talk him out of handing her a tiara? Robert was certain that his malady meant nothing to her, on the order of being left-handed or having a poor memory for numbers. The world did not share her opinion. She knew exactly what the world thought of men who became insensate without warning and dramatically lost control of their limbs.
“I know that you love your art,” he said, “and I’d be dealing with your family anyway because of Nathaniel’s marriage to Althea. Is there another reason why you hesitate, Constance?”
She looked around the orchard, a beautiful place, now that Robert had stopped longing to return to the Hall. The cherry trees were leafing out in a gauzy green canopy to the left, the plums were in full bloom overhead, while the apples waited their turn to the right. Spring in all its glory imbued the hilltop with light and hope, and the promise of succulent fruit in a few months’ time.
“I do not hesitate on my own behalf,” she said. “I am surprised, is all. We have known each other in some ways for but a very short time.”
“And in other ways,” he said, holding out his hand to her, “I know no woman better than I know you. I esteem no woman more highly than I esteem you. Be honest with me, please. I have been precipitous, I know, but my regard for you is genuine and time, unfortunately, is of the essence. If you cannot be happy with me, say so, and we will remain friends.”
He’d keep that promise, somehow. Constance deserved every happiness and he was asking much.
She took his outstretched hand. “I will be happier with you than I could be with anybody else, but please give me three days to contemplate the question. I expect I will accept, but I have learned caution, and I must be certain my choice is not a triumph of selfish impulse over consideration for a man I esteem greatly.”
She didn’t want to take advantage of him. Of all the outlandish…“You are concerned that you are somehow inadequate to marry me?”
She gave a terse, self-conscious nod. “I am no bargain, Your Grace. I lack charm, I lack…much.”
“And have I any charm to speak of?” Robert paced away and marched back to her. “Do I command any respect in the Lords? Am I a host of any renown? I cannot waltz, I have no small talk, I will not drink a full glass of port to save myself, I have never driven a dog cart, much less a high perch phaeton, nor have I sat a horse since childhood. Some duke I am, but I will make it my life’s work to ensure that we suit. I promise you that.”
He kissed her then, really, truly kissed her, wrapping her in his arms and silently vowing that he would make her happy, that he would make her dreams come true…once she confided to him what those dreams might be.
“Are we going shopping?” Althea asked. “Or am I spending most of the morning on my own, then meeting you at the coach and pretending you never left my side?”
A fair question, considering Constance had asked exactly that of her sister any number of times. Beyond the coach window, the outskirts of York went by in the usual procession of drab granite edifices and cramped cobblestone lanes.
“We will shop, but I have an errand to see to first,” Constance said. “Whenever I return here, I always fear I will see Jack Wentworth lounging outside one of the disreputable inns, trying to look handsome and rakish, and mostly looking evil.”
“I try not to think of Jack Wentworth at all.”
Constance considered her sister, who’d returned from yesterday’s outing to Crofton Ford quite late and humming Handel. “Have you succeeded in evicting Jack from your mind?”
Althea became fascinated with the dreary shops beyond the coach window. All the bright sunshine in the world could not make York look less medieval.
“I’m doing better lately,” Althea said. “Better at putting the past behind me. I’ve told Nathaniel about a lot of it. About Jack, the begging. The men. I thought telling Nathaniel the particulars would bring it all back, but instead…It’s like I handed over a heavy burden to my intended, and he was able to set it aside for me. There are good people in the world, Constance. Lots of them.”
Sometimes, goodness was not enough. “But where were those good people when Jack Wentworth broke Stephen’s leg? When Jack