The Duchess War (Brothers Sinister #1)

She looked into his eyes. He seemed quite forbidding, and her head was still spinning. She sat again.

“When those goats surrounded you,” he said, “I punched the man who was driving them. In front of everyone. And then, when you collapsed, I picked you off the floor and carried you out of the room. Whatever gossip you imagine you might forestall by walking out now—believe me, someone is already saying it.”

Oh, God. It had happened. It had really happened. Her head felt light. She was ruined; Stevens would come back with his proof, and it wouldn’t matter. Minnie took a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think. I told you I can be stupid. When I saw you out there, thinking was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted to be by your side.”

Minnie shook her head, which made her feel all the more dizzy. “As much my fault as yours.” If this was disaster, it was a disaster she’d courted. She’d known there was an attraction between them. He’d as good as told her nothing could come of it. And she’d kissed him anyway—kissed him and wanted him to look at her. That’s what came of putting herself forward. “I’ll take care of this somehow.”

There had to be some explanation she could give, some way that this could all come right. Maybe if someone else fainted, and he grabbed her, too? Then it might be seen as mere chivalry on his part.

But that didn’t feel right to her. Too forced. Unnatural. Minnie scrubbed her forehead in distress.

He sat down next to her and took her hand. “Minnie,” he said gently. “Do you recall the time you came to my house and threatened me?”

“How could I forget?” She frowned. “I suppose I could use that. Expose you now and explain that you were just trying to keep me quiet. It still doesn’t feel right. I don’t think it will work.”

“At the time, I said that if anything happened, I’d make sure you had a proposal of marriage. I believe my precise words were that I’d make sure of it, even if I had to make one myself.”

All her plans came to a halt. Minnie looked up into his eyes. It would have been a vicious thing to joke about, and he’d never been cruel before. Still, it was easier to imagine him callous than the universe kind.

“You didn’t mean it,” she said. “It was said in jest.”

He shrugged. “It was said in stupidity, not jest. I say a lot of stupid things when you’re about.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair and then sighed. “But stupid as it might have been, it was also true. I meant it, Minnie. I wish you would marry me.” He glanced over at her. “Even without this, I would have asked. I’ve been thinking of nothing else for days. Marry me.”

She couldn’t comprehend that. Instead, she stood and walked over to the narrow window. From here, she had a view of the square in front of them. The last remnants of the crowd had dispersed, taking their goats with them. No, what he was saying didn’t seem possible. “That makes no sense, Your Grace,” she said. “That is madness talking. You cannot marry someone like me.”

He didn’t pretend to know what she meant. “That’s what everyone says.” He regarded her. “And I admit, I hadn’t considered the possibility until I met you. But once I started thinking about it, you began to make all kinds of sense. Do you know why I haven’t married yet?”

“You’re not even thirty. You’ve years ahead of you…”

She trailed off, suddenly uneasy. His eyes had fixed on her in a way that started her heart beating in a way that had nothing to do with his age. Her hands grew clammy.

“Minnie,” he said, “do you have any idea what I hope to accomplish? You must have gathered that my father took ownership of a factory here and ran it into the ground—that I hope to make up for that. I have a half brother who matters more to me than anyone in the entire world, who is looked down on for his birth. I don’t stand on my prerogatives.”

Minnie could scarcely breathe.

“But that is only part of what I hope to see in my life. If I had my way, I would abolish the hereditary peerage in its entirety.”

She gasped.

“Every aspect of it,” he said fiercely. “Lords should be indicted like commoners and tried by juries. We should not have the right to reject laws that Commons proposes. In fact, I don’t think the House of Lords should exist at all. I wish to hell I was simple Mr. Blaisdell. My father—you have no idea how dreadful he was.”

His hands clenched at his side; his eyes blazed with a light she hadn’t seen since he talked to Finney.

“I could apologize for the benefits I inherited from him,” Robert said. “But I learned long ago that an apology changes nothing. So I plan instead to use them—use them to make sure that what my father did, no lord will ever be allowed to do again.”

This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be saying those things.