for nae winners. Neville, I dinna care if I disappoint, but he's o' the same mind as Archie on this, and I do care if I disappoint him. Archie, however, is being foolish in what he wants, but you canna tell an auld stubborn Scot that."
"That's quite a predicament," Sabrina replied, her lips pursed thoughtfully. "Perhaps if you weren't trying so hard to make this important decision of yours, it might get much easier for you."
"And the sun managed tae shine all day as well, I noticed," he countered.
Since it had in fact rained most of the day, she scolded lightly, "Don't be so skeptical, when it really does work occasionally. In my own case, I have found that if I don't worry a problem to death, the answer will sometimes just come to me of a sudden. Not always, of course, that would be too simple, but often enough that I do try not to worry about it when a problem first presents itself. A few predicaments do have a way of correcting themselves with no help from you a'tall. Would that they all did," she ended with a smile.
"You're a might young tae be so philosophical, lass."
"You think so?" she said in wide-eyed innocence. "When that's a child's logic I just gave you, that most adults tend to forget once they become adults?"
He chuckled. She was such a treasure, this friend of his. And she looked especially lovely tonight in her simple blue frock with her eyes sparkling with laughter. She had mentioned dancing in jest, but he did want to dance with her, and he realized why. He wanted to touch her.
Duncan sighed inwardly. He had to stop these kinds of thoughts. She wasn't interested in him that way, had never once looked at him with other than camaraderie. She considered him a friend. A fine friend he would be if he pounced on her every chance he got.
He was going to frighten her away if he didn't get control of this sudden attraction he was finding to her. Much as he might like to steal another kiss or two from her, he would much rather have her friendship, which he was finding he valued beyond measure.
But he could dance with her. Even she would think nothing of it, probably did expect him to at least ask her for a twirl about the floor. One dance, and then he would get back to the matter of finding a wife.
Chapter Twenty-nine
"Will you marry me, Sabrina?"
She imagined that he had waited until they were twirling about the dance floor before springing that shocking question on her so she wouldn't just walk off and ignore it as it deserved. She did miss a step and almost tripped them both. And she didn't find him amusing. Marriage was nothing to tease about, really, at least not in such a direct way.
"Don't be absurd," she finally told him. "You know very well that you and I wouldn't suit. Nor would your family approve, as if I need to point that out, when you know it very well."
"If those are your only objections, then we can set a date for the wedding."
She rolled her eyes at him. He was joking. She just wished she could find it a matter for joking as well. Not that she wouldn't have been exceptionally flattered if she thought he was serious. But she was realistic, knew she wasn't a prime catch like he was, even if she didn't have a scandal attached to her name. But she did come packaged with an old scandal, and most families, particularly those that prided themselves on having pristine ancestry, would summarily cross her off a list of possibilities for their heirs.
And besides, she had decided that very afternoon that she was never going to marry, after coming to the heartbreaking conclusion that she loved a man she could never have. Marrying someone else just wouldn't be fair to the man in question, even if that man was Raphael Locke, who might deserve it for treating this subject so frivolously.
"Why won't you believe me?" Raphael asked after her silence continued. "I'm not blind, Rafe," she said uncomfortably.
He ignored the reference to her looks, said instead, "You're wonderful, is what you are. I'd much rather marry someone I truly enjoy being with than some snooty chit who spends all her time primping in front of a mirror."
She laughed. "Well, I'd have to admit mirrors and I don't get along too well. But if I did believe you, my answer would have to be no."
"Why?"
How to explain without really explaining? She decided not to try, to turn the tables on him instead.
"You aren't the least bit devastated by my refusal, which proves you don't love me."
"Well, no, but I like you well enough, and I've no doubt love would blossom in no time a'tall."
She snorted at him. "Now, why would you hope for such an occurrence, rather than wait for it to happen first and then proceed in a more natural order? Why would you even want to get married as young as you are, when you don't have to, and love isn't involved?"
He gave her a wounded look. "You don't think you could learn to love me?"
"When I haven't given you the least indication that I'm interested, might you not conclude that my interest lies elsewhere?"
"Aha! Are we going to confess now that we love someone else?"
She blinked at him. He seemed too triumphant by half with that conclusion.
"Is that what this is all about? You're looking for a grand confession that—"
"Now, now, don't say something we will both regret. No, I'm hoping two people I like will wake up and see what's in front of them before it's too late."
There was a serious side to Raphael Locke, and she was seeing it now. It actually made him much more attractive than his usual attitude of jocularity, but she only barely noticed that.
"And which two people are those?" she asked, her eyes narrowing on him suspiciously.
"You, of course, and that dunderhead Highlander," he replied simply.
Sabrina blushed furiously. Good God, how could he possibly have guessed her feelings when she had only just discovered them herself? Was she obvious about it? Staring at Duncan too long, perhaps? Looking at him in a way she shouldn't? She was mortified to think she might be. Or was it only because she had spent so much time with Duncan the other night, and that had been taken note of? If that was the case, then Raphael was only guessing, and she wasn't about to give him yet another reason to exclaim, Aha!
"You are mistaken," she said succinctly. "Duncan and I are just friends."
He didn't exactly snort, but it was definitely a similar sound of skepticism that he made. That he made no comment, though, and the silence continued, forced her to elaborate. He was obviously still harboring false assumptions—at least where Duncan was concerned. Her own feelings hardly counted when they weren't returned.
"I can’t imagine where you got this silly idea from," she said. "Duncan even discusses with me his dilemma in needing to pick a wife from among those in attendance here. I was going to recommend your sister to him. That should please you, since, as you say, you like him."
Raphael chuckled now. "Trouble is, I do like him, so I would not wish my sister on him, who would drive him batty within a month."
She frowned at him. "Bosh. You adore your sister. How can you not, when she's so charming? Perhaps it's your constant teasing of her that causes her to act in such a way that might cause someone to go batty."
He smiled. "Perhaps, but hardly the point. He might be dancing with her now." He paused to take a moment to spot the other couple in the crowd on the dance floor. "But take it from a man who would recognize the signs, m'dear. He isn't the least bit interested in my little sister."
"And what, pray tell, makes you think he's interested in me that way?"
"Possibly because he looks for you when you're not with him. Possibly because he's already sent a couple scowls my way since I've been dancing with you. Possibly because Lady Ophelia is here when she shouldn't be here, but she's here because he couldn't stand it that you wouldn't be here unless she was."
Sabrina stared at him blankly for a moment until that last long sentence unjumbled itself enough to make sense in her mind. She then sighed.
"You misunderstand completely Duncan's reactions, but then of course you would, since you aren't aware of all the cir
cumstances involved."
"Which would be?"
"Basically, the effect I have on some people. I'm quite aware of it. In fact, I work at it diligently." He was frowning now. "What are you talking about? What effect?"
"I put people at ease, Rafe. Whatever is bothering them, aggravation, frustration, real anger, et cetera, I'm able to tease them out of it with simple silliness or a laugh or two. It really is amazing, how beneficial a little thing like laughter is. But in Duncan's case, he's been overset with all of the negative emotions since coming here, since he really didn't want to come here. And both his grandfathers have been causing him extra frustration in insisting he get this marriage business over with quickly. And to be truthful ..." She whispered now. "I don't think he likes Lord Neville a'tall. I wouldn't presume to ask why, but from certain remarks he's made, I have gathered as much."
"And your point in all of that?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Wretch, you got the point very well. He's constantly angry or frustrated or whatever, and I'm able to make him forget his troubles for a bit, that's all. Now, wouldn't you often seek out someone who was able to help you forget for a while that you're facing the guillotine in the morning?"
He laughed at that point. "Touché. Indeed, I'd package you up and take you home with me."
Sabrina grinned. "Well, Duncan doesn't have to go that far, since I live in the neighborhood. He knows very well he can always come visiting when he needs cheering up."
"That's assuming he thinks you'll always be available, but what if you marry and move out of the neighborhood? D'you think he's considered that?"
"Why would he, when it's very likely I'll follow in my aunts' footsteps and never marry?"
"Good God, what a waste!" he said in exaggeration, then seriously, "You don’t really think that a silly scandal like yours is would stop someone from marrying you if he really wants to marry you, do you?"
"Actually, I know it will, and you know it will, when the object of most marriages is to continue the line with heirs, and if my particular scandal is believed, then I won't last long enough to beget heirs."
Raphael's snort was most definitely a snort this time. "You know very well you have no intention of ever kicking the bucket intentionally, and anyone with any sense a'tall would know it as well, when you are obviously so very full of laughter and joy of life. There isn't a melancholic bone in your little body, m'dear."
She gave him a wide-eyed look. "Well, no, there isn't, but where did you get the idea that anyone has any sense—aside from the two of us, of course?"
He laughed heartily. "Gads, I suppose when you look at it that way, you're quite right. Of course, if you were to agree to marry me—not to actually do so, mind you, but just to, well, to pretend, so to speak—what do you think Duncan's reaction would be?"
"I think he'd be the first to congratulate me and wish me happy, if that's what he thinks I want."
Raphael tsked. "I disagree. I think he'll discover some serious jealousy, if he hasn't already figured out that's why he can't stand seeing me dance with you. Care to give it a try to find out?"
"You are being ridiculous again and decidedly single-minded. Friends can be jealous of friends, you know, or haven't you ever experienced that when your best friend ignores you a bit and is seen having fun with other friends? Jealousy does not always involve love. Far from it. Envy takes many different forms."
"Yes, yes," he said in exasperation. "But why don't we try it anyway? It won't hurt your reputation a'tall, nor mine, for you to announce later that you've changed your mind and don't want to marry me."
"Well, there is the point that some other young man might take notice of me here and seriously ask me to marry him, but won't if I'm pretending to be engaged to you. Not that I expect any such thing to happen, but if it did, I'd be losing my chance because of this silly nonsense."
He sighed as he led her off the dance floor. "Think about it, Sabrina. You know it won't do any harm, and you might be happily surprised by the results."
Chapter Thirty
Think about it? Sabrina had trouble thinking about anything else during the next hour. What if Raphael was right and Duncan just hadn't figured out yet that he was falling in love with her? That kiss he had treated her to could even support that contention. He had been embarrassed and upset about it, yet why had he kissed her if there was nothing but friendship between them?
But when rational thoughts finally intruded, she knew she wouldn't do it, what Raphael was suggesting. It would be pure deceit just for Duncan's benefit, and she couldn't do that to him. Besides, it might have sounded logical, the way Raphael had put it, but anything could sound logical if twisted just right. That she might want to believe it was sheer foolishness on her part. Playing "what ifs" had never been part of her realistic nature.
And then she put the thought completely away, after her talk with Ophelia.
"Have you noticed how he's trying to make me jealous?" Ophelia purred in her ear. "I think it's rather silly myself, but you can't tell a man that, nor get him to admit that's what he's doing."
The remark, coming as it did from out of nowhere as Ophelia stepped up behind her, confounded Sabrina for a moment. She wasn't usually so dense, but having just been wrestling with the subject of jealousy that had been introduced by Raphael Locke, hearing it now from an entirely different direction actually did confuse her briefly.
She wished she could have retracted her, "Who?" though, as soon as she uttered it, since her confusion did clear before Ophelia gave her the very obvious answer. And she would have preferred, greatly preferred, not to have the conversation that followed.
"Why, Duncan, of course," Ophelia said, then in surprise, "You look surprised."
Sabrina wasn't, but apparently Ophelia had expected her to be, and went on as if she really had looked surprised. "Don't tell me you thought the attention he has been giving you was because he might actually be interested in you?" She added a chuckle here. "My dear, I thought you of all people would know
better."
"I haven't thought any such thing," Sabrina replied, her tone more defensive than she would have liked. "Duncan and I are merely friends."
"You might think so, but that just shows how naive you are. I assure you, it's all a pretense on his part that he hopes I'll notice."
That stung, making Sabrina wonder if that wasn't Ophelia's intention. Sabrina might not be desirable for a wife, but she did like to think she was worthy of friendship. Yet the blond girl was implying that Duncan wouldn't have become friends with her without this ulterior motive.
"Friendship would hardly make you jealous, Ophelia—or would it?"
"Certainly it wouldn't," Ophelia replied impatiently. "But he's hoping I'll think it's more than that, or haven't you got the point yet?"
"No, I guess I missed the point," Sabrina said dryly. "I thought it was about jealousy."
Ophelia actually blushed, but she was decidedly single-minded and got right back to stressing her point. "I was just trying to save you some unpleasant grief, my dear, in case you misunderstood the attention he's given you. But if you were only thinking it's friendship, then you won't be hurt when he marries me."
"No, of course not," Sabrina was forced to say. Though she would have liked to add, I’ll merely pity him, she managed to restrain herself.
"Good," Ophelia replied, and then with a thoughtful frown, "I suppose I should warn Amanda Locke as well. He's doing the same thing with her, if you haven't noticed. And she, at least, would naturally assume his interest is real, rather than contrived for my benefit."
Sabrina was getting rather tired of these subtle insults of Ophelia's, which weren't very subtle to anyone with a modicum of intelligence. She was familiar, by now, with Ophelia's tactics, but for the girl to blatantly use them on her, as if she were too dense or simply too trusting to realize she was being deliberately insulted . ..
"I am well aware of my 'deficiencies,'" she said stiffly. "I am also aware that
Amanda Locke doesn't have any. With all due respect, Ophelia, Duncan's interest in Amanda could be quite genuine."
Ophelia laughed, a sound full of grating confidence. "Certainly it could, but it's not."
"You simply can't know that for sure, Ophelia," Sabrina pointed out.
Ophelia merely tsked and said, "You are so naive, but then you weren't at the inn the other day to see just how much he regrets breaking our engagement. It was so obvious in his every word and action. But I'm sure he will rectify that shortly. He just has this wounded pride of his to deal with first, because of those unfortunate insults I dealt him, and nothing short of punishing me will do, before we can make up. And the silly man has decided that making me jealous will suffice. It's not working, but as long as he thinks it is, he'll be satisfied, I suppose."
A lump was rising in Sabrina's throat, making it difficult to reply, "Then you think that Duncan will ask you to marry him again?"
"I know he will. I don't know why men feel they have to 'get even' when their pride is involved, but they do, and Duncan is no different. But it's just a matter of time, Sabrina, before we're engaged again."
"Are you sure you aren't the one that's harboring false expectations?"
Sabrina couldn't believe she said it. This was Ophelia Reid, after all, the reigning queen of the Season, the most beautiful and desirable debutante to join the marriage mart in a decade, possibly centuries. So she wasn't surprised that Ophelia would be offended.
Her temerity got her a glare and the terse reply, "You have to experience the pursuit before you can understand the nuances of it. Now, how to explain to someone who has never experienced it? Well, one, there was the passionate kiss he gave me at the inn before he stormed out. He obviously didn't want to reveal his feelings quite that dramatically, but simply couldn't help himself. And he's lucky no one witnessed it, or I could have been quite compromised and he would then have been forced to marry me. I don't want that any more than he would, so I've told no one about it—except you, since you are being so obtuse I see no other recourse than to mention it."
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