She saw her father raise his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything, of course. There was nothing hecouldsay. But she knew he was wondering about what she was doing. He hadn’t expected this from her—that she would cooperate like this. He wasn’t used to that, and she supposed he didn’t know what to think.
Good. She liked confounding him. She liked knowing that he didn’t know what she was up to. Because she most certainly was up to something. She might not be able to get rid of the Duke by being rude to him, but there was another way—one her father might not be savvy enough to understand until it was too late for him to stop her.
“I hear good things about you, Miss Lydia,” the Duke said, and Lydia wondered if that could be true.
It was difficult to imagine her father praising her to someone, although she supposed he must have done so in order to convince the Duke that he wanted to marry her.
“What have you heard?” she asked flirtatiously, because she knew that her father would never answer that question.
“That you were lovely,” the Duke replied. “And it’s turned out to be the truth. I’m very pleased.”
With her blonde hair, blue eyes, and slender frame, Lydia knew that she was what men liked. It didn’t surprise her to hear that he found her looks favorable. But she had yet to meet a gentleman who looked beyond that, who cared about who she was as a person.
The fact that looks were the first thing the Duke had mentioned about her strengthened her resolve to push him away. If she’d learned that her father had said something else to entice him, something that mattered more, she might have felt differently. But she couldn’t trust a man who put such stock in what a lady looked like.
Looks were only temporary, for one thing—who was to say how he would feel several years from now when she was no longer beautiful? That wasn’t a chance she was willing to take. He couldn’t be trusted.
So, she smiled at him alluringly. “I’m just happy that Father was able to bring home a duke for me!” she enthused. “I’m so excited at the prospect of becoming a duchess, Your Grace. That sounds wonderful.”
Let them make what they could of that.
She was showing enthusiasm. Her father might understand what was wrong with the way she was doing it, but would he be bold enough to stop her with the Duke sitting right in front of them?
He glowered at her—apparently, he meant to make the attempt, at least. “Lydia,” he hissed, “don’t be disrespectful.”
Lydia could tell by her father’s demeanor that he was as intimidated by the Duke’s commanding presence as she herself had been when he’d first come in, but her father didn’t seem to be recovering himself as quickly as Lydia had.
“I mean no disrespect at all!” she argued. “If anything, Father, it’s just the opposite. I think it will be lovely to be a duchess! I can hardly wait for the opportunity to begin my new life. It’s the kind of thing every little girl dreams of.”
“Do you mean to say,” the uke asked, his brow furrowed, “that your main interest is in my title? That you aren’t perturbed by the fact that you and I don’t know one another?”
“We’ll get to know one another,” Lydia said dismissively. “It doesn’t matter all that much, does it?”
That ought to do the trick!
Surely a comment like that would be enough to make him see that she wasn’t what he wanted. Surely he would tell her father that the arrangement had been a mistake and would run for the door. She sat back in her chair in satisfaction, waiting for her work to have the desired effect.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace,” her father apologized. “She’s a bit over-excited, as you can see—she doesn’t really mean the things she’s saying. She doesn’t mean to say that your title matters more to her than your character.”
What a silly thing to leave Father’smouth when we both know that he caresfarmore about the Duke’s title than about his character!
Lydia could hardly believe her father was sitting there acting as if it would be strange to have such priorities—but, of course, he was trying to ensure that the Duke wouldn’t be offended and decide to end their arrangement.
But the Duke just smiled. “Never fear, Lord Haddington,” he said. “I’m glad Miss Lydia is so eager at the prospect of becoming a duchess. After all, that will be her life once we marry, and I do want her to be happy in it. It’s never my desire to cause anyone distress.”
Lydia blinked, stunned. That wasn’t the way she’d expected him to react. He was supposed to be angry that all she cared about was the title she was going to gain. He wasn’t supposed tolikeit.
“Of course, it isn’t,” Lord Haddington agreed. “And I’m sure the two of you will come to know one another—and love one another—in due course. That kind of thing comes with time. I thank you for your patience with my daughter.”
“Your daughter has said nothing that worries me,” the Duke assured him. “In fact, I’m more certain of the wisdom of this match than ever.”
How could this have happened? Was he lying? But she saw no reason for him to. There was no motive—he had to be telling the truth, little though she liked to believe it. Somehow, in trying to drive him away, she had made him want her more! How had that happened?
Lydia was furious, both with herself and with the Duke. She could hardly speak for the rest of the time he was there. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to need her to say anything. The Duke and her father discussed the terms of the marriage without including her in the conversation at all. After a while, she stopped listening to them altogether.
What difference did it make? Nothing she had said had affected the outcome of this meeting. Nothing she could say would change anyone’s mind. She was to be married to the Duke, and the reality of that sank in slowly, like a weight in her gut.
She didn’t want to marry him.
