Page 2 of Unmask Me My Love

“Not that he’s said. He certainly looks robust enough to achieve his century.” Hal wouldn’t mind that. His father had always done well by him, and he’d grown rather fond of having him around, except for his latest lunacy. “I suspect it is either a strange whim, born of some chance article in the Times, or else his cronies at his club have been talking about their heirs having been leg-shackled and setting up their nurseries.” He shuddered. Marriage might be palatable, but offspring while he was still in his prime didn’t sit well at all.

“Can you not simply tell him you haven’t found the right woman?” Celinda’s sympathetic tone encouraged him.

“Unfortunately, no. He’s like a horse with the bit in his teeth. I’ve been given the ultimatum of finding a bride by the end of the Season, or he will arrange a marriage for me.” To even speak the words made his blood run cold. His father was the last person on earth he wanted choosing his wife.

“And you want to marry me?”

He wasn’t sure how to take the strained incredulity in her voice. “I think we would suit better than most couples. We’ve known each other all our lives, as you pointed out. Our families would quite likely declare a national holiday. Or try to.”

She giggled at that. So much the better.

“We do get on well. You have to agree. And you take my eccentricities in your stride.” He gestured to his shirt and smiled. “That alone makes me want to marry you.”

She averted her eyes, her mouth puckering.

Was she about to laugh or cry? He leaned toward her and grasped her hand, determined to press his suit. “Lady Celinda, will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”

After one stricken, blue-eyed glance, she burst out laughing. She turned away, and her white-clad shoulders trembled as she got herself under control.

Not the response he’d hoped for, certainly, but he wouldn’t let it dampen his spirits. It had been a spur of the moment gamble and would’ve been a convenient answer to a worrisome problem. He hoped the music masked Celinda’s hysterics. It wouldn’t do for them to be discovered thus, especially as she’d now rejected him.

“Halford, I’m sorry.” She faced him, biting her bottom lip. Her eyes, bright with tears of laughter, also held a trace of sadness. “Truly I am.”

“It’s quite all right,” he said, assuming an injured air. Let her feel guilty, for a moment, at least. “I’m used to ladies laughing in my face when I propose.” Actually, he’d never proposed to anyone before, but she couldn’t know that.

“Can you forgive me?” She laid her hand on his arm and drew him to a bench set against the balcony wall. “I simply did not expect such a declaration from you, of all people.”

“Well, I trust you do not respond so to every man who asks for your hand.” He tried to look sternly at her, but it kept wanting to turn into a lopsided grin. Apparently, he couldn’t be harsh to Celinda.

“As you have the distinction of being the first man ever to do so, I have to answer yes.” She smiled and squeezed his arm. “Halford,” she said as they sat, moving a little away from him and withdrawing her hand. “I am not unaware of the great honor you’ve done me by asking me to be your wife. And I hold you in the highest regard. You are handsome, witty, kind. Everything a woman would want in a husband. However, I need to have a passionate regard for the gentleman I choose to spend my life with, not merely friendship.”

“That is the fashion, I understand.” Several of his friends who’d married recently had expressed the same sentiment about their wives. “Could passion not grow between us? You are a devilishly attractive woman, Celinda.” He gave her his most charming smile and snared her fingers. “You might grow fond of me, and I’m sure I could grow quite fond of you.” He lifted her hand and placed an ardent kiss upon it.

“I am certain you would, Lord Halford.” She snatched her hand back and rose so abruptly he had to grab the bench to keep from sprawling across it. “I, however, want to know that passion exists before I say yes.” She paced the small balcony in short, sharp strides. “I want to love a man so desperately I’d do anything to be able to marry him.” Her eyes flashed darkly, and the bright spots of color rose in her cheeks once more.

Hal sighed. Tempting as this avenue to marriage had seemed, it appeared a dead end. “Have you found this great passion then?”

She stopped and cut her eyes toward the railing. “Perhaps.” A shake of her head, and she resumed her pacing. “I’m not quite sure. I’ve thought so before and been disappointed. This time, however, I intend to brook no interference from Papa.”

“Parents have that annoying habit, don’t they? I wonder if it is part of their sworn duties?” His father seemed to think so.

She grasped his arm, her smile warm again. “I’m sure I will never so impede my children’s happiness.” Her hand was firm and comforting. “I am truly honored, Halford, that you would make me your marchioness.”

He grinned at her and patted her hand. “Call me Hal. My friends do. And since you’ve turned me down, we’re at least that.” He inclined his head. One last little temptation. “You’d be my duchess in due time as well, don’t forget.”

She nodded. “I know. I somehow think I would not be the best duchess.”

“You will be the best at whatever you choose to be, cousin.” He meant that. Celinda was one of the dearest women of his acquaintance. She would be brilliant no matter if she married a cook or king.

“You are quite the sweetest man.” She darted forward and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “A true Roi Charmant. I cannot wait for you to find your princess.”

“You mean duchess, don’t you?” Either way—princess or duchess—she was right that life with a woman for whom he’d do something desperate would be more than exciting. Like the fairy-tale endings.

“I mean, I want you to find your own true love.” Celinda stilled, her head cocked toward the balcony. “The music has stopped. I must go down.”

To find her own true love, he’d wager. “Yes, your cousin will be looking for you.”

“Kate?” She frowned, the name seeming a puzzle to her, then her eyebrows rose. “Yes, yes, Kate will want to tell me all about Lord Finley’s dance.” The feverish color had returned to her face. Blushes certainly became Lady Celinda.