“There are several dozen unmarried ladies in this very room who are also attractive. They are not ruined and would make quite the nice duchess. I repeat, why me?”
“Perhaps I am merely altruistic, desirous of saving you from your fallen status. Had you thought of that?”
“Yes, quite. And maybe I’m the long lost daughter of an Indian nabob, kidnapped at birth and brought here to wreak havoc on the poor sensibilities of the ton.”
Hell and damn. “If plain speaking is your desire, by all means, let us speak plainly. We will suit. That is all.”
She was quiet for a long moment before she said, without the ghost of a smile, “Your Grace is as much a pariah as I, and I do believe you’re correct.”
“I generally am, you’ll discover.”
“Have you no anxiety that I might leave you at the altar again?”
“None at all.” He swung her about a bit faster, enjoying the heightened color in her cheeks. Lady Jane benefited from exertion. “You’ve had your revenge and I my humble pie. You need your respectability restored. I need a wife.”
“Why do you presume I would marry you when no one else will?”
“Because you want a husband, family and respectability, and much as I am faced with one clear choice, so are you. You surmise, rightly so, I have acquired humility due to the unfortunate circumstances of my previous marriages. I am brought to heel, Lady Jane, and am now and ever will be, your servant. If you will allow it.” It was a calculated gamble to say so. He actually had no idea. She might tell him to go to the devil.
Her look was filled with knowing. “Has it come to that, then? I really am your only choice, your last chance, am I not?”
“Yes, Jane, it has come to that.” He stared down at her and drew her closer still, his thighs brushing hers as they moved in ever faster circles. “We are beyond polite banter.”
“I should hope so, Your Grace. Polite banter with a man who ravished me seems hypocritical in the extreme.”
“For reasons I’d prefer not to enumerate, I feel it best to marry a woman whom I respect, but do not love. In fact, I prefer not to harbor the slightest affection for a wife. I most certainly do not want a wife ruled by a passionate nature. To be brief, Lady Jane, I am drawn to you. I find I still want you, even after what you did to me, after four years and the death of two wives. It bothers me to marry you, and I will say right out, I will never allow myself to tender an affection for you. But we will rub along well, I believe.” His hand dropped an inch, until his wrist touched her hip. “And I am convinced you will not die.”
“Because I have adequate hips?”
“Precisely.”
“How very romantic, Blixford. I may faint, I am so overcome with passion.”
Her eyes glittered with anything but passion.
“You’re angry, but it’s misplaced, Lady Jane. I mean no offense, and am sincere. You asked for the truth and I have given it to you.” He glanced over her shoulder, noting they were now completely alone on the dance floor and the room was lined with all of polite society, surreptitiously gawking behind fans and glasses of punch. Perfect. “Look about you, Jane. These are our people, those whom we must befriend for the sake of our families and our children, if not for our own need of human companionship. They are judging us, finding us lacking. Marriage will bring both of us back into the fold, but no one else will have you, and no one will have me. You were never meant to be a spinster, Jane. Marry me.”
Her gaze moved to one side of him and she watched as he swept her past the faces of those who would not accept her unless and until she obeyed the rules.
“I will consider it, Your Grace, under one condition.”
“What is that?”
She met his gaze. “You must give up your mistress.”
“How do you know I have one?”
“Because I followed you there, just last night. Her house is in a neighborhood known as a haven for mistresses. She is quite lovely, and I’m sure an able companion for you, but I simply won’t share. Give her up, or find another bride.”
He missed a step.
“Oh, do stop glowering at me, Blixford. Try to remember, it’s been four years since you saw me last. A great many things can happen in four years. I am no longer a child, and you no longer hold all the best cards in your large hand.”
“My hands are large?”
“Huge. I always loved your hands.” She peered up at him and smiled, perhaps the first genuine smile of the evening. “And your nose.”
“My nose is generally considered my worst feature.”
“It is striking and ruins your beauty. This is not a bad thing, for certainly a beautiful man is less a novelty than an anomaly.”