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“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Your Grace.”
From the tone the Marquess of Rutbridge used to the way he dispensed with the trivial niceties of their class, Daniel could tell that he was not pleased at all to see him.
“Lord Rutbridge, I wish to make an offer for your daughter.”
The Marquess looked at him with a glimmer of anger in his eyes. “I havetwodaughters. You need to be more specific, Your Grace.”
Now, he knew that the Marquess of Rutbridge was being difficult on purpose. As Amy was still not of the age to be married, he was clearly asking after Lady Emily.
“I meant,” he enunciated, “that I wish to make an offer for Lady Emily Montgomery.”
“In that case, you are too late,” the Marquess swiftly put an end to his proposal. “Emily and I have already accepted the offer made by the Viscount of Caney.Hehad no trouble making up his mind whether he wanted Emily or not.”
Incensed at being compared to a scoundrel like Gregory Pratt, Daniel stared stonily at the Marquess. “Unlike him, I care for Lady Emily and would do everything for her happiness.”
The Marquess raised an eyebrow at him. “And what of Lord Caney?”
“He will be withdrawing his offer very soon,” Daniel replied smoothly.If he has any modicum of self-preservation left.
“Am I to assume,” the Marquess smirked, his eyes on the bruise that was on the Duke’s cheek, “that you convinced him over a round of fisticuffs?”
Daniel winced. “He needed a little more…persuasion.”
Considering all that Gregory Pratt had subjected Emily to, Lord Caney should count himself fortunate that Daniel did not break his legs and fingers while he was at it. The very idea of the man dancing with Emily, his hands wandering boldly over her curves, still made the Duke want to break something.
The Marquess stared at him for a good long before breaking out in a reluctant smile. “I am not one to condone violence, but this time, I hope that you gave him all he deserved.”
In Daniel’s estimation, the Viscount of Caney deserved a couple more broken ribs to go with his now broken nose, but any more violence would reflect badly on Emily, so he restrained himself from going over to Gregory Pratt’s townhouse and finishing what he started.
“Not quite,” he finally admitted grudgingly. “Although I can guarantee that he will not be talking ill about Lady Emily for the rest of his…life.”
He actually meant to say “sorry existence” but reminded himself that he was standing before his future father-in-law and needed to make a good impression.
Fortunately, the Marquess of Rutbridge seemed to find this acceptable as he nodded and sat down on his chair. He motioned towards the chair opposite him, and Daniel took it obligingly.
“Now, you must be aware that I do not simply betroth my daughter to any man who asks for her hand in marriage,” the Marquess told him. He looked at Daniel pointedly through his spectacles. “In short, you would need to convince her to marryyou. If she agrees, then we can start discussing terms.”
A father who considers his daughter’s preferences in marriage?Daniel was a little surprised as most noblemen would jump at the chance for their daughters to become Duchesses, regardless of their daughters’ happiness.
“I have to warn you, however,” Lord Rutbridge told him with a grim smile. “My daughter is none too pleased with you at the moment. I do hope you will not be so, ah,forcefulin your persuasion of her.”
“Of course not, Lord Rutbridge,” he reassured the older man.
“In that case, I wish you the best of luck with Emily, Your Grace.” The Marquess paused, and a sly twinkle appeared in his cheerful eyes. “You are going to need it.”
* * *
In contrast to the Duke of Gilleton, Emily woke up late, having slept fitfully through the night before. Due to her impending nuptials, her father had become more lenient with her, and in recent times, it was not uncommon for her to have her breakfast brought up to her rooms late in the morning.
Today, however, she noted that Jenny looked particularly uncomfortable as if there was a pebble or two in her shoes.
“Good morning, Jenny,” she murmured sleepily, languorously stretching out on the bed.
“Good morning, Milady,” the maid muttered, mechanically helping her mistress off the bed before scooting off to prepare for Emily’s ablutions.
Emily moved at a leisurely pace. Now that she was formally engaged to the Viscount of Caney, it was very rare for her to receive callers. The gentlemen who had expressed an interest in her had all backed away, and she was never quite as popular with other ladies of her age. There was Miss Melissa, but she feared that her past relationship with the Duke of Gilleton might put a strain on their friendship.
“Nothing too fancy, Jenny,” Emily told her maid when she saw Jenny lay out a pretty morning dress in pale pink. “I will not be going out today, and I am not expecting visitors, anyway.”
