“Marry you?” she demanded.
He swallowed. Then froze. What the hell had he done?
“Will, you have no wish to marry…at least, you do not wish to marry now.”
“No, I don’t,” he agreed.
Only an hour before, he would have laughed at anyone who said he’d propose to a lady that day, let alone that year.
But then he began to allow himself to contemplate Beatrice by his side as his duchess. And in his bed. He’d asked her… What if he didn’t take it back?
What if she said yes?
He cleared his throat. “You don’t wish to wed me, either.”
“No,” she agreed.
“Marry me anyway,” he said, apparently casting all logic away. Because he could not allow his Beatrice to fall to further harm in a world that would misuse her, eat her up, and work her until she was naught but a shadow of the magnificent woman he knew.
“What? Have you thought this through?”
“Perhaps not,” he whispered. “But we have a choice before us.”
She eyed him carefully.
“I know you’re not afraid of being poor or finding a thankless position,” he began. “But if we unite, you will do far more good than you ever could have on your own. You’re no fool. Imagine the power at your fingertips as my duchess.”
“We face the prospect of misery,” she said flatly.
“Not if we are logical,” he found himself arguing. What the bloody hell was he still doing? Surely he should be convincing her that he could set her up with a pension.
But one day he was going to marry. Sire an heir. And why not her? She was going to be miserable in poverty. He could ensure her independence and spirit were fanned, not extinguished.
“I don’t follow,” she said, folding her hands across her bosom.
He nodded, warming to the idea. “You’re a logical woman and will never expect foolish, romantic drivel from me. And I can give you a family name that will gain you entry into politics.”
“Allies?” she whispered as the idea clearly began to make some sense to her.
He could see her mind going over the dangers and the benefits.
“Allies,” he agreed. “And nothing more. We shall never have to worry about being typical husband and wife. You and I? We are above that drivel that so many long for.”
“Drivel?” she echoed.
“Love,” he explained. “We share a cause instead. And that’s what matters most. Truly, I am the answer. And I think you can be mine.”
Chapter Fourteen
Once a duke, always a duke, it seemed.
Good God, William did act as if he knew all and could fix all. His attempts at perfection could be most difficult.
If he was like this all of the time, she could not have borne his presence, and yet she knew, ultimately, he was trying to do good.
It was always the case with William. He tried to do good. And he was trying to do good in this moment. She knew he’d never had any intention to marry in the near future, and yet here he was offering to take her out of a very difficult position.
But she couldn’t possibly say yes.