“Am I not? Lady Glynis wants me to put on a decorous, docile act. How would the gentleman who agreed to marry me feel if he thought he was engaging himself to a compliant paragon of propriety only to discover that my true nature is not at all to his liking, or society’s? Pretending I’m something I’m not is a kind of prison.”
Dex sighed. “Miss Crewe, no one wants you to be someone you’re not. I only ask that you adhere to the basic rules that are in place for your protection.”
“You do love your rules and regulations. Your entire household is run as if it were a military company.”
“And you live your life at the mercy of every whim that enters that infernal head of yours.”
She tossed the head in question back, the better to look up at him. Her eyes held a challenging gleam, her small chin jutting forward mutinously. He’d never felt taller, or paradoxically more vulnerable. Here was a duelist worthy of sparring with, using words as blades to get under his skin. How did she wield such power?
“If this were Greek mythology, you would be the deity known as Chaos.”
“And if you were a Greek god,” she rejoined immediately, “you’d be named Taciturnus.”
“That’s not an actual mythological figure.”
She shook her head, impatience making her curls dance. “Then you’re Zeus the Grim, hurling glowers and grunts like thunderbolts from the sky!”
“It’s all for your own good. What I’m hurling at you is care and protection, you should be grateful.”
“I’m sure Zeus told himself that very lie every night!” Her verbal rapier thrust made contact. He winced. She glowed in triumph. Dex took a deep breath to regroup.
“Will you just promise to behave? And stop destroying Aunt Glynis’s nerves? She’s gone home for some well-deserved rest.”
“But aren’t we meant to go to the gallery opening this evening?”
Damn. He’d forgotten about that. Why had he allowed his aunt to leave? “We’ll have to cancel. You have no chaperone.”
“But I was so looking forward to it! I’ve always wanted to visit a gallery and meet artists.”
“You should have thought of that before you scared Aunt Glynis away.”
“Then I do apologize, Your Grace.” With a sudden change of demeanor, she gave an elegant dip of obeisance, bowing her head diffidently. So she did know how to curtsy! The little minx. “I, Analise Crewe, do solemnly promise to follow all your many rules this evening! Please do let me attend, I’ll be ever so quiet and docile. You won’t even know I’m there.”
Somehow he doubted that was possible.
“You said yourself there will be respectable duchesses there.”
“I said there would be duchesses. I’m not certain how respectable they are. My friends made... unusual matches. I suppose I could ask one of them to look after you tonight.”
“Splendid! I’ll be a model of propriety. I’ll drift around like a silent ghost, taking mental notes for my novel.”
He wasn’t buying this new tractable facade. She’d gotten her way, and now she was all demure smiles. It should have been infuriating. But it was... invigorating. Gratifying. He liked seeing her smile. He particularly enjoyed being the reason she was smiling.
Damn. And there it was again—his own smile, testing the edges of his scars.
Chapter Eleven
“Be still, Princess! For the sake of my own peace and quiet, I have decided to let you out of the cave during the day, with me as your protector. But stray you not from my side! These hills are full of danger. A red pall hangs over the valley, sending tendrils our way. You will do as I say, and I will keep you from harm.”
—The Dragon and the Blue Starby Analise Crewe
“Warburton, how good of you to come.” Thea, Duchess of Osborne, clasped Dex’s hands warmly, then turned to Miss Crewe. “And this must be your ward?”
Dex nodded. “Allow me to present Miss Analise Crewe. Miss Crewe, this is Her Grace, the Duchess of Osborne.”
“Pish. You know we’re not formal at my art salon. You may call me Thea.” She smiled engagingly at Miss Crewe.
“Then you must call me Ana. It was the name my father used, short for Analise.”