“Indeed, this isn’t about love,” Heath conceded. “Yet the same rationale applies to…interest.”
His words seemed to unsettle her. She studied him with a raised brow and sharp, intelligent eyes—but recovered quickly.
“I don’t know what you expect, Your Grace, but understand this: I’m not the sort of lady who mistakesobediencefor kindness, blindly accepting a man’s every word without question.”
“Believe me, Lady Blanche—I’m counting on that.”
“This waspreciselywhat I was trying to avoid,” interjected Lady Gooldwer, evidently heated. “My dear Blanche is too… temperamental. Your Grace, I’m sure that Fanny would suit you better.”
Silence.
Lady Fanny Waldron inhaled sharply, her gaze darting between her mother and Heath, as if unsure whether she had misheard.
Blanche stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.
“She’s far sweeter in temperament, calm and agreeable—whereas Blanche has always been… difficult.”
Heath’s amusement vanished. His jaw tightened, his fingers flexing against the armrest of his chair.
Difficult.
The word hung in the air, sharp and unkind, and Heath found himself resisting the urge to scoff.
Difficult?
Lady Blanche had met him with confidence as she addressed her father’s debts. Coupled with Lady Gooldwer’s clueless remarks about their predicament during their private conversation,Heath assumed that Blanche was the one holding the family together.
And yet, here was her mother, dismissing her as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience.
Heath stood, his movements deliberate, his gaze unwavering.
“I’m not here to negotiate, Lady Gooldwer, nor will I change my mind.” His voice was firm, edged with finality. “I know what I want.”
His eyes locked onto Blanche, who flushed scarlet under his scrutiny.
“My offer is for Lady Blanche. I intend to marry—my dukedom deserves a proper duchess—but it will be her, or I will leave as I arrived. Alone.”
The weight of his words settled over the room, silencing even Lady Gooldwer.
She faltered, clearly flustered. “I—of course, Your Grace… I meant no offense…”
Heath did not respond.
Instead, he turned to Blanche, his expression unreadable.
“I understand this is sudden, but I see an opportunity for us both. You need me, and I need you. This isn’t about love—it’s business.”
Blanche hesitated, her mind racing. She inhaled deeply, then straightened. “If I were to accept…There are debts?—”
“Which I’ll settle without issue.” Heath’s tone was unwavering. “I’ll assume all financial responsibilities, as befits my name.”
Lady Gooldwer, regaining some of her composure, eagerly added, “Your offer is most generous! My girls need new gowns, ribbons, jewels to replace what we’ve lost?—”
“Mother!” Blanche’s cheeks burned with anger. “We need to pay creditors, not indulge in more finery!”
Heath exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “My future bride shall have both.” His words were not merely a promise—they were a declaration. “In return, I expect a wife who represents me with dignity—who obeys my rules and serves as a proper duchess.”
His gaze met hers, steady, unwavering. “Can you do that, Lady Blanche?”
