Page 22 of To Dare a Duke

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Your reputation is not one that recommends you as a husband, that is without question, but as that is not the reason for my refusal it is neither here nor there.”

“Then what the devil do you mean by saying no? If you were afraid of me, afraid the rumours have truth to them, that I can understand, and I would endeavour to put your mind at ease. However, there is no other earthly reason you should refuse such an offer.”

He sounded so outraged that her desire to save hurting his feelings evaporated.

“I mean only what I said. No. Thank you. I will not marry you,” she repeated, sounding remarkably calm when her heart was performing an agitated tattoo in her chest.

For heaven’s sake, she was standing in front of the next chapter of The Damned Duke and the inspiration for her devilish villain had just proposed to her! It was beyond any plot even she could have come up with.

“Am I not good enough?” he asked, the words mild though there was annoyance flashing in his eyes.

Prue gave a huff of impatience and folded her arms, her nerves dissipating as her irritation grew. “I have never had ambitions to marry a title, your grace,” she said, exaggerating the address a little. “If, however, you are so anxious to marry into my family, I assure you that my cousin Minerva would be more than pleased to assist you.”

That was likely the understatement of the century. She made a mental note to never, ever, mention this to Minerva. She’d make Prue’s life unbearable if she knew.

The duke snorted at that, looking revolted at the suggestion. “Of that I have little doubt,” he said, folding his arms and mirroring her stance. “And I have no intention of marrying a social climber, I thank you. Quite the opposite.”

She stared at him, considering. “Is that why you chose me?” she asked, finally making some sense of it. “For I can think of no other reason. We barely know each other, and I have no money, nor connections, nothing that could bring anything to the relationship. It certainly isn’t a love match,” she added, laughing a little at the idea.

“Is that why you refuse me?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes with suspicion now. “Because I’ve not taken the trouble to court you?”

Prue rolled her eyes at him. “No.”

He stood staring at her, looking as if she was a puzzle for which he had the final piece and couldn’t understand why it wouldn’t fit. She bit back a laugh at his consternation. He’d probably chosen the one woman in the whole of England who would refuse him.

“Do you not think you at least owe me an explanation?” He folded his arms, looking imperious and cross and for some reason not the least bit intimidating any more.

She shrugged. “Not really.”

He looked quite appalled now, and she almost felt sorry for him.

“So, I am to believe you would rather continue to live in penury, dependent on the charity of your vulgar aunt, than become the Duchess of Bedwin, with power and wealth beyond your comprehension?”

That last bit had been a mistake on his part. Prue’s temper lit like a match to kindling. “Well, if it’s beyond my comprehension, you can hardly blame me for not understanding the great honour you bestow upon me,” she replied acidly.

Of all the arrogant, conceited….

“Don’t be obtuse,” he snapped. “Or I shall consider your mental abilities lacking, which was the one thing I had not believed below par. I have neither the time nor patience for sarcasm.”

She gaped at him, astonished by the insult. Any guilt she may have felt at casting the man as her villain, with little in the way of disguising him, vanished in an instant.

“Why did you come and propose at all, if that’s case?” she demanded. “I never implied I invited your attentions, did I? I am aware I am no beauty, not do I have fortune or connections, I already told you as much. I have no pretensions to any. It is you who has forced this ridiculous situation upon us both, for reasons I simply cannot fathom.”

“My reasons are sound, I assure you,” he said, biting off each word with precision. “I have less conviction of yours, however. Give me one good reason you would refuse an offer which, as you have said yourself, your cousin would snatch at with both hands.”

“Fine,” she snapped, quite out of patience with the aggravating creature now. “Because I will never put myself in a man’s power. I am not, as you so blithely suppose, as close to destitution as you may believe. I will soon be an independent woman, and I will not relinquish that independence for anyone. Certainly not you!”

The atmosphere in the room prickled with tension.

“I see,” he replied, his expression fierce. “So, I am at least absolved of any particular wrongdoing, or at least any that would stop you marrying me. My greatest crime is my gender. Is that correct?”

“If it makes you happy to couch it in such a fashion, yes. That’s correct.”

There was a muscle ticking in his jaw, a frown tugging at those dark eyebrows, and his gaze upon her was insistent and unwavering. Good lord, why didn’t the bloody man just give up and go home?

He didn’t, though. He kept frowning and then looked away from her, pacing the length of the room and back again. Brooding.

Prue thought he was rather good at it; the brooding villain was a role he fitted into all too neatly.