For the first time since the conversation began, no sharp retort came from Gideon.

The firstborn son of the late duke and duchess, a couple whose union had been blessed in every way, had died young. The duchess, frail in constitution and having suffered repeated miscarriages, had finally produced an heir after eight long years of struggle. That heir was Gideon.

Jonathan’s father had been the closest male relative and the most likely successor, but every prospect vanished the moment Gideon was born. Jonathan’s family, who had counted on inheriting the title, was naturally devastated. Whether for that reason or another, Gideon and Jonathan had never gotten along, not even as children. They maintained a surface appearance of civility for the sake of the family’s reputation, and nothing more.

“It may be a little sooner than you planned, but isn’t it time you fulfilled your duties as Duke of Reverton? Unlike us women, men don’t change so very much just because they marry.”

Pressing further, she recited the names and particulars of several young ladies she had privately considered.

“What about Harriet Chaworren, the Marquis’s daughter? She has a reputation for being impeccably gentle and proper.”

“Have you forgotten that her aunt is the queen’s chief lady-in-waiting? I have no intention of becoming another Prince Albert, married or not. That woman would whine and report my every move to her aunt, and her aunt, ever the faithful attendant, would relay every word straight to the queen.”

An unladylike word Gideon had just taught her threatened to escape. Leonora confined it to the inside of her head and offered another name.

“Then what about Miss Ellis Hawood, the Baronet’s daughter? I saw her two or three times at balls last season. A charming girl, bright and lively. Her father is a first-generation baronet, so there’s no family tradition to speak of, but she has none of the palace connections you despise, and she’s the heiress to a considerable fortune. Baronet Hawood would hand over half his entire estate as a dowry if it meant a match with the ducal family.”

“It seems the rumors about her haven’t reached the palace yet. When her marriage is announced before long, watch how many months it takes before a child arrives.”

Suppressing with superhuman effort the urge to box him on the ear as she had when they were children, Leonora moved on to the next candidate.

“Then what about Jane Grey, the widowed Countess? I’m not saying this merely because her late husband was a relation… she truly is a warm and good person. She would make exactly the kind of obedient, proper wife you say you want. And one of the manors belonging to her family, the Ashton marquisate, borders that Scottish estate you purchased not long ago. If you were to request it as a dowry…”

He had bought that property solely for the stud farm attached to it. Frankly, more land was the last thing he wanted. He maintained what had been handed down through generations because it was his obligation, but acquiring new holdings was, in Gideon’s view, an anachronism.

He had no intention of proposing to Jane Grey, and explaining all of this felt tedious. He kept it brief.

“Anyone who sees how she handles her hounds and horses will find she isn’t quite so warm.”

Leonora finally lost her patience.

“What kind of woman do you actually want?”

It was a net with no way out, short of leaving England for a very long time or waiting for the queen to die. But he had obligations, and a title that had to be passed on to the next generation. Above all, he could not allow Jonathan’s family, who had made his mother’s life a misery, to claim everything she and his father had built.

‘I will never let that happen.’

Cursing his own circumstances, Gideon laid out the qualities he had long considered desirable in a wife.

“No influential relatives who could interfere in my affairs at every turn, so a title isn’t necessary. A gentleman’s family is sufficient. Moderate looks… enough that sharing a bed until a son is produced won’t be unbearable. An educated, obedient woman. That sort of wife won’t disrupt my life in any significant way, and once an heir exists, our obligations to each other will be concluded.”

Most of the nobility entered marriage as a carefully calculated contract, each party serving their own interests. There was nothing particularly condemnable about it. Even so, Leonora… one of the rare few in their world who had married for love… found it distasteful.

“And what would you give your wife in return?”

“The rank of duchess and a comfortable life. Isn’t that what every woman wants? If I weren’t a wealthy duke, do you honestly think those ambitious mothers and their daughters would give me a second glance?”

“You would be attractive enough even without the wealth and the title.”

For the first time that evening, a faint smile crossed Gideon’s face.

“You’re actually paying me a compliment. The sun must be rising in the west. I appreciate the generous assessment. But spare me the flattery and relay this to Her Majesty: I will marry, but I ask for a little time. Finding a woman who meets my requirements will take some effort.”

It was a pity she hadn’t managed to pin down a specific candidate as well. Still, this was a remarkable outcome on its own. Her mood lifted, and she allowed herself a lightly sardonic parting remark.

“If you mean what you say, don’t go far. Start with Sir Roberts’s daughter, who lives next to the Hampshire estate. She was a remarkably pretty child. If you’re lucky, she may have grown into a beautiful, obedient young woman. I believe the knighthood Sir Roberts received is the only title that family holds.”

It was said to needle him, a jab at his selfishness. By the time Leonora climbed into her carriage, she had already forgotten every word of that last piece of advice.

For the duke, however, leaning back against the study settee, it was another matter entirely.

A faint memory surfaced… something about a retired gentleman living near the Hampshire estate. A man who had earned a knighthood would have distinguished himself considerably, which meant there was nothing embarrassing about the connection.

The manors surrounding Hampshire were all modest in scale, apart from the Reverton holdings. The risk of being plagued by a troublesome in-law situation was low.

A country landowner’s daughter would weep with gratitude at a proposal from a duke. Better still, if he allowed her to remain in Hampshire near her family, there would be no complaints about loneliness even when he only visited occasionally. A quiet wife tucked away in the country, while he continued to move freely between England and the Continent as he always had. The more he turned it over, the more sensible it seemed.

‘She’s saved me the tedious business of searching for a suitable bride. Meddlesome as she is, Leonora does have her uses on occasion.’

He placed Sir Roberts’s daughter… whose name he did not yet know… at the top of his list of prospective brides.

A thorough investigation of the woman who might become his duchess, and of her family, was essential. Without delay, he reached for the bell pull.

The butler, who had not managed to sleep a wink after the uproar, came hurrying at once.

“Send word to Alden. Tell him to come immediately.”