Page 29 of Duke of Sapphire

He looked at her. It was the kind of look he gave to a situation he had already resolved in his head and was now watching for the other party’s response before proceeding. She had seen it applied to correspondence, to a difficult inn landlord, to the timber dispute she had argued with him about on the road.

She had not expected it to apply to her.

The fire crackled.

She waited another three seconds. Then: “Well? What is it?”

“I am proposing,” Sappherton said, “that you marry me.”

He said it the way he might say I am proposing that we stagger the timber deliveries.

Charlotte could not speak.

CHAPTER 10

“What?” Charlotte asked, unsure she’d heard him correctly.

“The arrangement would address your situation with regard to your father and Lord Redmont,” the Duke explained. “You would have the protection of my title and household. Ian would have the consistency he requires without the disruption of a formal governess. The terms would be practical. A marriage in name, at minimum, until circumstances allow for a fuller assessment.”

He stopped, and he was watching her.

Charlotte did not move. She was aware of the Duke standing six feet away, staring at her as though he had just offered her a sensible solution to a contract dispute and was waiting for her to run the numbers.

And Charlotte, who had fled a proposal she did not want in the small hours of a cold morning, who had ridden north in a stolen valet’s coat and repaired broken soldiers with yarn and promised a grieving six-year-old that all shall be well —

Everything came at once: indignation, puzzlement, fear… She bolted to her feet and took a step sideways, knocking a brass figurine off the side table. She did not care.

“This is your solution?”

Sappherton blinked owlishly, clearly confounded by her sudden burst of passion. “You are displeased?”

“I fled a wedding a few days ago. I have been hiding in a carriage, spraining my ankle in coaching yards, and I have somehow arrived at the other end of Scotland only to receive another proposal of marriage.” She looked at him. “Do you see why I am struggling with this?”

“I see why you are surprised.”

“Surprised.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “That is one word for it.”

“It is the accurate word.”

“The accurate word,” Charlotte said, “is something considerably less polite.” She took one step back and then stopped, because there was a wall behind her and she was not going to be cornered. “What on earth makes you think I would accept?”

Sappherton was quiet for a moment. “I know you,” he said, “will not leave a child lost in the woods.”

She stopped.

He did not say Ian’s name. He did not have to. She could hear it in the shape of the sentence; in the way he held her gaze without flinching.

“Taking care of a child, helping him through this difficult time,” she said, after a moment, “is not a reason to marry someone.”

“No. But it is a reason to stay.”

“You are using a six-year-old boy as a negotiating instrument.”

“I am stating a fact.”

“You are being deeply manipulative.”

“I am being practical,” he said. “Which you have generally found useful.”