she has hope, it is only because she’s heard the rumor that you are to marry.”
Farthingham gave a devilish grin. “I daresay it is not rumor but fact.” His smile evolved into one reflecting pride. “She’s lovely, Weddington. I have to confess to considering myself quite fortunate that she favors me. She could have her choice of gentlemen, don’t you know.”
“So, it is not money alone that draws you to her?”
Farthingham grimaced. “I hope that rumors regarding my financial straits aren’t going about as well.”
“Does she not know?”
“Of course she knows. She’s not only lovely beyond belief, but damned smart. Her father made his wealth in railroads and banking. Our solicitors have been hammering away at the settlement for close to a month now.”
“I’ll admit to being surprised to hear you were to wed.”
Farthingham averted his gaze, seeming to take great interest in all the goings-on surrounding them. “I have the regrettable misfortune of being the firstborn son. What choice do I have, except to take a wife? The family coffers are empty. It is my duty to see after the welfare of my family and provide an heir. My only hope of avoiding my obligations is to die and allow my younger brother to inherit.”
“And that alternative has certain disadvantages.”
“Decidedly so.” Farthingham’s face suddenly lit up. “Here comes my salvation now. I do believe you’ll find her to your liking.”
Richard turned, and everything within him stilled at the exact moment that the joy in Kitty’s eyes transformed from actuality to pretence. All the poise seemed to drain out of her.
“Kitty, my sweet,” said Farthingham. “Don’t let my friend’s stern visage put you off. He’s not nearly as frightening as he appears.”
Richard was suddenly conscious of the fact that he did not have Farthingham’s aristocratic features and blond coloring. Richard was as dark as a storm, his face weathered by the sea and regret.
“Kitty, allow me to introduce His Grace, Richard Stanbury, the sixth Duke of Weddington. And, Weddington, it is with even greater pleasure that I introduce toyou Miss Mary Ellen Robertson. Her dearest friends call her Kitty.”
Mary Ellen. He could have easily overlooked her announcement in the newspaper. He bowed. “Miss Robertson.”
“Your Grace.” She curtsied, a rosy hue working its way up her face.
“I believe I’ve mentioned the duke on occasion, haven’t I?” Farthingham asked.
Her gaze darted between Richard and Farthingham. Had he never seen her smile at dawn, he might not have realized how forced her smile was now.
“Yes”—she nodded quickly—“you mentioned him.”
“I hope he was not too unflattering,” Richard replied.
“On the contrary, Your Grace, Nicky thinks most highly of you.”
Nicky . She’d wrapped a wealth of warmth around the name. A name Richard had never heard applied to Farthingham, not even in his most intimate circles. No doubt her pet name for him.
“I can understand now why he considers himself a man of fortune,” Richard said.
A fire sparked within her eyes. “If one does not measure fortune by its weight in gold.”
“Which I assure you I do not,” Farthingham interjected.
“I meant no offense,” Richard assured her. “Perhaps you’d honor me with a dance later in the evening.”
She angled her head triumphantly. “I fear, Your Grace, that my dance card is already filled.”
Sharp disappointment rammed into him, while Farthingham laughed, the resounding chuckle ringing with gratification.
“It seems I am not the only one who is won over by Kitty’s charms. Surely one dance is available,” Farthingham said.
She shifted her gaze to Farthingham. “I’m afraid not.”
“Then scratch someone’s name off your dance card, my sweet, someone of a lesser rank.”
“That would be rude. I won’t make another gentleman feel less worthy by casting him aside.”
“No one will be offended, no feelings will