Page 56 of The Courtship Dance

“Oh,” he said at last, weakly. Finally, squaring his shoulders again, he went on in a subdued voice, “I beg your pardon, sir. I—I shall not bother you further.” He bowed toward Rochford and then toward Francesca. “Ma’am.”

He turned to leave, and Rochford said, “Tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”

Browning swiveled back around to face him. “Then you—you’ll still interview me?”

“Yes. Love makes fools of us all, I fear. I would like to speak to you under…better circumstances.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The young man’s face underwent a lightning change, eager hope spreading over his features. “I am so…Thank you.”

He seemed to think better of any lengthier speech, and simply gave another bow and strode out of the room.

“Well,” Francesca said lightly. “So now you are finding husbands for your prospective wives.”

He turned back to her, giving her a half smile. “I did not find him. He was presented to me.”

“But you are going to make it possible for her to marry him.”

He shrugged and returned to his seat opposite her. “I find I have little interest in wooing a woman who is in love with another man.”

“Were you interested in wooing her?”

“I tried to be.”

“So all these things—the ride in the park, calling on her—they were—”

“Conversations about her desire to marry Mr. Browning and how that could be achieved.”

No wonder Mary Calderwood had sung the duke’s praises the other night! Now her conversation with the girl appeared in an entirely different light. Mary had thought herself lucky not because the duke wanted her, but because he was helping her to obtain the husband she desired.

Francesca chuckled. “I should be cross with you. You led me to believe that you were interested in her!”

“I did not say any such thing.”

Had he not? She could not remember exactly what had been said. But he certainly had not told her the complete truth regarding the girl; he had never mentioned a word about this scheme to find employment for the man she loved.

It was probably something she should be miffed about, she thought, but she could not bring herself to care.

“Do you still intend to give the man the living at St. Swithin’s?” Francesca asked.

“Probably.” He shrugged. “It would be a welcome change, I imagine, to the people of St. Swithin’s, to have a vicar who cared passionately about anything. The last one could barely keep his eyes open during his own sermons.”

“You do not think he is a trifle…impulsive?”

A grin touched Rochford’s lips. “He is that. One hopes today may have taught him a lesson. If he seems seriously unstable tomorrow, I shall not offer it to him, of course. But he is young and in love, and one does foolish things at such times.”

“Yes, one does,” Francesca agreed quietly. That was one thing she knew far too well.

She finished her tea in the best of spirits and was, frankly, tempted to linger. However, as she had plans to attend the opera that evening with Sir Alan and his daughter, she had to take her leave.

Rochford, unsurprisingly, insisted that she and her maid be driven home in his carriage rather than walking the few blocks to her house. Francesca, leaning back against the luxurious leather seats, contemplated the meaning of her discovery. Rochford had already ruled out Althea Robart and Caroline Wyatt, and now it was clear that he had no interest in Mary Calderwood, either.

Was he not serious about pursuing a wife? In that case, what was she to make of his comment regarding an engagement announcement at the ball?

It could be that one of the two choices remaining would catch his interest—or had already done so. After all, Damaris seemed the most prepared to take on the duties of a duchess, and Lady de Morgan was the most attractive of all the prospects. However, Francesca had seen little about the duke that bespoke a man in love with either prospect. He had not mentioned either of the women even once. And according to the gossip, only Lady Mary had appeared to be the object of his pursuit.

But if he was not serious about marriage, then why had he come to her and asked for her help with the ball?

And in light of the ball and its intent, why had he kissed her?