Page 3 of Courting the Wrong Duke

“That is an exaggeration.”

“Only a slight one.”

William reclaimed the list and folded it along the existing crease.

He did not dislike Sophronia. She was beautiful, accomplished, and entirely aware of both facts. She knew every rule society had devised and possessed the remarkable talent of appearing gracious while ensuring every woman around her understood exactly where they stood in relation to her.

Unfortunately, where Sophronia stood was usually above them.

“She would make an excellent wife,” Gabriel observed.

“For someone.”

“Preferably someone who enjoys being managed.”

William slipped the list back into his pocket. “That may suit some men.”

“But not you.”

“No.”

Gabriel studied him for a moment but said nothing more.

William's reluctance had very little to do with Lady Sophronia herself.

It had everything to do with his brother.

Algernon had married Augusta several years before inheriting the Dukedom of Aldermere upon their father's death. It had been a match arranged with all the care of a treaty. Augusta had brought beauty, lineage, and a respectable fortune. Algernon had brought the certainty that one day she would become a duchess.

William had watched them across countless dinner tables, seated close enough to touch and separated by something colder than distance.

He wanted no part of it.

Gabriel’s expression softened. “You truly mean to resist every name she gives you?”

“I mean to resist marrying a woman merely because our families approve of the arrangement.”

“That is not quite an answer.”

“It is the only one I have.”

Gabriel folded his arms. “You intend to marry for love.”

“I do.”

“You say that with the solemnity of a man taking holy orders.”

“It may require a similar degree of sacrifice.”

Gabriel laughed. “You are twenty-eight, William. You speak as though your mother means to drag you to the altar before breakfast.”

“She scheduled Lady Margaret for luncheon and Lady Sophronia for dinner. I fear the altar may follow supper.”

The servant returned and informed them that the carriage had been brought around.

As William turned toward the doors, his gaze crossed the room once more.

The empty chair remained beside the card table.