Page 7 of Distracting the Duke

This was going to be difficult. Miss Soper looked as lovely as he’d remembered, and was coy and delightful, but her guardian was proving very difficult even to pretend to like.

Lady Tinniswood said, “My brother has the unfortunate capacity, sir, of requiring perfection in everyone. Where he doesn’t find it, he condemns.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Marcus tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice but apparently missed the mark.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then skewered a piece of ham on her plate and started cutting it up noisily.

“This is an excellent spread, Your Grace,” exclaimed Mrs. Weston, her lace cap bobbing with enthusiasm. “I can’t remember when I’ve ever had better! But I fear if I eat any more I won’t be able to walk one step, and I couldn’t bear to miss the tour of the house.”

“Don’t worry, I could always have a footman carry you,” Marcus offered with a wink.

Miss Soper giggled.

A woman who laughed at his jokes? Even better.

“I thought we’d end the tour by going up to the roof,” he said. “I’ve installed a camera obscura up there, of which I’m very proud.”

“A camera obscura?” queried Miss Soper. “I know I must be very stupid, but what is that?”

Before Marcus could reply, Lady Clara dropped her cutlery onto her plate and said, “Of course you’re not stupid. Nobody can know everything. A camera obscura is a large box which is used for the projection of pictures, and can be quite helpful in the drawing of landscapes. I’m certain the duke will explain it all very thoroughly when he shows it to us.”

Marcus smiled. Miss Soper was so sweet in admitting her ignorance. There seemed to be no vanity in the girl at all. It was most endearing.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, sitting back and taking another sip of his elderflower cordial. He was pretending to drink wine like his guests, but in truth, he was no great drinker, and with the charming prize of Miss Soper in his sights, he wanted to have a clear head.

Philip Weston pushed his plate away. “That was capital, sir. Capital. Particularly the pie.”

Probably the first positive word Marcus had heard the man utter all day. He inclined his head. “My servant will make you up a basket of what’s left to take home. That’s if you’re not too proud to accept my charity?”

A peculiar silence followed his words. He looked around the table. Had he said something amiss?

“Leftovers are my absolute favorite,” said Lady Clara stoutly. “I always find food tastes even better when you come to it the second time around.”

Miss Soper giggled again, so he fastened his attention back on her. There was something complicated going on between the rest of them, and he mustn’t allow it to distract him from his purpose.

“So, Miss Soper, do you favor Queen Caroline or King George?”

She fixed her eyes on him, large and cornflower blue—what handsome children they might have!—and replied, “How can I presume to do that when they are both so high above me?”

If she became a duchess, that gap would lessen. Would she be as humble then?

“What if I were to say that however flawed George may be, he does at least represent the stability of the old order—an order which has saved this country from producing despots like Napoleon?”

“I think you’ll find,” broke in Lady Clara, “that King George might also be called a despot.”

Marcus frowned at the interloper.

“I agree with whatever His Grace says,” said Miss Soper before he could think of a pithy put-down. “For he’s most certainly been at court and met both George and the Princess of Wales, whereas I have not.”

Marcus smiled at his fair rescuer and enjoyed her blush in response.

“And if His Grace told you that the charges against Caroline of Brunswick were a pack of lies trumped up by the king purely because he disliked his wife, would you agree with him then?” Lady Clara persisted.

“I would assume he knew what he was talking about,” declared Miss Soper.

“But, Eleanora dear, I have just presented two contradictory views. You mustn’t try to please everyone,” said Lady Clara.

“You’re too harsh on your ward, Lady Tinniswood,” Marcus scolded gently. “I’m flattered if she’s trying to please me. It does her great credit.”