwasn’tspecial. His father had another just like it.
His skin itched with shame. “I thought it could make one of us happy.”
“Now you know.” Miss York’s expression was wry. “I’ll have it sent back posthaste.”
Now that they’d officially called off their unofficial union, the finality of their decision made him light-headed with panic. “I’ll tell your parents—”
“Allow me. I will say I refused, which is what I should have done from the beginning. You and I both knew we did not suit. It is time I did what was best forme.” She glanced over his shoulder and winced. “Do you mind if we wait until tomorrow? I’ll need to think of the best way to inform my parents of the new development, and I’d rather not ruin the party.”
“Tomorrow is more than fine,” he assured her. “There’s no one else I must hurry off to propose to.”
“Hmm.” Miss York said nothing more, but her eyes were full of skepticism.
Very well, Lawrencewasin a hurry. There were accounts to settle and wages to pay, and none of it would be possible without a large dowry.
But he also had tolivewith the decision he made. His bride would have to live with him, too. The brief courtship with Miss York had shown him that “forever” was far too long to be wed to someone who would rather not be.
Even if his future bride’s motivation was just as mercenary as his—a dukedom in exchange for a dowry—as long as she was happy with the arrangement, and the money would be his on their wedding day, Lawrence would do as duty must.
Chloe must understand the predicament all too well. She was doing the same thing. When she’d come to collect her favor, she’d admitted frankly that she had no dowry and was on the hunt for a wealthy suitor.
That man wasn’t Lawrence. He could no longer claim to be solvent. He was losing his town house.
But until he and Chloe both found what they were looking for, perhaps they could have each other.
