Page 90 of Unmasking the Diamond
“Yes,” he said, far too cheerfully. “And it was rather telling.”
She groaned. “You and Jane are both insufferable.”
“Perhaps,” he said, a smug smile playing on his lips.
Reaching for the door handle, she replied, “You do realize that Luca and I do not require a chaperone since we are engaged.”
“I thought it was a sham engagement,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“It is.”
“Does Lord Luca know that? Or more importantly…” His grin widened. “Do you still wish it to be?”
Charlotte’s spine went rigid. “Luca is the last man I would ever marry.”
“Very well,” Alistair said with exaggerated mildness. “I won’t mention it again.”
She was nearly out the door when he added in that infuriatingly casual tone of his, “But—if you dochange your mind about Lord Luca, neither Jane nor I would be opposed.”
“I won’t,” she snapped, and before he could say anything else irredeemably foolish, she swept from the study.
Her footsteps echoed through the corridor, her pulse quick and unsteady. The mere thoughtof marrying Luca Dexter was absurd. Entirely absurd.
It was, wasn’t it?
Luca stood before the looking glass, adjusting the crisp folds of his white cravat until the knot sat precisely at his throat. He tugged once more at the ends, satisfied. The clock upon the mantel chimed the half-hour, a gentle reminder that he had little time left to linger. A curious flutter stirred low in his chest—not nerves, but a quiet anticipation. He would see Charlotte again this evening.
It was a peculiar feeling, one he had not allowed himself to name. Earlier that day, she had been… different. Unmasked. Vulnerable. It had felt as though she were beginning to trust him, to believe that he would never betray her confidence.
A knock sounded. His valet, who had been quietly rearranging the bedchamber, crossed to open the door. Jude entered, his expression a mixture of irritation and curiosity.
“I was just informed,” his brother began, “that you will not be joining us for dinner this evening.”
“That is correct.” Luca turned from the mirror, smoothing his waistcoat. “I am dining with Charlotte and her family.”
Jude crossed his arms. “I thought you had no intention of marrying the chit.”
Luca gave a faint smile. “It is… complicated.”
His brother released a dramatic sigh. “Another poor soul caught in the parson’s mousetrap.”
Luca chuckled. “I thought that was precisely what you wanted—for me to marry and produce an heir.”
“Yes, but I had hoped we might enjoy a few more years of bachelorhood together before you abandoned me.”
“I am hardly abandoning you,” Luca said with a grin. “If—and that is a rather largeif—I can convince Charlotte to marry me, we shall reside here until we find our own home.”
“Wonderful,” Jude muttered. “A newlywed couple under my roof. My joy knows no bounds.”
Luca arched a brow. “Do you object to me marrying her?”
“I cannot say that I understand what you see in Miss Winslow,” Jude admitted, his tone clipped but not unkind. “But I trust your judgment.”
“She is nothing like the world believes her to be,” Luca replied. “Beneath the poise and polish, she is kind, clever, and surprisingly tenderhearted.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. You will see it for yourself soon enough.”
