The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(22)

“Oh, lud,” Meagan said under her breath. If he thought Michael would twitter at the prospect of riches and say, “Of course, Your Grace, you honor me,” he read her father very wrong.

“She is my daughter, sir,” Michael said stiffly. “Not cattle.”

“Michael, darling,” Simone murmured. “Pray, do not upset him.”

Alexander touched a paper on his desk, the movement economical. “I have put the documents in order this morning—special license, settlements, provision for money and jewels for Miss Tavistock during her lifetime, and arrangements for a staff of her own.” His gaze fixed on Michael. “I assure you, she will be well provided for.”

“I have no doubt she will be,” Michael said, his tone sharp. “If Prince Damien is any indication, you Nvengarians are thorough.” He cleared his throat. “But though I do not like to give credence to gossip, the stories I hear of you make me pause. You did your best to assassinate Damien last year, and now I am told our own king is terrified of you. Your name is prominent on the guest lists of the most important social affairs, and you dine often with the Duke of Wellington and every other leader in the House of Lords. My wife reads the society papers avidly, and tells me all.”

Simone gave a nod, acknowledging that she was a good source of information.

Michael went on, “My wife also tells me of your less savory activities—your mistresses, for instance. I dislike to bring up such a topic in front of my daughter, but I wish Meagan to realize exactly what kind of man you are. I do not believe in hiding the truth from her.”

“Nor do I,” Alexander said without missing a beat.

Meagan shifted in her chair, uncomfortably warm in the deep red room. Alexander would have prepared answers for every single question a worried father could throw at him. He was that sort of gentleman.

“If Miss Tavistock marries me, she need have no qualms about my fidelity,” Alexander answered calmly.

Michael flushed. “But there is still the question—why have you singled out our unimportant family? There must be many prominent ladies scattered about Europe who will benefit Nvengaria in a political marriage.”

Again, Alexander would not look directly at Meagan but skimmed his gaze over her and focused on Michael. “When I met Miss Tavistock, I made my choice.”

And that should be enough, his tone implied.

“Forgive me for being a concerned father,” Michael said dryly.

“That you are has earned my respect,” Alexander said, his voice equally dry.

Michael drew a breath and tried another tack. “And where would Meagan live? In Nvengaria?”

“She will live in London for now, here in Maysfield House,” Alexander answered. “She will be given the title of Grand Duchess of Nvengaria and all the privileges and wealth that accompany the rank, which are considerable, I assure you—houses and properties in Nvengaria, plus the Grand Duchess’ jewels.”

Michael watched him closely, ignoring Simone, who had slid to the edge of her seat at the mention of houses and jewels.

“Your offer flatters my daughter, Your Grace, it is true,” Michael said. “But this marriage would put her among strangers, and you would not stay in London forever. Also, Meagan would be much in the public eye, as you are, and she is not used to that.”

“She will be instructed,” Alexander said.

Michael inclined his head. “I grant you have provided for everything. But I must ask again, why? We have few connections, and truth be told, we are not overly burdened with wealth.”

Alexander’s eyes, chips of ice, moved almost to Meagan then back to Michael.

Meagan sprang to her feet, her heart beating rapidly in embarrassment and anger. “This is easily settled, father. I will refuse his suit and we will all return home.”

“Oh, no you will not,” Simone broke in fiercely, sending Meagan a glare. “His Grace is making a kind, and may I say it, very generous offer the like of which we will not see again. As your father says, we are not important, so he must be offering for only one reason.” She turned her wide smile on Alexander. “You fell in love with her, did you not, Your Grace?”

Alexander’s expression did not change. “That is true, Mrs. Tavistock. I fell in love.”

Simone turned to Michael in triumph. “There, you see?”

“Did you?” Michael asked Alexander, voice stiff. “According to my wife, Meagan met you only last night and you danced one dance. Based on this, you are prepared to offer her jewels, money, houses, property, and a title?”

Alexander’s brows drew together the slightest bit, a powerful man beginning to be perturbed by the vassals at his feet. Meagan expected at any moment he’d flick his fingers at Gaius and laconically tell him to throw her parents into the street.

She wondered at Alexander’s silence, however. All he had to do was explain that he’d compromised Meagan, and his argument for marrying her would be clinched. Then Meagan would die of mortification right here on his elegant red rug.

She sprang to her feet. “Father,” she said rapidly. “May I speak to Alexander—I mean, His Grace—alone for a moment? Please?”

Alexander’s eyes flickered and Michael turned to her in perplexity. They were both going to argue with her, drat and blast them.

Simone saved the moment by rising eagerly. “Of course, my dear. Come along, Michael. It is obvious that His Grace and Meagan need to work things out between them.”