The Clarendon Rose (20 page)

Now, as she returned her attention to her own embroidery, Miss Smye revisited that subject, to Tina’s dismay.
 
“I do think Mr. Northrop was struck by you, Miss Merri.
 
He seems an altogether promising young man, don’t you agree?”

Tina did not agree, for Mr. Northrop seemed rather unpleasant and obsequious to her, despite the man’s moderately good looks.
 
Of course, given the fact that she found herself thinking about a certain pair of mesmerizing, fire-eaten dark eyes with distressing frequency, she acknowledged that she was not in a particularly good position to judge such things.

“Of course, I don’t think we should be too quick to dismiss Mr. Quizzing, despite his rather unfortunate last name.
 
His one failing, I would say, is his sad lack of a sense of humor.
 
You must have noticed yourself how unamused he seemed when I asked him if he was quizzing me yesterday—yes, I know, it’s funny, isn’t it?” Miss Smye interrupted herself with a chuckle, for Tina had emitted a snort of laughter at the reminder of the young man’s disgruntled expression.
 
“But he never seems amused, and you know, I’ve used it with him several times now, just in case he’s one of those unfortunate people who doesn’t get a joke the first time he hears it.
 
I’ve a mind to stop bothering with it soon, you know.”

“Perhaps that would be best, Miss Smye,” Tina managed as she tried to sew a tidy stitch while holding back her laughter.
 
The unfortunate Mr. Quizzing had given Miss Smye a look of such intense dislike in the wake of that joke, when he thought no-one was looking, that Tina couldn’t help but have pity on the man.
 
“If he lacks the ability to understand humor, then to continue such things would be akin to taunting him.”

“Quite right my dear.
 
Poor fellow.
 
Perhaps he’s not quite suited to you, then, what do you think?”

Before Tina was forced to formulate a response, they were interrupted by a knock at the front door of the cottage.
 
Meg bustled by to answer it, but though the voice of the caller was clearly masculine, they were unable to hear anything of the conversation.

So why then did Tina feel an odd frisson upon hearing those deep tones?
 
She couldn’t even make out the sound of the voice itself, but something in her sat up to eager attention.
 
Wishful thinking, you fool,
she told herself with irritation.
 
And you’ll stop it now.
 
To what end would he have come here anyway?
 
No doubt it was the ingratiating Mr. Northrop calling, she concluded with a sigh.
 

Still, it seemed an eternity before Meg entered the room with a curtsey.
 
“A caller for Miss Merriweather—and a very fine gentleman he is too,” she added, causing a weight to drop in Tina’s stomach.
 
But still, she held herself back from hoping.
 

“His name, dear?” Miss Smye asked kindly.
 

“He wouldn’t give it, mum, but he insists it’s very important that he see Miss Merriweather.”

“It’s not Mr. Northrop, is it?” came the next hopeful question from Tina’s employer.

“No mum.
 
Not anyone from the area that I know.
 
And he’s a very fine-looking man.
 
Dressed up all expensive, but covered in road dust for all that.”

“I see.”
 
Miss Smye let out a disappointed little sigh.
 
“Well, show him in, I suppose.”

When Clarendon entered a few moments later, his presence making the small room seem even smaller, the air
whooshed
out of Tina’s lungs and she was briefly robbed of the ability to speak.
 
To see his seething masculinity amid all the wild ruffles and roses of the room only added to her sense of unreality.

The duke, however, did not suffer from a similar handicap.
 
“Miss Merriweather!
 
You’ve led us on a merry chase,” he growled, his expression thunderous.
 
He didn’t seem to have noticed Miss Smye.
 
“What did you mean by going off like that without a word to anyone?”

Tina rose to her feet and returned his glare.
 
“I simply let Edmund think that I had returned to the manor so he wouldn’t worry.
 
But I wrote to let him know I was well as soon as I settled here.
 
London isn’t far.
 
The letter should have reached him by now.”

“He hadn’t received it this morning.
 
It was damned irresponsible of you to take yourself off like that.”

He behaves as if I’m some silly, wayward child.

Tina ground her teeth, her hands curling into fists.
 
“You have no right to barge in here breathing fire and brimstone! How dare you speak to me in such a manner?
 
You—” She had no chance to continue.

“I dare because we’ve all been half mad with worry over your whereabouts!” he roared, his hands closing around her upper arms in a painfully tight grip.
 
Tina stared up at him, silenced by the sparking anger in his eyes and the white fury of his expression.
 
He glared at her a moment, before drawing in a deep breath and very deliberately releasing her.
 
When he spoke again, it was in a carefully moderated tone.
 
“When you disappeared without a word to anyone, we feared the worst.”

Tina swallowed, her anger slowly dissolving, to be supplanted by guilt at the worry she had caused them.
 
“If I had told Edmund of my plans, then he would have tried to stop me,” she said, looking down.
 
Her mouth tightened, and she looked up at him, her chin firm.
 
“And, under the circumstances, I thought it best I not return to the manor.”

At her words, his nostrils flared.
 
After a moment, he swallowed, nodding slowly.
 
“I see.”

Though he no longer touched her, she could practically feel the coiled tension in him.
 
Already, after these short moments in his presence, her body had awakened to his proximity.
 
Even in the midst of her swirling emotions, her eyes surveyed him hungrily.
 
Her breasts, almost painfully sensitized, rubbed against the silken fabric of her chemise even as her body yearned towards him.

His eyes narrowed.

“How do you feel about my brother, Miss Merriweather?”

The question startled her and she made herself look down, away from him.
 
“I do not see how that is any of your business,” she said.
 
All this time, she had been using her supposed feelings for his brother as a shield against her attraction for the duke—not that it had been as effective as she might have hoped.
 
Still, it was difficult to relinquish such a protection because, it would be as good as admitting that the only barrier between them was the all-too-fragile one represented by her need for respectability.

He shook his head. “Not good enough, Miss Merriweather.”

She turned away.
 
“Why are we dwelling on this?
 
It’s over between Edmund and me.
 
That is all.”

The duke let out an impatient breath.
 
“For God’s sake, Tina, just tell me why you broke off the betrothal.”

“You’re going to keep asking until I do, aren’t you?” she said, facing him once more.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips.
 
“Quite so, Miss Merriweather, so you may as well save us both the aggravation and yield sooner rather than later.”

She sighed.
 
“I ended the betrothal because I love Edmund—“ she raised her hand when he opened his mouth to speak “—but I’m not in love with him.”
 
She rubbed her forehead, suddenly weary.
 
“Under the circumstances, I could hardly have allowed the marriage to proceed, could I?”

“I see.” He watched her a few moments, his expression blank.
 
Then, he drew in a deep breath.
 
“In that case, perhaps you will permit me to make amends for… past transgressions.”

“Amends?”
 
Tina frowned, unable to fathom what he was getting at.

“I need you, Tina,” he said quietly and she froze, wondering if her own wishful thinking had conjured up the words.
 
“The estate needs you.
 
You’re a genius at running it, you know.
 
If you truly want to ensure its welfare, then it seems to me it might be best if you continued its management.”

She let out a puff of breath, frowning as she tried to infer what exactly he was suggesting.
 
“I see.
 
So you’re offering me a position as steward, then, as a way of making amends?”
 
She was genuinely tempted, for the holdings had come to mean almost as much to her as they had to Uncle Charles.
 

But the reasons against returning to the manor are unchanged,
she reminded herself.
 
The biggest and most compelling of which is standing far too close for comfort, staring at you as if you’ve come unhinged.

“As
steward
…?”
 
The duke shook his head, his expression baffled, before letting out a snort.
 
“Actually, Miss Merriweather, the position up for offer is that of duchess.”

Tina felt a flash of anger so intense that for a few moments she could not speak.
 
She itched to slap that faint smile off his face.
 

Instead, she leveled a glare at him.
 
“I ask that you not jest about such things, Your Grace.
 
We both know I am in no position to become your wife.”

“I am not in the habit of proposing marriage in jest, Miss Merriweather.
 
Part of the problem of being considered—for all my flaws—such an eligible
parti
is that a humorous proposal could all too easily be taken seriously, don’t you know.”

“But you
can’t
be serious.”

“Why not?”

A new thought occurred to Tina and her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
 
“What did Edmund tell you?”

He frowned.
 
“Edmund?
 
What does he have to do with it?”

“Did you speak to him about the broken engagement?”

“Of course.
 
I wanted to set things right between you two—I told him that it was I who compromised you.”

She swallowed, looking down.
 
“I was a willing participant.”

“I am an experienced seducer, Miss Merriweather,” he replied, his gaze somber.
 
“You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Tina’s mouth dropped open.
 
“Of all the—“
 
She shook her head and walked a few steps away, to the window, before swinging back to face him.
 
“I knew
exactly
what I was doing.
 
That
is part of the problem!
 
I knew, and I still couldn’t stop myself.”

“Funny.
 
Edmund made a similar observation.
 
He said you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to be unwillingly compromised.”
 
His expression darkened and he walked over to where she stood, looming over her once more as he held her shoulders in an iron grip.
 
“Do you still love him, Tina?
 
If you do, I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to encourage a reconciliation between you two.”

Tina squirmed in his grasp, too conscious of the warmth of his hands through the fabric of her dress—and the memories his touch evoked—to want to prolong the sensation.
 
He released her, scowling.

“I do not want to marry Edmund,” she said, enunciating very clearly.

“Is it because I compromised you?
 
Is that why you ran away?”

“I don’t want to marry Edmund because I love him as a brother, you twit,” she snapped, losing her patience.
 
“Not because you compromised me, nor for any other reason.
 
I realized how unfair it would be to hold him to his proposal under the circumstances.
 
I did not return to the manor because…” She raised her head, her chin jutting stubbornly.
 
“Because my mother used to say that passion was her downfall.
 
I do not intend that it be mine.”

“Marry me, Tina.”

“Why?”
 
She crossed her arms.

“Why?”
 
The question seemed to baffle him.

“Tell me why you want me to marry you.”

He seemed at a loss for words.
 
“Well, Edmund was right.
 
And you are an excellent estate administrator.
 
In addition, regardless of what you say, had I exercised more control, you would not have been compromised.
 
This is the best way I know of offering amends.”

Tina let out a slow breath.
 
Stay calm.
“What was Edmund right about?” she asked, her voice carefully modulated.

He shifted uncomfortably under her keen scrutiny.
 
“It was his idea that I offer for you—“

“
What?
”

“But so long as you both truly do not wish to be reconciled, I do think it’s a capital idea myself.”
 
He captured her hands in his own and impaled her with his devastating grin.
 
“I am quite mad about you, you know Tina.”

And Tina felt her innards liquefy instantly.
 
It was all she could do to keep standing, as she stared at him in a stunned daze.
 
After a few moments, he cleared his throat, still smiling.