Tall, Duke, and Dangerous (Hazards of Dukes #2) - Megan Frampton Page 0,19

hands, dropping it into a basket specifically for that purpose. Then he yanked his sodden shirt over his head, tossing it on top of the linen.

He grabbed the pitcher of water and poured two glasses, handing one to Finan, then sitting in one of the chairs. Finan followed suit, taking a swig from his glass and dragging his chair so it was closer to Nash. “Well?” he said.

“Well.”

Finan shook his head and made noises indicating his irritation during Nash’s recital.

“So you’re going to marry, after all,” he said at last. He tipped his head back in thought. “But why not marry someone you know?”

Nash’s chest tightened at Finan’s words, because of course Nash only knew one unmarried young lady. Mostly because he’d spent the three years of his dukedom specifically avoiding young ladies so as to prevent this whole marital occurrence.

“That Ana Maria is pleasant enough,” Finan said at last. As though Nash couldn’t have thought of the only unmarried young lady himself.

“No.” The word shot out of Nash’s mouth like cannon fire.

Finan’s eyebrows drew up into his hairline. “It sounds like you have a reason. She’s not hideous to look at, so it’s not that.” A pause. Nash thought frantically of what he could possibly say that wouldn’t be the truth—not because Finan wouldn’t understand, but because Nash didn’t want to admit to him, admit to anyone, that he was deathly afraid of exhibiting the same weakness his father had.

He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want people in his life protecting him from potential upset. He would most certainly unleash his fury at that. Which would be the opposite of what anyone wanted.

“Lady Ana Maria is more like a sister to me.” Hopefully that would satisfy Finan.

“A sister who isn’t related to you, who is beautiful and intelligent and seems to like your sullen self,” Finan pointed out. “That’s a rarity, and you might actually be happy at the end of it.”

The words struck more terror into Nash’s heart. Because if he could be happy, he could also be sad. And angry and furious and explosive. It was far better not to care about anything than to risk that possibility.

He’d rather spend the rest of his life keeping everyone—including and especially a wife—at a distance.

“Out of the question,” he said, getting up out of his chair.

“You’re an idiot,” Finan called out after him as he left the room. “And I won the match.”

Nash didn’t bother replying. There was only so much talking a man could do in an evening, after all.

Chapter Six

“I want the peach-colored gown today,” Ana Maria said. She sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair, although Jane kept reminding her that ladies did not brush their own hair.

But Ana Maria did. Another reminder that she might be a lady in name, but she was not a lady in action.

Thank goodness, she thought wryly.

“That one looks more orange to me,” Jane replied. It did not sound as though she liked the orange gown.

“It doesn’t matter what color it is. You know which one I mean, so can you bring it out? Or I can,” Ana Maria said, beginning to rise from her chair.

Jane held her hand out. “No, no, don’t get up. You’re not supposed to be doing any of this.”

“Apparently I’m not supposed to be deciding what gown I wear either,” Ana Maria remarked in a dry tone.

Jane went to the wardrobe and searched through the gowns, Ana Maria watching her in the looking glass. The wardrobe was full to bursting with gowns, nearly all of them new. And brightly colored, not the white it seemed Jane thought was proper.

Though, to be honest, everyone else thought white was proper for a young unmarried lady as well. Except for Ana Maria. She wanted color, riotous color that would make her smile every time she saw herself.

Once she’d succumbed to Sebastian’s constant nagging, she’d let herself be subsumed in the pure delight of it all, visiting modistes and hatmakers and cobblers. He’d footed the bill, and then when he had left, Thaddeus had done the same, insisting on providing her with her own money so she could feel more independent.

Ana Maria thought it also might be so that he didn’t have to bother with it. Thaddeus seemed to dislike bother.

“Where are you going in your orange gown?”

“Peach,” Ana Maria said, rolling her eyes.

Jane brought the gown over, holding it up so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

And, just as she’d hoped, Ana Maria smiled when she saw it.

It had