“The fruits shall be picked at once,” James fumbled, oblivious to his cousin’s inner turmoil.
“Don’t have them picked on my account,” the Duke replied. “They’re your trees. I’d just suggest that, if you do have them picked, you bring in the nearby villagers to do it. Offer them a portion in exchange for the picking. Make some cider; serve it at your next ball. Make apple pies; serve those too.”
Matilda tilted her head to one side. “You think fine ladies and gentlemen drink cider at balls? I knew you were not what you said you were. Clearly, you are a charlatan.”
“A charlatan?” The ghost of a dark smile lifted one corner of his lips. “I will not argue on that count, Lady Matilda, but Iamthe Duke of Whitecliff.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I did not realize that my visitor was a fountain of riddles.”
“Your betrothed, Matilda,” James hissed, jabbing her in the ribs with his elbow. “It has all been arranged. Of course, Your Grace,” he continued, fixing his adoring gaze on the Duke, “I do not expect you to warm to my cousin right away. She is…taciturn around those she does not know.”
That mysterious smile drifted across the Duke’s lips again. “Then she mustn’t knowyouvery well, James.”
Her cousin had insisted on being referred to by his given name while Matilda had insisted on being referred to as “Miss Elkins.” Thus far, the Duke had abided by James’s wishes, but not hers. It irked her.
James burst out laughing, the sound so high and false that it sent a shudder up Matilda’s spine. “You are very amusing, Your Grace. I assure you, my cousin and I have a very… genial relationship.”
“You are as atrocious a liar as you are a matchmaker,” Matilda shot back.
The Duke halted on the crushed shell pathway through the wisteria and hanging rose archways. “Allow me to guess, Lady Matilda—in your eyes, James is a usurper, even though he is your cousin. Perhaps, you didn’t know one another before he became Earl for whatever reason families grow distant. You believe he has no place here. He inherited instead of you because society is what it is, and now, you’re stuck with one another.” He paused, sweeping a hand across his unkempt hair, the movement revealing more scars hidden beneath his dark locks. “Iam the means of unsticking you both.”
For once, both James and Matilda were matched in their slack-jawed expression.
“I see,” the Duke said, nodding slowly. “Perhaps, I ought to return in a week or so, once the two of you have fought your personal battles.”
James took a few steps back, putting his hands up. “No, no, all is well. Wearegenial with one another. You should walk and converse—do not let me interrupt. Please, continue.”
The Duke shrugged and began walking again. Matilda followed suit though his rude, unnuanced assessment of her had put a black cloud over her head. She did not want him there, and she wanted him there even less if he was going to cast aspersions without bothering to ask for the details.
“I supposeyouare accustomed to battles,” she said sourly. “You must be quite the brawler. Or do you favor duels over petty matters? Does each scar have a drunken story, I wonder? That is what you dukes do, is it not? Amuse yourselves, disgrace yourselves, do as you please until such a time as your family demands that you become respectable—that, of course, is when we ladies find ourselves shackled and dragged to the wedding market like chattel.”
The Duke’s eyes clouded over, his posture straightening. “You do not know me, Lady Matilda. Don’t presume to.”
“But I see right through you, Your Grace,” she retorted. “I know exactly what manner of man you are, and you are not one that I would be bound to, even if you were the last.”
“My scars are so repulsive to you? That’s rather judgmental for a woman who obviously thinks of herself as modern, isn’t it? Weren’t you raised to judge people as they are, not by their exterior?” he said drily.
How did he get them, I wonder?Curiosity was ingrained in her very being, and even faced with a very rude man, she could not subdue it. For scientific purposes, she wished to know what they felt like, how they had been healed, what different healing methods had done to neaten each eventual scar, among other questions that whipped through her head.
Not that she would admit to him that she found his scars and his surprising wit fascinating. She would have married her blasted cousin first.
“It is nothing to do with your scars,” she replied, unable to look him in the eyes. “Undoubtedly, you know how intimidating you appear, and you use it to your advantage to get what you want. All I am saying, Your Grace, is that you shall not have me.”
He struck her with another of his intense stares. “You judge me on the way I present myself, but I have presented myself politely and courteously.Youhave presented yourself with a lack of charm and tact. It’s unbecoming which is unfortunate.”
Because you have decided to sever this arrangement with my cousin?Hope leaped in her chest.
“You’re certainly not what I expected to meet today, nor what I expected for my wife,” he continued. “I think there are things your cousin hasn’t told you.”
She sniffed. “Were you not listening? He does not tell me anything.”
“No, you said no one ever listens,” he pointed out, a prick of embarrassment catching her in her puffed chest. He was right. “You should talk to him, find out what’s at stake. When you have, write to me, and maybe we can do this again with more civility.”
Matilda stood taller though she still did not reach past the tip of the Duke’s shoulder. “No matter what is at stake, I will not bend to his will. Or yours.”
“Talk to him,” was all the infernal Duke said as he turned back and announced, “I’ve just remembered a prior engagement. I’ll send word to you about our agreement. And don’t forget what I said about those orchards.”
He bowed to Matilda and without another word, headed off around the manor as if he knew it well, disappearing out of sight. James looked like he was ready to race after the fellow, but Matilda stuck out her hand, grabbing her cousin roughly.
