Page 17 of To Have & To Hold

The duke offered a cautious smile, his eyes softening as they dropped to her hands. “Is it helping?”

Emilia’s gaze followed his to find that her fingers were no longer gripping the chair, but were lying quietly in her lap. If she was being truthful, she did feel a little calmer. Her heart was still fluttering and her mind racing, but she wasn’t struggling for breath.

“I do not understand why you would want to marry me,” she admitted softly. She knew the reality of their situation. The duke hadn’t followed her out into the gardens to make a bold and heartfelt declaration—he had mistaken her for his sister, and once he realized that she was not, he tried to hide the both of them in the hedges to prevent being seen with her.

His offer of marriage had been born of necessity, not romance—not that Emilia had any desire for romance—for the heart above all things was deceptively cruel. But she also knew that as a duke, his reputation could withstand whatever whispers followed them out of that maze. There was nothing for him to gain from the arrangement he had proposed, and Emilia was determined to make sure he knew that.

“Every lady currently standing on the other side of that door would be far more suited to being a duchess, I assure you.”

“I do not want to marry every woman in that room,” he replied. “Quite frankly, I do not want to marryanyof the women in that room.”

Maybe it was the way he spoke plainly that calmed her so easily. With most people, Emilia found she had to decipher themeaning behind their words. What they said, and the tone with which they said it, usually held some sort of contradiction.

This man seemed to say exactly what he meant. There was no flourish to his words. He spoke as though everything were simply a matter of fact. Emilia was not entirely sure what to do with a man so honest—perhaps she should try being honest as well.

“That may be so, but every one of those women wishes to marry you. I have no intentions of marrying at all.”

“Neither did I until a few moments ago,” he replied. “I have no desire to be seen only for my title, or used as the path to higher social influence and financial stability. I no longer trust my heart on a love match, not after…” His words trailed off, and he abruptly cleared his throat before he went on. “It is quite obvious that you did not know who I was, and your reaction assures me that it does not matter to you. What I am proposing is a cordial relationship with a mutual respect for one another.”

Emilia shook her head as she stood from her chair. “I know nothing about being a duchess.”

“I knew nothing about being a duke until I was one.” He stayed seated in his chair, his watchful gaze still focused on her. “I will teach you everything you need to know, which is surprisingly very little compared to everything you think you need to know.”

“Your Grace….”

“Nathaniel,” he stood and crossed to stand in front of her. “My name is Nathaniel.”

Emilia squeezed her eyes shut again. How was any of this possible? She had worked so hard to ensure she could glide through life unnoticed, and now she would be forever tied to one of the most sought-out, influential men in all of England.

“I am not sure I can accept your offer,” her voice shook more than she wanted it to. “I was not even supposed to be here tonight….”

The duke’s lips pressed together, and he startled her by reaching out again for her hands. His touch was so warm, even through the silk of her gloves.

“What was supposed to happen is unfortunately very different from what has happened. By tomorrow, there will be no denying what people will assume did happen.” His low voice brushed against every nerve, soothing it even though the words he spoke made her heart beat faster. She knew she should look up at him, but she was afraid she would crumble again under the gentleness of his gaze.

“The longer we stay hidden in here, the more creative the stories will become,” he continued. “I do not mean this to be cruel, Emilia, but I am your only hope of walking out of this room with your reputation intact.”

Emilia risked looking at him. This was not the closest she had ever been to him, but it was the first time she allowed herself permission tolook at him fully.

His dark hair had most likely started the evening perfectly pomaded and styled back away from his face, but at some point during their series of unexpected events, the soft waves had begun to fall over his forehead and curl around his ears and at the nape of his neck. His light blue eyes should have been chilling, but Emilia could feel nothing but warmth from them. Their softness was a contrast to the strong lines of his jaw, and the strength he held in his broad back and shoulders. He was the picture of perfect nobility. Everything she was not.

“You are a duke,” she whispered through the lump in her throat. “You could walk away completely unscathed, so why do you want to marry me?”

His gaze never wavered from hers. “It is what should be done.”

“Even though I did not ask to be saved?”

“Especially because you did not ask.”

Emilia regarded him closely, but she could not detect a single ounce of insincerity in his expression. There was a gentle plea in his eyes, and she found herself considering his words more carefully. He did not wish to be valued merely for his title, or used as a pawn in someone else's schemes. Did she not understand that better than most?

Perhaps she did have something to offer him after all.

Emilia sighed in defeat, clasping her hands firmly in front of her. “I suppose I do not havemuch of a choice.”

Chapter Seven

Nathaniel had never developed a taste for brandy or port. The number of times he had pulled Oliver out of a drink-induced scrape was enough to dissuade him from trying. He never entertained at home, and when he did, he found that a lack of port was a guaranteed way to ensure any guest did not stay too long after dinner. Nathaniel truly could not remember a time when he thought a moment may be improved upon by a glass—until this one.