Page 21 of His Duchess' Deal
“You are not, My Lord.”
Lord Westbury’s eyes narrowed. It was almost a smile.
Cassian had not seen it before. He filed it away.
“Plainly enough, then,” the older man said.
“My Lord, I admire your daughter. I shall make her, in plain terms, the Duchess of Langton. She shall have her own household, her own income, her own carriage, her own staff. She shall have the freedom of my estates and the use of my name. I shall settle on her a sum sufficient to her independent comfort should the worst befall me. I shall, in short, give her every protection my title and my fortune are capable of giving her, and I shall not give her cause to regret accepting it.”
“You speak well, Your Grace.”
“I have had occasion to.”
“And yet I thought, after last night’s spectacle, you would not be the one offering. I thought I would have to demand it.”
Cassian set down his drink. He had been ready for the remark, but he had not been ready to hear it from this man.
He looked at Lord Westbury, who had finally sat down behind his desk and was watching him with the deliberate attention of a man who could not be easily handled.
So that is where she gets it,he thought, with a flicker of surprise.At least one thing of her father’s, but she would never give him the credit for it.
“I have known your daughter for two years, My Lord,” he said carefully. “I have not, in that time, treated her well. I have made my dislike for her friendship with my sister abundantly clear. I have, on more than one occasion, been actively rude to her. I am not in a position to make any romantic claims, and I will not insult either of you by attempting to. What I will say is this: I will be a faithful husband. I will, in time, be a fond one. And this morning, I am the only man in London who can repair what was broken last night.”
Lord Westbury looked at him for a long moment, then nodded once. “You are a strange man, Your Grace.”
“I have been called worse.”
“My wife will be delighted. My eldest daughter will not.”
“I am aware.”
“Very well, then. You have my blessing. You shall have my eldest daughter.”
“No!” The voice came from the other side of the door.
Cassian was on his feet before Lord Westbury had finished turning his head. He crossed the room in three steps, grabbed the handle, and pulled the door open.
Lady Alice fell into his arms. He caught her elbow with one hand and pressed the other hand against the small of her back, steadying her.
He held her longer than was strictly necessary. She was warm against his chest, and the line of her body where it pressed against his hip and waist and side registered before he could decide whether to permit it.
She was wearing pale blue. He had not noticed the color when he had been shown in earlier. Now, he saw it. Her hair was pinned up. There was a loose strand at her temple, and the morning light from the corridor danced across her face. She smelled faintly of lemon.
He looked down at her and realized, with immense shock, that he had been thinking about her for nine hours straight.
A loud, deliberate clearing of a throat broke the moment.
Cassian set Alice on her feet and took a step back with the smoothness of long practice. He frowned, because it was the only natural expression available to a man who had just been caught holding a young woman a count too long, and crossed his arms. Her eyes flicked briefly to the motion and then back to his face.
“Lady Alice.”
“Your Grace.” She flushed, the red hue crawling up the side of her neck and into her hairline. He looked at her face. Her eyes were very green.
“You were eavesdropping,” he said.
“It is hardly eavesdropping when the conversation concerns me, do you not think?”
“Unfortunately, it is still eavesdropping.”
