“I’ve changed my mind.”
“So it seems.” Brandon shifted in chair. “Miss Chambers?”
Penrose smiled. “Is it so obvious?”
“Only to everyone who has observed the two of you pretending to ignore each other.”
“Ah, yes. Well, you may chide me now. To your way of thinking the giant has fallen.”
“I knew it would happen one day. You never meant for me to be the heir. It was only a matter of time before you came to your senses. I am not, and never will be, fit to be the duke. I’m just surprised it has taken you this long.” He raised his glass in a salute. “And may I say I congratulate you on your choice. Had you not spoken up, I would have paid my own addresses to the woman.”
“Hands off, brother.” Penrose narrowed his eyes.
Brandon threw up both hands, palms face out. “I would never tread on your territory.”
They grinned at each other.
Merry closed the door to her bedroom and headed to the stairs. Her headache had diminished somewhat, but she’d spent the time lying in the darkened room, remembering. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so easy to do if Penrose’s scent still didn’t linger on the pillow where he’d slept. She had quickly changed her own sheet that the morning, horrified to see the smear of blood. The evidence of her indiscretion staring her in the face.
Her confusion at his reaction this afternoon remained. Hopefully sometime tonight they would have a few minutes alone, and she could talk to him, determine his feelings.
What feelings? You allowed him to take you to bed. You are certainly old enough to know what men think of those kinds of women.
She reached the partially open drawing room door to hear Penrose and Lord Brandon speaking. Knowing she shouldn’t, nevertheless she halted and listened.
“I will announce our betrothal at the ball tomorrow night.” Penrose’s voice reached her ears, causing her to take in a sharp breath.
Betrothal?
“Well done for my future sister-in-law. From governess to duchess,” Brandon said.
Miss Jennings? Every
thing inside Merry dissolved into pain. The woman had been right. With her English background, the duke would select Miss Jennings if he ever decided to marry. Apparently his meeting with her in the library was to propose a business arrangement.
Oh, how stupid she’d been. She’d given herself to a man who had no regard for her, who probably thought since she was an American, she had no morals. Is he right?
Merry’s knees went weak. He hadn’t lied. Marriage was merely a way to gain the perfect duchess, with no consideration of love. She shook her head and fought down the bile that rose to the back of her throat.
“What about the other one?”
“I have plans for her. I don’t want any complications her presence would cause in my marriage. I’ll see she is well taken care of and settled elsewhere.”
“Won’t she expect more than that? I’ve always felt the woman was smitten with you.”
“No matter. Her false assumptions will be dealt with.”
Smitten? Had the entire household noticed her attraction to the despicable man? Oh, if only the floor could open and she could drop through.
Merry stumbled backward until her heels hit the bottom stair and she fell on her bottom. She scrambled to her feet and raced up the stairs to reach her bedroom before she shattered into a million pieces.
“Obviously this will not be the typical ton marriage you had anticipated. Mother and I have been aware that your feelings for the girl are beyond the affection stage.” He sobered and swirled the brandy in his glass. “Keep in mind, Penrose, you will hear comments from some members of the ton about Miss Chamber’s background. Don’t forget, you are considered quite the catch. I would not see her subjected to derision and heartache. I am quite fond of my future sister.”
“No one will cut my duchess.”
“See that they don’t.”
Penrose nodded as his mother and Miss Jennings entered the room.