To Marry the Duke's Daughter (After the Masquerade) by Ashley Stormes Page A

enough to deduce
the truth. I want her to know that I tried to call on her, and that I will try
again when I can prove to her father that I am telling the truth. I will be able to provide for her. I do
not want her to fear that I lied to her, or that I have abandoned her because
the road has become too difficult. I have faced my share of battles, and I
never shied away from them. Sometimes it was necessary to retreat so I could
regroup my forces, but I always rallied and charged again. I see no reason to
change my tactics now.
    “These roses are all I can give her
right now, but someday I will be able to give her more. She already has my
heart.”
    Chattrecombe cleared his throat. “I
will see that she receives the roses on one condition.”
    Jonathon raised a single eyebrow.
    “The duke told me to shoot you if you
dared to come near his daughter. He has his reasons for protecting her, Mr.
White, and if you truly love her you will stay away—to regroup your
forces, if you will. Do not try to test his patience. Do not try to meet with
her, or write her, or arrange an elopement. His focus is on protecting her and
providing for her; he cannot do so while bothered with you. Once his affairs
are arranged, he might view you with a friendlier eye and give you a chance to
court her. I cannot guarantee much, but there is a chance, small as it is.”
    “That sounds like more than one condition,”
Jonathon murmured, carefully digesting the butler’s words. “But I suppose it
can all be summed up as an order to avoid her for the foreseeable future.
Though London can be a surprisingly small city, I offer you my word that I will
do everything in my power to avoid a confrontation. It goes against my honour
to court her without her father’s blessing.”
    Chattrecombe sighed and tucked the
pistol away. “Good. I hoped you would be a reasonable man.” He tilted his
chin up and studied the faint stars for a moment, as if contemplating the very
existence of the universe. Chattrecombe’s next words came grudgingly, and
Jonathon wondered if the butler was speaking against his better judgement. “It
will not be so difficult to avoid her, Mr. White. Avondale is taking her from
London tomorrow. I do not know when they will return.”
    Jonathon swallowed heavily.
“Tomorrow?” He would not even be able to catch a glimpse of her before she
disappeared into the countryside.
    The butler nodded apologetically. “I
will remain here to convey…news. While I can see that Lady Felicity receives
the roses, I will not be able to tell her anything about you. The duke will be
furious enough about the flowers, if he finds out. As I said, he has too much
to worry about without thinking of his daughter’s marriage to a man who may or
may not be a fortune hunter.”
    “But—would it be too much to
ask…” Jonathon took a deep breath. “Will you let me know about her welfare?”
    “Perhaps,” Chattrecombe replied, his
expression as vague as his words. “That will all depend on you, Mr. White.
Just because I am willing to believe your words does not mean I will wilfully
dismiss anything that hints at dishonesty. Lady Felicity is like a daughter to
me; I will have no part in seeing her injured in any way.”
    Jonathon consented, grateful that the
butler was at least willing to believe him. If he could prove to Chattrecombe
that he was sincere, Avondale might take him seriously whenever the duke
decided to return to London. Whatever circumstances were haunting the duke,
Jonathon needed to be careful not to give in to his own problems. Perhaps
Felicity’s absence from his life would be a good thing; he could focus his
attentions on his finances and keeping his brother’s prying fingers from his pocketbook.
There was an old saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Time and
separation would force Jonathon to look into the heart of his emotions and
determine if his affections for Felicity were truly love, or merely the
throbbing of a