It was a day before the house party was ending when Fiona burst into the dowager duchess's chamber.

"Lord Winston proposed to me!" she shouted as she pushed open the door.

Gaping at her from within was the Duke himself.

The duchess looked nervously between her son and her companion. And then an awkward silence ensued.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were in here," Fiona stammered, cursing herself for being so repulsive.

"It's alright," he murmured. "I was bound to find out. Or were you planning on keeping it a secret all along?" he added harshly.

"Nathaniel!" his mother bellowed. "You may leave."

"I may, but I won't. Miss Butterworth is my responsibility and I will have certain answers."

The duchess tried to protest but Fiona stopped her. "It's alright, your grace. Now I will have your counsel as well as the Duke's."

"I take it you jumped with joy and said yes?" Nate growled.

"I did not. Do I look joyful to you?" Fiona gaped.

No, she looked anything but, Nate thought with some measure of relief. But that didn't mean she wouldn't say yes in the future.

If she was asking for their counsel, she was probably considering it.

Nate wanted to strangle Fiona. And that damned Winston. And his mother for looking so damned satisfied with herself.

"Well what did you tell him, my dear?" his mother asked her.

"I...um—ran off," she cringed even as she said it. His mother rolled her eyes heavenwards as if asking for divine help.

"What do I tell him?!" she asked, her face crumpling.

"You tell him no," Nate said firmly the same time his mother said, "that you'll think about it."

"She can't think about this, mother! He's not the right man for her, everyone knows that," he said.

"I think he's exactly the right man for her," his mother replied pertly. "He's handsome, titled and generous. Not to mention, good natured," she added with a smirk in Nate's direction, no doubt to make sure the barb struck.

It had and Nate stiffened. Yes, he could be a tad overbearing at times but his responsibilities had made him so. And he knew how to be good natured, he really did!

"But he began this as a bet," he said.

"He did confess everything to me. And he'd intended to marry me from the start," Fiona said thoughtfully, biting her lip.

"He's honest too," his mother announced, spreading her arms with a theatrical flourish.

Nate saw red.

"He's just not right for you, Fiona," he repeated, not bothering to address her formally. He'd touched her and kissed her for god's sakes and he was tired of pretending otherwise.

"I might never get the chance to marry again, your grace. It's nothing short of a miracle that the Earl wants to marry someone like me."

"What do you mean someone like you?"

"Mousy, without any bloodlines to recommend me..."

"You're perfectly beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you," he growled.

Fiona's mouth opened and closed like a fish and his mother was watching him intently.

Good God, what the hell was wrong with him?!

"You think I'm beautiful?" she squeaked.

"Of course," he said gruffly, annoyed that she had to ask. And she was. Her beauty wasn't overtly apparent as Sophia's.

Her beauty was more understated. It lay in the simplicity of her features. He'd thought her plain in the beginning, but then he'd started to notice her more closely.

Her eyes were so dark, he often found himself getting lost in their depths—he knew without a shadow of doubt that he could spend hours just looking into her eyes. Her nose was tiny, giving her a pixie like appearance. But her mouth was plump and pink—and it tasted as good as strawberries. He knew, he'd tasted them.

She was such a petit little thing but she fit well with him. Her hair was perfect—dark like her eyes and soft as silk.

She suited him perfectly. And it had felt like she'd been made for him when he'd been kissing her yesterday.

But Nate had discovered that feelings had no place in this real world.

No matter how much he fantasised about her in his dreams at night and no matter how much he enjoyed her company during the day, what he wanted could never be.

He supposed he could make her his mistress—he wanted her that badly. But he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did such a thing to his wife. And he knew that Fiona would feel the same way.

"If I were a man, Fiona, I would snatch you right up before anyone else could," his mother said, eyeing him meaningfully.

Was his mother trying to tell him something? It didn't make any sense.

"You're biased," Fiona laughed, joining his mother by the bed.

They made such a pretty picture, his mother and Fiona so comfortable and happy to spend time with each other. His heart clenched with longing...longing to join them.

He could never imagine Sophia wanting to spend time with his mother willingly. Hell she hardly spoke two words whenever they met. He'd always thought that his mother was a difficult woman, that she wouldn't allow anyone close to her. But he'd been wrong.

He'd heeded to Fiona's advise and had begun to pay more attention to his mother. He'd been surprised to see the change in her—and himself. He enjoyed talking with her. His mother, it seemed had a deadly sense of humour. It was as if he was rediscovering her.

He felt like an arse for ignoring her all this while.

Fiona had given him the greatest gift, he realised. And he loved her for it.

He loved her.

The realisation came to him like a splash of cold water. He had to leave.

He turned to tell the ladies that he was leaving but they appeared to be lost in whatever conversation they were having so he slipped out quietly.

He'd really bungled it this time.

Lusting after his mother's companion had been bad enough.

But now he was in love with the most troublesome woman in England.

Nate didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. Never had he imagined that he would find love. He'd always assumed that he'd find a woman he could be comfortable with—one who'd make a good duchess. Just his luck that the one woman he did fall in love with couldn't be his duchess.

He wanted to rail at the unfairness of it all.

But his fate had been sealed when he'd been born to this dukedom.