The Duke shrugged. “Morbid curiosity. Besides, your older brother Peter seems to think that you are a good match.”
Deborah chuckled yet again. “Well, I suppose you should tell Peter that I haven’t quite made up my mind.”
Instead of feeling relief, Henry felt annoyed that her answer wasn’t an immediateno. He was appalled on her behalf that she was even considering someone like that man.
But more so, he was irritated that she had even considered picking Lord Macaulay over him.
“That is surprising,” he said, trying to keep his cool. “After all, you seem to not take too long in forming opinions. At least, that is the impression I have of you so far.”
“You’re right.” She smiled. “I have made up my mind about Lord Macaulay.”
The Duke felt his heart beat faster in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it back again. Thankfully, the music gave him the reprieve he needed, and he spun her around.
When she spun into his arms, he brought his lips close to her ear for a brief moment and whispered, “What did you decide?”
His tone was soaked in honesty. He had never felt so vulnerable as he did at that moment. It was almost as if he had asked her if she was interested in marrying him, and not Lord Macaulay.
She shuddered under his touch but regained her composure quickly as they went back to dancing.
“Well, I suppose it’s not much of a surprise to anyone, but I have no intention of getting married to Lord Macaulay.”
Relief washed over the Duke, and a bright smile tugged at his lips. Deborah took notice of this and raised a sharp eyebrow at him.
“Is there a reason why that pleases you, Your Grace?”
“Oh, I was only feeling happy for that poor chap, Lord Macaulay,” the Duke replied, causing her to roll her eyes.
“Well, he can do as he pleases. As far as I am concerned, I want to resume writing my book.”
She looked so focused and determined every time she spoke of her writing, he couldn’t help but be in awe of her.
“And as far as Lord Macaulay is concerned, he was not supportive of my writing dreams.”
“That is quite a shame.”
“I am convinced most men think that way.” She sighed. “Would you let Lady Joanna write if she wants to?”
The Duke nodded. “Of course. That is her choice entirely.”
Deborah stared at him, surprised. “Oh…”
“Is that the only reason why you choose to not get married?”
Deborah bit her lower lip, and he dipped. When she straightened again, she nodded.
“Writing was my first love. I don’t think it’s fair to give up on it just to pursue a man,” she said. “Marriage will only prove to be an obstacle and come in the way.”
The quartet concluded their piece, and the dance ended. The Duke found himself simmering with more questions for Deborah, but she bid him farewell and walked away quickly. He was left staring at her retreating figure.
This was the woman he loved. But not the one he was supposed to marry. He had a duty to fulfill.
* * *
Deborah slipped away as soon as the dance ended. Being in such proximity to the Duke caused her head to go in a tizzy. It didn’t feel fair that she felt so connected to him every time that they spoke, and yet, she was not the woman that he had chosen for himself.
Feeling dejected, she made her way to the corner of the ballroom, keeping her head down. A few gentlemen came up to her, asking for a dance, but she declined instantly by making up some excuse.
When she saw Lord Macaulay walk over in her direction, however, she knew she had to disappear from the ballroom. She rushed over to the retiring room, where some ladies were fixing their makeup and powdering their noses.
