Duchess Material

Twenty-One

T he next morning Will locked himself away in his study as soon as he awoke. Luckily, there was always work to be done. Work that would occupy his mind. Work that would give him what Phoebe could not.

Would not.

No. She’d made it perfectly clear that ruination was far preferable to being his wife. In his mad dash to protect her, Will hadn’t considered for even a moment that she would reject him. It had both sorely wounded his pride and called attention to it, which nearly rankled as much as her rejection. He tore open another letter with relish and scanned the note. It was from Lord Tavistock, asking to meet the next day. Will quickly jotted a response and rang for his secretary.

“See that this is delivered directly.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Mr. Flynn said as he took the missive.

Will looked around his desk. “What else is there to do?”

The man shook his head. “Nothing, Your Grace.”

Damn.

“Are you certain?” Will couldn’t be left alone, otherwise he might brood. And he was so damned tired of his own thoughts marching relentlessly through his brain. Of combing through every single moment of the disastrous encounter with Phoebe.

Mr. Flynn glanced at the clock on the mantel. “You’ve been working for the last five hours.”

Will sat back in his chair. The entire morning had slipped away from him.

“Perhaps a light repast? It’s also lovely out.”

Will gave his secretary an arch look. “I do not need to take a turn in the garden like some wilting maiden.”

“Of course not, Your Grace.”

“But I could use something to eat,” he admitted as his stomach roiled with sudden hunger.

“I’ll go tell Cook,” Mr. Flynn said with a bow and left the room.

Will slowly rose from his chair. His body had grown stiff from sitting for so long. He then meandered over to the window and stretched his arms over his head. It did look awfully nice out. Perhaps some fresh air would do him some good.

The door opened again and Will let out a huff. “What now?”

All he wanted was something to eat, but when he turned around Alex was charging into the room. Higgins had long-ago relinquished his gatekeeping duties when Alex showed up, much to everyone’s benefit.

“I’ve something I need to discuss with you,” she said by way of greeting, not at all put off by his sharp tone.

“Alex—I didn’t know you were coming.”

She took a seat on the sofa by the hearth and folded her hands on her lap. “How could you? I only decided this morning.”

Though he was used to Alex’s straightforward manner, he could certainly understand why others found it perplexing. “Right. Well, then,” Will said as he sat down in an armchair across from her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company.”

“Marry me.”

Will blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“We don’t have to actually get married, but an engagement at least would be very helpful,” she said with a nod.

Perhaps Will had started to hallucinate in his famished state. Where the hell was Flynn?

“Why?” He drew the word out.

“Thanks to that blasted Mr. Ericson, Father has gotten it into his head that no one will approve of me taking over the company as a single woman and we’ll lose all our clients. And you know how stubborn he can be.”

“Yes,” Will replied diplomatically. Alex was just as stubborn as her father, if not more so.

“Father is keen to make a deal with these Americans and he’s insisting I make an effort to find a husband, so I only need the engagement to last until the papers are signed and they return to New York,” she went on as that agile mind of hers spun a plan. “Hopefully by then I’ll have shown my mettle and convinced Father and the board I’m up to the task, with or without a man .” She wrinkled her nose as she said the word. “And since you won’t propose to Lady Gwen, I thought you might be willing.” Her eyes then narrowed slightly. “Unless, of course, there is someone else.”

Will shifted in his chair as alarm bolted through him. Her comment was subtle, but then that was just how Alex did things. There was no doubt that he had been found out. “You know I would do anything for you…”

“But not this,” she finished.

As unlikely as it was, a very small, very silly part of him still hoped for the chance to reconcile with Phoebe. And an engagement to her sister, even a fake one, would not help his cause. Perhaps Will was a romantic after all.

“I’m sorry, Alex.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“You don’t seem terribly concerned,” he noted.

“I’m sure I can find someone who would be interested in entering a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Before Will could press on this point, she fixed him with a sharp look. “So then. When will you propose to Phoebe? Tell me what you plan to say first. But if you need help with a ring, you should ask Mother or Freddie. They all look the same to me.”

Will cleared his throat. “Ah, well…” He had skipped over the actual proposal a bit yesterday, hadn’t he? “It might be too late for that.”

He then explained the situation with Lord Fairbanks, his threats against Phoebe, and Will’s plan to save her via marriage—along with her immediate, and unyielding, rejection. Alex listened patiently while he relayed the details with a studious expression on her face, but when he finally finished, she raised one lone eyebrow.

“Well. You certainly mucked that up.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Yes, I can see that.”

She then turned thoughtful. “I had no idea you still felt so beholden to the dukedom.”

Will’s shoulders hunched. That was not the reaction he had expected. “It’s a little hard not to, given that it has occupied my entire life for nearly a decade.”

Alex waved his concern away as if it was a dust mote. “I suppose, but you would hardly be the first duke to make an unconventional match. Why you ever considered Lady Gwen in the first place was a mystery to me. She would have bored you to death before the wedding breakfast was over, poor thing.”

Only Alex could feel pity for someone like Lady Gwen, who lived a life of luxurious comfort and was adored by everyone. Well, nearly everyone.

“But she knew what was expected of a duchess,” Will said, defensive. “And she would have excelled in the position.”

Alex looked unmoved. “You sound like you’re talking about an employee, not a wife.”

Fair point.

Will pulled a hand down his face. He suddenly felt very, very tired. “I just wanted Phoebe to be prepared for what would happen if we married.”

“By insulting her?”

“Of course not,” Will groused. “But you know the gossip would have been relentless: her teaching, her failed season, your father’s family connections, everything about her life would have been henpecked to death. Would you rather I said nothing about it? Paint some fairy-tale picture that would never come to pass?”

“No,” Alex admitted. “Not at all. But you make it sound like you were only proposing to her out of obligation. No self-respecting woman would accept. Frankly, I’m rather proud of her for rejecting you.”

Will pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and let out a groan. “Oh God. I really did bungle this.”

“There, there,” Alex said as she attempted to give him a comforting pat. His valet’s clothes brush was more soothing. He sat up and Alex immediately withdrew her hand. “Do try to have a little faith in her. Phoebe can manage a bit of scandal.”

Will let out a dark laugh. “You’re assuming she would even want to now.”

“Well, I admit that you’ve dug yourself an awfully deep hole, but I’d imagine she would endure far more than a botched proposal for you.” Alex studied him for a moment. “Do you really not know she’s been in love with you for ages?”

He stared back at her as a flash of heat washed over him.

In love.

It was a shock to hear those words spoken aloud. And yet, it was like finding a missing trinket one had lost long ago. Will couldn’t ignore the strange relief that flooded his heart—nor the terrible longing that pulsed even harder. How much he had wanted that once. How much he wanted it still.

“That’s a ‘no’ then,” Alex added with a smug smile. “Goodness, and everyone says I’m terrible at understanding people. But it’s been clear to me since we were children.”

Will sat back in his chair, dazed. All that time.

“I guess I never really considered it,” he said. “She was always so much younger. But then that last summer, before I left, I began to want…”

Something. Anything.

Everything.

He let the unfinished confession hang in the air between them.

“You never told me.”

“Because once I found out I was the heir, it didn’t matter,” Will insisted.

Alex scoffed. “Hogwash.”

“It didn’t seem like that at the time. And I haven’t made a decision without first considering how it would affect the dukedom since,” he admitted, as pathetic as it sounded. “I think that’s why these last few weeks with Phoebe have been so… so exhilarating. I’ve felt more like myself in her company than I have in years.” Then he shook his head. “But she’s made it very clear the prospect of becoming a duchess holds absolutely no appeal to her.”

“Isn’t that preferable though? Someone who actually wants you and not the title?”

Will let out a sigh and stared up at the study’s ornate painted ceiling of Zeus on the throne surrounded by all the lesser gods and goddesses. It was meant to reflect the late duke’s political ambitions, but the painter had possessed more vision than talent. A chubby cherub with bulging blue eyes stared down at Will. Lord, he really did hate this room. “I’m not sure who I am anymore without it.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Alex groused and moved to stand. “If you’re going to be dramatic, I’m leaving.”

“Please don’t.” He managed a weak smile. “I’ll be good.”

“Well, then. What will you do now, Your Grace?”

“I have no idea,” he said. “My plans have all fallen apart. I haven’t a bloody clue what comes next.”

But perhaps he’d start by getting that hideous ceiling painted over. Will let out a gasping laugh. Why had he waited so long to do something so simple?

Alex, unaware of this train of thoughts, looked appalled. “I can’t think of anything more horrid.”

“I’m sure. But even you can’t control everything.”

“I know that ,” she snapped. “That’s why I came here to begin with. But might I suggest you start by being true to yourself, instead of worrying so much about that blasted dukedom? Your fellow aristocrats certainly don’t worry half as much about how their actions reflect on their legacies.”

“It’s different when you’re born to it,” Will grumbled.

“Yes, and you’re different because you weren’t. So stop trying so hard to be like them and embrace who you are.”

Will’s mouth curved. “You’re quite clever, you know.”

“Yes, I do. And everyone would be much better off if they’d only listen to me. Shall I speak to Phoebe?”

Will shook his head. “No, she was right to reject me like you said. I need to become someone she’d actually want to marry first. At least one who knows his own mind.”

Alex rose. “Then you’ve got some work to do.”

“And you have a fake fiancé to find. Just be careful you don’t break some innocent young man’s heart.”

She scoffed again. “I highly doubt that.”

“You’ve always underestimated your appeal.”

Alex avoided his gaze as she tugged on her gloves. “You know why.”

“He was an idiot.”

Alex shook her head. “Only you would call an Oxford don an idiot.”

“Well, he isn’t one anymore.” Will recalled the stormy evening she had turned up at his rooms at Christ Church College soaked to the bone and pale as ivory. It was the only time he had ever seen Alex cry. And only a little. Even when her heart was utterly broken by a careless man. “And he has you to thank for all his success.”

Alex pursed her lips. “He would likely debate that,” she murmured before giving him a weary smile. “I do hope you can make things work with Phoebe. She deserves happiness. And I think she could find it with you.”

Will glanced down. “I need to get reacquainted with myself first, as it were.”

“A fine idea. And don’t worry too much about Lord Fairbanks,” she added with sudden gravity. The gleam in Alex’s eye was unsettling. “I’ll take care of him.”