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“That is common for married couples,” she pointed out.

He shook his head. “I’ve been in an unhappy marriage. My wife was unwilling to be in the country for a day more than she had to, although my responsibilities did not allow me to always live in the city. She returned to London without me.”

“If you would like to marry me because I would put your desires ahead of my own,” Ophelia said, “I think you should return to your former theme.”

“I will put your desires above my own. You love dancing; if you wish it, we can engage a dancing master to bring me up to snuff. What I am saying is that if I was lucky enough to win your hand, you would be my partner, Phee. I know that Sir Peter would agree with me that a true marital partnership is a gift from God.”

“Partnership suggests friendship,” she said. “You declined to be my friend.”

“I wasn’t clear,” he said, frowning. “I want to be so much more than merely a friend. You would be my closest friend, but also my lover. The person I wish to walk beside for the whole of my life.”

“Hmm,” she said. Her eyes were shining, and Hugo felt a flash of hopefulness. “Let’s go back to the question of whether I am more beautiful than Maddie, which is plain absurdity.”

He walked closer to her, unable to resist her smile. “To me, you have the perfect nose.” He kissed it. “I adore your chin.” He kissed it.

“Now I know you’ve lost your mind!” But she didn’t move away.

“Your lips are exquisite,” he whispered, and dropped a kiss on them. “Your eyes are like deep, like . . . like pools of hot chocolate.”

She started giggling again.

“I’m not a poet,” Hugo said. “All I can say is that I am putting my life, my title, my family at your feet, Phee.” He caught her hands in his. “Everything that I am. And fair warning, I shall keep trying to convince you. Last time I saw you, you were adamant that you would have nothing to do with me. But now . . . you allowed me to escort you on this ridiculous errand. You walked into this room with me.”

He held his breath, hoping.

“I don’t like seeing you with another woman,” Ophelia confessed, a delicate wash of pink rising in her cheeks. “I didn’t like it at the Frost Fair either.”

“I won’t marry the lady.” He stated it calmly. “There will never be another woman, if you won’t have me.”

“You had good reasons for courting her, I’m sure.”

“Your refusal was not a good enough reason,” Hugo said. “Lady Woolhastings doesn’t deserve a man who is more than half in love with someone else.”

“Perhaps you deserve more as well,” Ophelia suggested. She took a step toward him. Now they were close enough so that the hem of her skirt brushed his shoe, and he caught a whiff of sweet lemon from her hair.

“I love that you don’t wear a wig,” he said. “Damn it, you make me feel as unbalanced as a lad of fifteen.”

Watching her eyes carefully, he took the last step toward her and his arms closed around her. “If you marry me, you’ll lose a part of your freedom,” he said, his voice roughening. “The life of a duchess is not easy, although I will do everything in my power to provide you as much privacy as I am able. I own a large castle and the grounds are protected from the public. We can do as we wish there.”

Ophelia met his eyes and then cupped his face in her hands, came up on her toes, and brushed his lips with hers. “I think I might give up my freedom for you. What would I miss?”

“Had I met you while I was married to Yvette and you were married to Sir Peter, I would have said freedom was the right to love you, body and soul. Beautiful, wanton body and proper, delightful soul,” he clarified.

“I may choose to use my minutes learning how to love you.” Her eyes twinkled. “Or I may not.”

Her hands fell away and she stepped back. “Your Grace, we must return to the drawing room or our absence will be marked.”

Blood was running hot in Hugo’s veins. He had a cockstand that was definitely not hidden by his cutaway waistcoat, and probably wasn’t going anywhere as long as Ophelia was within an arm’s length.

She raised a finger. “We cannot embarrass Lady Woolhastings. You must extract yourself from your obligations, no matter how ephemeral, before you pay me so much as a morning call.”

A smile burst over his face, together with a wild surge of lust. “After we marry, we shall retire to my castle and live there for a month—six months!—no society, just the two of us.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And a nursery full of children?” But she looked pleased. “I shall take your request into consideration.”

“May I kiss you, please, Phee?”

She shook her head. “I would not kiss a man who is nominally another woman’s.”