Not Just a Wallflower. Carole Mortimer
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sizeable dowry!’ Ellie repeated, staring up at him incredulously. ‘And why, pray, would you wish to do that?’
He lifted a brow. ‘Because it would make my grandmother happy if I did?’
Ellie continued to look up at him for several long seconds, a stare the duke met with unblinking and bored implacability. Bored?
So he found the idea of marrying her off, whether she wished it or not, whether she would be happy or not, to be not only amusing but boring as well?
And to think—to imagine that she had thought only minutes ago that she was in love with Justin St Just! So much so, that she had awaited with trepidation the announcement of his betrothal and forthcoming marriage to some beautiful and highly eligible young lady. Now she could not help but feel pity for whichever of those unlucky women should eventually be chosen as duchess to this arrogant man!
Indeed, as far as Ellie was concerned, Justin St Just had become nothing more than her tormentor, out to bedevil her with threats of arranging her marriage to a man she neither knew nor loved.
It could not be allowed to happen!
Except...Ellie had no idea how she was to go about avoiding such an unwanted outcome when the duke and the dowager duchess, both so imperious and determined, seemed so set upon the idea.
She placed her brandy glass down upon one of the side tables before commencing to pace the room, as she feverishly sought for ways in which she might avoid the state of an arranged, unhappy marriage, without upsetting the kind dowager duchess, or incurring the wrath of her devil of a grandson.
Justin replenished his brandy glass before strolling over to take a seat beside the warmth of the fire, observing Eleanor’s agitated movements from between narrowed lids.
That she was displeased at the idea of an arranged marriage was completely obvious. A deep frown marred her brow as she continued to energetically pace the length of the library, which allowed Justin to appreciate the outline of her slender and yet curvaceous form in the plain brown gown and the creamy expanse of her throat above the swell of her breasts, as well as the fineness of those furiously snapping green eyes.
He couldn’t help but wonder how much more beautiful she might look with that abundance of red curls loose about her shoulders and dressed in a clinging gown, or possibly a night rail, of deep green silk...
And to think he had been bored to the point of ennui earlier this evening!
Not so any longer. Now Justin felt invigorated, the future full of possibilities, as he considered the challenge ahead of him in procuring a suitable husband for the surprisingly feisty, and obviously unwilling, Miss Eleanor Rosewood.
He was not a little curious as to the reason for her obvious aversion to an arranged marriage, when, in Justin’s experience, for the majority of the women of his acquaintance an advantageous marriage appeared to be their only goal in life.
Could it be—did Eleanor’s tastes perhaps run in another direction entirely? No, surely not! It would be a cruelty on the part of Mother Nature if a woman of such understated beauty, and surprisingly fiery a temperament as Eleanor, was not destined to occupy the arms, the bed, of some lucky gentleman. In other circumstances, she would almost certainly have made the perfect mistress—
No, he really must not think of her in such terms. He must in future consider himself as purely a guardian where she was concerned.
Even if his extremely private inner thoughts strayed constantly in the opposite direction!
‘Have you drawn any conclusions yet as to how you might thwart my grandmother’s plans for your immediate future?’ Justin teased after several long minutes of her pacing. ‘If so, I wish you would share them with me, if only for my own future reference?’
Ellie came to an abrupt halt to glare across the library at the lazily reclining form of the relaxed duke, the glow from the flames of the fire turning his fashionably styled hair a rich and burnished gold, those patrician features thrown into stark and cruel relief, and causing Ellie’s pulse to quicken in spite of herself.
The rapidity of her pulse, and sudden shortness of breath, told her that, although she now doubted herself in love with him any more, she was still not completely averse to his physical attributes, at least.
His arrogance and mockery, when directly aimed at her, as they now were, were something else entirely, the former frustrating her and the latter infuriating her.
She drew in a deep and steady breath before answering him. ‘I do not see why I cannot, politely but firmly, inform her Grace of my feelings of aversion to an arranged marriage—you find something amusing in that approach?’ she prompted sharply as he laughed out loud.
‘Truth be told, I find it ridiculous in the extreme.’ Justin flashed his even white teeth in an unsympathetic grin. ‘My grandmother, as I am sure you are aware, has all the subtlety of a battering ram. That being so, I doubt your own feelings on the matter will even be considered. Nor will anything you have to say on the subject shake her unwavering certainty that she feels she knows what is best for you,’ he added firmly as Ellie would have protested.
‘Perhaps if you were to—no, I see that you are so entertained by the whole idea, you would not even consider coming to my aid!’ Ellie eyed him in utter disgust as he continued to grin at her in that unsympathetic manner.
He eyed her mockingly. ‘Perhaps if you were to tell me of the reasons for your reluctance in this matter, I’d feel more inclined to help you out?’
Ellie gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘No doubt they are the same as your own. I could never marry anyone whom I did not love with the whole of my heart and who did not love me in the same way.’
All amusement fled as he stood up abruptly, his eyes now a cold and glittering sapphire blue. ‘There you are wrong, Eleanor,’ he rasped. ‘My own feelings on that particular subject are in total opposition to your own,’ he elaborated harshly as she raised questioning brows, ‘in that I would never consider marrying anyone who declared a love for me, or vice versa.’
Ellie’s eyes widened at his words and the coldness of the tone in which he said them. She had believed that the duke’s aversion to marriage was because he had not yet met the woman whom he loved enough to make his duchess. His statement now showed it was the opposite.
Ellie could not help but wonder why...
She was aware, of course, that many marriages in the ton were made for financial or social gain, as her mother’s had been to Frederick St Just. But often the couples in those marriages learnt a respect and affection for each other, and in some cases love itself. Again, that had not happened in her mother’s case, her marriage to Frederick, an inveterate gambler and womaniser, tolerable at best, painful at worst, certainly colouring Ellie’s own views on the subject.
But for any gentleman to deliberately state his intention of never feeling love for his wife, or to have her feel love for him, seemed harsh in the extreme.
And surely it was asking too much of any woman, if married to Justin St Just, not to fall in love with him?
Or perhaps the answer to his stated aversion to loving his future wife had something to do with why he could not initially be found earlier on this evening...?
Ellie knew that many gentlemen of the ton had mistresses, women society dictated they could never marry, but for whom they often held more affection than they did their wives. Perhaps he had such a woman in his life? A low-born woman, or possibly a married woman of the ton, whom he could never make his duchess, but for whom he had a deep and abiding love?
Yes, perhaps that was the explanation for his stated desire for a loveless marriage. ‘Would such a situation not be unfair to your future wife?’ she ventured softly.
He looked down the length of his nose at her. ‘Not if she were made aware of the situation from the onset.’
She gasped. ‘Surely no woman would accept a marriage proposal