A solution, perhaps. I want to escort you to a house party in Northumberland.”
“A house party?” What type of daft solution was he proposing?
“My mother hosts a party every year. The entire affair is respectable and more than suited for our purpose.”
“Forgive me if I sound ungrateful. I do appreciate the invitation, but how is a house party suited to our purpose?” And what purpose would that be?
“There will be many eligible bachelors attending.” He raised his eyebrows and gestured to her as if to ask, isn’t it obvious?
It wasn’t, at least not to her.
When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “I could provide information about each gentleman—his disposition, family, financial standing—then facilitate an introduction. You could find a replacement husband then break off our agreement without anyone knowing we never intended to marry.”
“I see you have given this thought.” He may have meant no harm, but his desire to foist her off onto another gent stung. Especially after the lovely day they had shared.
He smiled broadly, appearing proud. “A respectable match should keep your brother happy and you out of the convent, and I would be released from my father’s promise without breaking his word or tarnishing your reputation. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”
Tightness coiled in her chest, and she absently smoothed a hand over her heart. “I’m not sure Ash would grant his permission. He thought it best to secure a betrothal without presenting me.”
“Did he now?” Foxhaven’s intense blue eyes bore into her. “For what reason?”
She shrugged one shoulder and looked away. It was wrong to hide the truth, but she had been unfairly judged and she needed this match with him. “You must admit I am different from other young ladies. I could never expect to have a successful Season with my tendency to act before thinking.”
This had been a problem for her since she was a child. Patrice had promised she would outgrow it, but she never had.
His jaw lost its hard edge and warmth radiated from his smile. “You are a breath of fresh air, Lady Vivian. Gentlemen will issue challenges to win your favor.”
“Liar,” she teased, her cheeks flushing with pleasure despite knowing he falsely flattered her. “When it comes to a choice between death and marriage to a hoyden, no one is winning in this scenario.”
“You underestimate your charms.”
And he underestimated other gentlemen’s ability to be like him. He might not run away in horror, but that didn’t mean other men wouldn’t.
“Perhaps I could persuade your brother to allow you to attend the party, but only if you give your consent. I won’t ask you to do this if it isn’t what you want.”
“Oh.” No one had ever requested her opinion on anything pertaining to her future, and she had certainly never been asked to give her permission. Tears stung the back of her eyes.
“What is your answer, my lady? Will you allow me to find a husband for you?”
She nodded slowly, repressing her silly sentiments. It meant nothing that he was showing her kindness. He still wanted to be rid of her.
“Splendid,” he said. “I will dictate a letter to your brother this evening.”
She accepted his outstretched hand and climbed to her feet. His fingers linked with hers, and he held on as they strolled to the curricle. She glanced sideways at him, trying to puzzle him out. With every word, he said he wanted to be free of her, but his actions conveyed his reluctance.
A stirring began in her heart; a question. What if he wasn’t yet aware he wanted her for his wife?
Her relentless imagination refused to slumber as he lifted her into the carriage, his touch lingering on her waist. Courtship of a man—a duke—required bravery and more than a trace of foolishness. Fortunately, she possessed the later in abundance.
“Thank you, Luke.”
His nostrils flared briefly before his neutral mask slipped back in place. Now that he wasn’t attempting to persuade her, perhaps he wanted to retract the offer to further their intimacy.
She took her place on the bench. “Do I still have leave to use your Christian name?”
“Of course, Lady Vivian.” He bounded into the carriage as sure-footed as an acrobat, sank down beside her, and retrieved the reins.
“You may call me Vivian if you like.”
Luke nodded once then signaled the grays to return to the lane. As the carriage bumped over a rut, her attention turned to a possible hitch in her plan.
She had no idea how to go about courting a man.
Eight
Luke