“You could have waited. You should have waited.” The duke paused, his eyes narrowing with alarm. “Unless there is a specific need for the marriage to occur with undue haste?”

A chill of anger swept through Carter at the inference. “You dishonor me, sir, by asking such a callous, inappropriate question.” He cared little for his own reputation, for it was hardly stellar. However, he would not allow his future wife’s honor and integrity to be impugned, even by his own father. “The time frame is perfectly acceptable, and I will insist to you that there is no need for a hasty wedding. We are not running off to Gretna Green nor arranging for a ceremony by special license. The banns shall be dutifully read and we will marry in three weeks’ time.”

“Three weeks?” The duke rubbed his hands together. “Hmm, then there is still time for you to reconsider.”

“Sir, you have continually badgered me to get married and now that I have chosen a bride, you wish me to call off the wedding?” Carter’s jaw clenched in anger. He paced off the carpet and onto the intricate parquet floor, his boot heels clicking loudly.

The duke leaned forward, closing his hands on the newspaper spread on his desk. “I want you to call off this wedding, to this particular female. After a reasonable amount of time has passed, I then want you to select a bride from the women on my list. You still have it, don’t you?”

“I do not!” Though in that moment Carter desperately wished he did have the list on his person, just so he could crumple it in his father’s face before tossing it into the fireplace. “I swear, I shall not be held accountable for my actions if you mention that damn list once more, sir. I shall choose my bride, not you.”

The duke’s hand balled into a tight fist. He stood, paced, turned, then banged his closed fist on his desktop. “Why must you be so infernally stubborn?”

“I am your son,” Carter blurted out, not bothering to hide his irritation. “I come by my stubbornness naturally.”

“You get it from your mother’s side of the family,” the duke grumbled. He took a long, deep breath, then slowly sank down into his chair. His face was as dark as a thundercloud until suddenly he smiled. “If you insist upon this course of action, then I insist upon meeting Miss Ellingham immediately.”

Ah, so that’s how he was going to play it. Denied his way, the duke now planned to intimidate and essentially frighten off Miss Ellingham. As if that could ever work! Carter forced an answering smile. “If you cannot control your temper any better than you are, sir, you will meet my fiancée at the church on the morning of our wedding.”

The duke looked at him cautiously, and Carter had the distinct impression his father was weighing the threat in his mind.

“I view your Miss Ellingham as a social upstart and a fortune hunter,” the duke replied. “And I’ll make no bones about the matter. Mark my words, she’s after your title and your money.”

“Perhaps she has fallen in love with me,” Carter suggested casually.

“Fallen in love with your money, you mean.”

Carter squared his shoulders. “Your flattering assessment of my personal charm aside, I firmly believe Miss Ellingham is not a fortune hunter. She is a very comely female, genteel in her upbringing. True, she has no great family connections or wealth, but I have enough of that for the both of us. We will suit, Father. That’s all that matters.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed into sharp points. “You’re damn quick to defend her.”

“She will be my wife and as such deserves every courtesy.”

Gradually the duke’s hard expression faded. “I can see I am wasting my breath arguing the point with you.”

“You are, indeed.”

“All right, then. I will withhold my final judgment until I meet the girl.” The duke took on a serious expression. “You will bring her to dinner this evening.”

“I have plans.”

“Break them.”

Carter gulped, his sense of victory short-lived. He had confidence that his future bride could cope with his father, but she would need time to prepare herself. “I am certain Miss Ellingham is also engaged for the evening.”

The duke waved his hand dismissively. “’Tis far more important for her to meet me and gain my approval of this match. She can be late to whatever event she had planned to attend.”

Carter turned his head and cursed under his breath.

“I heard that,” the duke muttered.

“You were meant to,” Carter countered. He took a deep breath, allowing his anger to cool. Eyeing his father thoughtfully, Carter realized he might as well get the meeting between the duke and Miss Ellingham over with. A day or two would not make that much difference. Either she had the backbone to stomach the duke or else she would have to try to avoid him for a good part of their marriage. “We will be here at eight.”

“Sharp,” the duke commanded, his brows tightly pinched.

Carter flinched, but did not answer. He would need to send an urgent note to his fiancée and beg her indulgence to change her plans. And to sweeten the last-minute request, he would wisely add an expensive bauble as further enticement.

The tersely worded note from Lord Atwood arrived when Dorothea rose from an afternoon nap. She had not been sleeping well at night, making the occasional afternoon rest a necessity if she was to keep her eyes open and her conversation coherent during these late-night social events. Her initial delight at hearing from her fiancé was quickly dispelled when she learned the reason for the message was a request to dine with his father. That very evening.

She had heard the gossip about her future father-in-law and none of it had instilled a great desire to meet him. He was said to be a harsh man, a stickler for propriety, a man much enamored of his own rank and position. Even Lord Dardington had once referred to him as a horror, and he feared no one.

Dorothea highly doubted the meeting was intended to welcome her into the family. Oh, no, she felt certain the duke desired just the opposite.

“Please, Lady Meredith, help me decide what I should wear,” Dorothea pleaded as the two women stood together in front of her open wardrobe. “I do not want to give the duke any reason to find fault with me.”

“If he judges you solely on your appearance, he is even more of a fool than I thought,” Lady Meredith quipped.

Dorothea blanched. “Maybe I should decline the invitation. I could beg off, telling Lord Atwood I was feeling ill.” She cast a hopeful look at Lady Meredith, then belatedly realized there was far too much truth in the statement. She had been feeling decidedly queasy ever since the note arrived.

“You shall never best the duke if you avoid him.” Lady Meredith’s grim expression softened. “You need to let him know that you are serious about your marriage and your new position in society.”

Dorothea nodded and stared at the floor as she considered her options. She needed to be reasonable, even if the duke was not, given the very late hour the invitation was issued. She needed also to remember that she was doing this to accommodate her future husband. It was important that Carter realize she was willing to make sacrifices when necessary. Of course, it was equally important that he understand there were limits to her patience and affability.

“White can give my complexion a dull, washed-out look at times,” Dorothea remarked, questioning the choice of the gown Lady Meredith had selected from the bulging wardrobe. “I think the red silk gown would be better.”

“There are many shades of white,” Lady Meredith protested, holding the gown against Dorothea’s chest. “This one in particular sets off your hair and eyes. The satin sheen is delicate and flattering. Plus, white should effectively complement whatever Lord Atwood has sent you.”

Lady Meredith motioned to the maid, who held out a small black velvet pouch. Hastily untying the gold cord, Dorothea pulled out a pair of teardrop-shaped earrings and a matching emerald pendant. She gasped. The brilliant green of the many-faceted stones shimmered in the fading daylight, dazzling in their sparkle.

“They are magnificent,” Dorothea exclaimed.

“What does the note say?” Lady Meredith asked.

“Beautiful jewels are meant for a beautiful woman. I hope you will favor my request and wear them tonight.” Dorothea sighed. It was a romantic gesture that stirred a variety of complex emotions inside her. Was he wooing her? Trying to please or impress her? Or was he arming her for this meeting with his father? Thinking the latter might be his prime motivation left Dorothea with a vaguely dissatisfied feeling.

“It’s settled. You will wear them tonight with your white gown,” Lady Meredith insisted. “They will give you a regal air and display most effectively to the duke that you are a worthy bride for his son.”

Dubiously, Dorothea accepted the magnificent jewelry, concerned that Lady Meredith had hit upon the most unsettling reason the jewels might have been gifted to her. Yet later that evening, as Dorothea surveyed herself in the cheval glass, her reflection gave her pause. Lady Meredith was right. The gown and jewels gave her a noble, mature look, boosting her flagging confidence. Perhaps the exact reason for the gift was not as important as the result.

Carter’s approving smile when she entered the front hall also gave her a lift. She thanked him prettily for the jewelry and would have even ventured a kiss, had not Lord and Lady Dardington, along with half a dozen servants, been watching.

Carter distracted her with amusing small talk on the carriage ride and she felt herself start to relax. The even mood stayed with her until they divested themselves of their outer garments and passed them to two silent, formally attired footmen.