The Gift of Love (The Book of Love #8) - Meara Platt Page 0,28
petty action will hurt the entire Royal Navy. We cannot allow it to happen.”
“Would he really do something so hurtful?”
Ronan shook his head. “I sincerely hope not, but it is quite possible. The Lord Admiral is very concerned. He is going to try to talk sense into father and daughter, but we doubt it will work. Lady Melinda won’t stop planting those fake gossip items in the rags until her marquess offers for her hand.”
“Surely her father knows this.”
“Perhaps, but Lady Melinda and I have a history.”
“You do?”
“Not much of one, I assure you. But the longer the gossip lingers, the more suspicious her father will become. It’s already happening. He must have said something to the Lord Admiral to send him into a fit.”
“What exactly is your history with Lady Melinda? I know you do not wish to discuss it, but if I am to consider helping you, then I must be aware of what is going on.”
“Very well, I’ll tell you.” He motioned for her to take a seat, but she sensed their meeting might come to an abrupt halt over this discussion and preferred to remain standing. Ronan did not appear pleased but continued. “She was hoping to make more out of our friendship at one time. I escorted her to several parties. The duke noticed and quickly put an end to it.”
“So, there was something between the two of you.”
“No, not on my part. I quickly saw she was not right for me. However, the possibility that she wants me and not the marquess has to be stuck in the back of her father’s mind. The longer her game goes on, the more suspicious he becomes.”
“What if her desire for the marquess is a ruse, and you are really the one she wants?” Dahlia realized this book was already working its magic for Ronan. He was about to get the duke’s daughter to marry him after all.
Of course, he’d have to hide the fact until after the vote.
But once the vote was behind them?
“I don’t think so, Dahlia. Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Would it be so terrible if she did want you? This is your chance to marry into a higher circle. She is the duke’s only child, isn’t she? He will never disown her. And once you are married, he will do all in his power to support you because he loves his daughter and will want to keep her happy.”
“She is pampered. Spoiled. Headstrong. Absorbed in her own comforts rather than of those less fortunate. She is not a terrible person, mind you. But as I said, she just isn’t right for me.”
“She is beautiful and wealthy.”
“So? This might make her desirable to most men, I suppose. But not for me. Why are you pushing me toward her? I’m not interested, nor will I allow her to destroy all I’ve worked for to indulge her game. The Lord Admiral has asked me to find a young lady to court. Someone beautiful, intelligent, and of good upbringing, because it has to be convincing.”
Dahlia nibbled her lip. “Oh, I see. And this is why you are here tonight. You want me to help you come up with a name?”
He laughed softly. “I have the name.”
It was her turn to appear surprised. “You do? Then what do you need me for?”
“Lord, are you purposely being dense? You are the name.”
“Me?” He had to be in jest. “Do be serious. Shall I call in Heather and Violet? If we all put our heads together, we might be able to find you someone suitable.”
He took her hand to stop her when she turned toward the door. “Dahlia, I meant what I said. You are the one. I am choosing you.”
Her heart shot into her throat. “Are you mad? Do you hear yourself? Of all the young ladies in London, I am the worst choice possible.”
“Why?” He still had hold of her hand, his touch sending tingles shooting through her body.
“I am a laughingstock. Gerald humiliated me and dumped me. All of London must be aware of this by now. How will Lady Melinda’s father ever believe you? I doubt even the local rat catcher will believe I am the object of your fascination.”
“Why is it so improbable? You and I get on well, don’t we? You are beautiful and clever. I always feel comfortable around you. I like your liveliness and wit.”
She tried to ease her hand out of his grasp, but he would not let go. He’d been holding