AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yet you still regard this fool?”
“If I should marry, I would want it to be this gentleman.”
“Who is he?” leaped from Percy’s mouth like a growl before he could prevent himself from the reaction.
“As if I would make such a confession to you.”
Bloody hell. “Why not? Is he unsuitable?”
“He holds a respectable rank and fortune. Some might even say impressive.” An unfathomable look entered her eyes. “He does not notice me in any regard, and I cannot but think I need to do something to make him see me.”
“You only need to tell me his name, and I will make the necessary introductions.” After a thorough investigation into the man’s habits, of course.
She arched an elegant brow and pursed her lips. “Do you truly believe you can simply command someone to marry me, and they will do so?”
“I have power and influence, Frederica,” he said with ruthless assurance. “Many will be happy to align with my family.”
Her eyes softened. “Except you are not my fam—”
“You are my family,” he said with implacable firmness. “You will avail yourself of the full weight of my rank and position within the ton. Now tell me who this buffoon whom you long for is, and I will see that his eyes open and remain so.”
She stared at him, and he was glad to see the amusement dancing in her eyes. He said no more, not wanting to scare her with the measure of his power and connections within society. If she wanted a damn duke, he would see her marry a duke.
“I daresay if you are this concerned about me getting married, you should be happy to help me land my husband.”
“That is what I am doing, sweetheart.”
Her cheeks pinkened at his careless endearment, and he stilled at the unusual reaction. Something primal stirred inside him, and with a savage snarl, he slammed the door shut. She raked slim, graceful fingers through her short curls. When her hair had been shoulder-length, her habit had been to tuck loose wisps behind her ear. Her hair looked newly cut. It framed her round, pretty, wide-eyed face in short, soft, shining curls. She was rather pretty.
“Telling me I must marry soon and well is not helping me.”
He bit back a curse at her challenging smile.
“Did you not know that many in society see me as a poor unfortunate orphan, who is little more than a poor relation living at your largess? There is no benefit to being associated with a marquess…especially such a rakish…one if I am not directly related to all that wealth.”
“Are you always this frank with your tongue?”
The laughter about her eyes and mouth deepened. “You have cause to doubt it after being almost my papa for nearly two years?”
Percy scowled, and the minx smirked, knowing she somehow had gotten under his skin. Why was she able to get under his skin when no other person could do it with such effortless ease?
She leaned back in the large Rosewood armchair, drumming her fingers on the padded armrest. “Many call me a wallflower, and I suppose I am. I am never asked to dance at balls, especially after it made the rounds that I disgraced myself by tripping when I danced with you. I’ve heard many say I am only passably pretty and that I am too short, my dimples are too deep, and my eyes too blue.”
He leaned forward in the chair. “Freddie—”
She held up a hand. “No need to interject with words of support, my lord. Of course, I know I am ravishing…” A very deliberate pause, and then she said, “in my own way, of course.”
She smiled, and his damn heart stuttered. Ravishing in her own way was the truth of the matter. Whenever Freddie smiled or became animated with chatter and laughter, she glowed with a rare beauty he had never seen in another woman. He wanted to tell her so, but Percy bit back the words lest they were construed wrongly. Or, in this case, more correctly as a man who had noticed her and who had even had one or two dreams about her. Fucking hell. Now was not the time to think about those sweaty and very improper dreams. He would one day burn in perdition for this, he thought darkly. “Freddie—”
“I believe the gentleman I hope to marry is immune to my charms because of my distinct lack of sensual appeal.”
Sweet mercy. What the fuck did she know about sensual appeal. “Freddie—”
“I gather you understand the direction of my thoughts, my lord?”
“Truly, I am baffled,” he said gruffly, hoping his wild imaginings were wrong.
“I must learn the art of enticing a gentleman.”
