Page 23 of Miss Devon’s Choice

Crossing his arms over his chest, Christian studied the mischievous glint in her eyes. Was she teasing? Flirting, perhaps? He could not remember the last time an English miss had looked at him with such an open and honest expression.

“What are your reasons, Miss Devon?” he asked, his curiosity inspiring the question.

Briefly her eyes lowered to her lap, where her fingers laced and unlaced continuously. “I am concerned complete honesty may only frighten you at this point.”

“Complete honesty would be refreshing at any point.” Christian took in her rounded shoulders and fidgeting fingers with interest. He could feel the tension surrounding Rebecca; her silence was contemplative. She chewed her bottom lip, her stare unfocused. Whatever she was considering, she was devoting serious thought to it.

Finally, she spoke. “If I promise I will be honest in all our conversations would you promise the same, my lord?”

Speculating on a person’s motives had become second-nature to Christian. What was it she hoped to uncover about him, should she secure such a promise? Why the insistence on coming to know him better? An arrangement such as theirs was practical and impersonal.

But Rebecca’s manners, her way of speaking to him, all seemed genuine enough.

And really, what was she asking him but what honor already demanded of him?

“I would.”

Rebecca’s eyes cleared, meeting his squarely. Her body relaxed and the hands in her lap stilled. “I make my promise then, to only speak the truth to you. I will never tell you a falsehood.” Her brown eyes shone brightly, her expression challenging him.

He started to smile but bit the inside of his cheek to keep the expression from escaping. The woman had made her vow with sincerity. It would be insulting to show any sign of the amusement he felt.

“Very well. I promise the same. I will never lie to you, Miss Devon, on my honor.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca stood gracefully, staring down at him rather peculiarly as she began to explain. “It is important that I come to know and understand you, my lord. You see, I have made up my mind about something. I thought to keep it a secret, but this opportunity to speak to you so openly has changed things.”

Christian cleared his throat in an effort to conceal his amusement. The young woman was charming. But he had known several young ladies with the trait only to discover they had too many vices to redeem their virtues.

“You seem to be kind,” she said, her hands moving from her side to behind her back, where he imagined she clasped them together. “I hope you will not laugh at me.” Her cheeks started to turn pink.

The mystery of whatever she wished to say tugged at him, but Christian remained composed and kept his arms crossed before him.

“I will do my best to take this matter seriously, Miss Devon, should you ever actually present it to me.” Perhaps he was too curious now. He kept his jaw clamped shut over any further words, waiting.

Rebecca took in a deep breath. “I have decided to fall in love with you.”

Had she doused him with a bucket of water, or proclaimed herself queen, Christian could not have been more surprised. He stared, his mind refusing to take in her words while his traitorous heart gave a shockingly large leap. Clamping his emotions firmly, putting the offending organ in a strangle-hold of memory, Christian stood and took one step backward, away from Rebecca Devon and the danger she had just presented to him.

“Miss Devon,” he said, allowing numbness to overtake him. “I thank you for your honesty. Please excuse mine. That is a preposterous thing to say.”

Her cheeks went from pink to ash-white. “What?” she whispered.

A voice spoke in the hallway, bringing Christian to an awareness of their situation. They were unchaperoned, in a closed-up room, and standing very near each other. He said nothing more, though he bowed, and quickly took his leave through the parlor door he had used to enter the music room.

Snatching up the half-written letter to his grandfather, Christian didn’t look back once, making his way as swiftly as he could to his chambers.

The only thing worse than society’s machinations and expectations, the one thing he could not allow to disturb what peace he had achieved in his life, was love. He’d forbidden himself that emotion long ago, after his exile to England and his father’s death.

Love had killed his mother, ruined his father’s happiness, and left Christian to live on without either of them to guide him. Love was a disease, destroying hearts and lives, creating nothing but chaos where there ought to be order.

An arranged marriage was supposed to protect him from that devastating sentimentality, not throw him directly into its path.

Miss Rebecca Devon had gone from a weeping soul to the most dangerous lady of his acquaintance, all with a few words spoken between them.

And I still have a fortnight in her company. Christian nearly groaned aloud, closing the door to his bedroom and resting his head against the wood.

Coming to this house party had been the biggest mistake of his life. How was he to continue on with Rebecca Devon’s proclamation hanging between them?

Chapter Nine