To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

“Most ton marriages are not much better,” Arden said sardonically.

“You are far too cynical, your grace.”

“And your notions about love are far too idealistic.”

Roslyn raised an eyebrow. “You think true love is merely a fairy tale?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t believe so. I’ve never experienced genuine love myself, but I know it exists. My friend Tess Blanchard loved her betrothed very deeply before he was killed at Waterloo. And my mother found love with her second husband.”

The duke shook his head. “Neither case is representative of genteel British marriages. Your friend’s betrothed died, and your mother married a Frenchman.”

“Arabella and Marcus certainly love each other.”

His mouth curled, but he held his tongue.

Even so, Roslyn protested his skepticism. “You have seen them together. You cannot dispute how ardently they feel for each other.”

He shrugged. “They fancy themselves in love for now, but I doubt it will last. I’ve witnessed too many couples profess to be madly in love until the first flush of lust wears off. Then they are left with nothing more than boredom-or worse.”

Roslyn gave him an arch smile. “I would not expect your sentiments to be any different. Merely because you are reputed to be a marvelous lover does not mean you know a thing about love.”

“Indeed, I don’t. And I don’t wish to know, either.” His expression remained bland as he studied her. “It surprises me, though, that with your experience, you still believe you can make a love match. You said your parents’ marriage was a battleground?”

“Yes. When I was young, they fought all the time.” Even now their animosity was still intensely painful for Roslyn to remember, but she managed a shrug. “That, no doubt, is why I became ‘bookish,’ as you termed it.”

“How so?”

“Books provided me an escape. During my parents’ fights, I would hide in the library among my beloved books until their battles ended, cowering like a timid mouse.”

“I can’t imagine you cowering at anything.”

Her mouth twisted wryly. “Oh, I did, believe me. I would crawl behind the window seat curtains and try to shut out their conflicts, but I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. Sometimes I couldn’t even hold a volume still enough to read.” Her expression became bleak. “My sisters would usually find me and try to comfort me, but it was something I couldn’t control.”

Roslyn fell silent, recalling those dark, turbulent years of her girlhood. Both her sisters had worried for her. Lily would slip into the library where she was hiding and hold her hand, offering solace by chattering on about the latest kitten or foal born on the estate farms. Arabella, however, would drag them both out of doors, where they walked or rode for hours, returning only when they could be assured that their father had stormed out of the house and left their mother weeping bitter tears.

Arden remained silent, too, as he regarded her intently. His gaze was unreadable as usual, but Roslyn thought she saw a hint of softness there that seemed like sympathy.

Taking hold of herself, she shook off the uncomfortable vulnerability. She had no need for his pity. Yet the painful remembrance of her parents’ unhappy marriage only reinforced her resolve to control her own fate.

“It was a long time ago,” she said, forcing a lighter note into her tone. “But perhaps you see why I am determined to make Lord Haviland fall in love with me.”

“Yes, I see.” Arden slowly rose to his feet. “Take heart, sweeting. All is not lost. I will call on him now and see if I can encourage him.”

Roslyn felt a sudden stab of unease. “What do you intend, your grace?”

“Merely to sing your praises a little. Don’t worry, I will make it subtle. I need to speak to Haviland on several matters in any case, so he will never suspect my intentions.”

She scowled. “I hope not. You said the last thing I should do is let him realize I am pursuing him. It would be nearly as detrimental if he thinks you are matchmaking.”

“Matchma

king…God forbid.” The duke gave a mock shudder. “But I suppose that is precisely what I am doing.” He hesitated a moment. “If you like, I’ll give you a final lesson before I leave for London tomorrow morning. You still need to work on a few shortcomings.”

His provocative tone somehow made her distrustful. “What shortcomings?” she asked warily, trying not to feel insulted.

The smile he flashed her was irresistible. “I will tell you tomorrow.”