Leslie Lafoy by The Dukes Proposal Page A

of this morning, brandishing a loaded pistol and carrying an injured cat. I couldn’t very well close the door in her face, and by the time the cat and I were both assured of seeing another day, that day had arrived. Given the appearances of her leaving my house in the early morning hours, there wasn’t anything to be done but head off the scandal with a marriage proposal.”
    Harry shook his head, took a single step forward to impede a waiter long enough to get a glass of champagne for himself, and then came back to Ian’s side saying tartly, “In other words, she trapped you.”
    Ian tamped down his flaring anger and looked over at his cousin. “She did no such thing. In fact, she initially refused to accept my proposal.”
    “They all do at first,” Harry assured him in a worldly tone. “It’s part of the whole innocence facade. I can’t believe that a man of your experience fell for it.”
    A man of his experience knew a genuine lady when he saw one. That Harry didn’t was no great surprise, but his willingness to insult out of ignorance was disappointing. Ian turned to face his cousin and met his gaze squarely, saying, “Lady Fiona is a remarkably honest young woman, Harry. Please accept that assertion as fact and don’t tread on her character again.”
    Harry, lackwit that he was, grinned. “You’re actually smitten with her, aren’t you?”
    Smitten? Dim-witted and a romantic. “Hardly,” Ian answered on a snort. “Let’s just say, shall we, that from what I’ve seen so far, she possesses some unique qualities and that I realize that I could have done far worse for myself in the marriage mart.”
    “Her ability to look through people being one of those unique qualities. A rather dubious one, if you ask me.”
    He hadn’t asked and quite frankly didn’t care what his cousin thought. Despite those facts, Ian felt compelled to reply, “Harry, the only people she looks through are those with nothing to see when she searches inside them.”
    “Oh. That’s even more disconcerting. That would suggest that she can see all the dirty little personal secrets.”
    An intriguing thought. What secrets did he have? He’d given John Albright two answers on their final chemistry exam. And he hadn’t told anyone that Morris Preston had robbed a grave for his required dissection cadaver. There was the matter of the mysterious theft of quinine from the medical stores in New Delhi, but to his mind the fact that it had gone to treat local orphans rather balanced out the less-than-scrupulous means of attaining it. That children died in the process of compiling paperwork and making petitions for permission was unacceptable.
    Of course there was the affair with Amanda Masters. If a person were to tally his sins without asking for explanations, cavorting with a fellow doctor’s wife would undoubtedly count heavily against him. How much providing her a happy respite from her deeply unhappy marriage would be to his credit, though … At the time it had seemed not only a justifiable thing to do, but downright honorable.
    And it wasn’t as though he’d walked away without paying a price for the illicit relationship; without telling him, Amanda had named him as her daughter’s guardian in the event of her death. Caring for Charlotte definitely qualified as penance. At least for the moment. Once he and Lady Fiona were—
    “Your mother,” Harry said from beside him, “is not going to be happy with this choice, you know. Lady Fiona’s past isn’t exactly sterling.”
    Through absolutely no fault of her own. “My mother lives to be unhappy. It’s her only satisfaction in life. And I long ago gave up any hope of changing her disposition.”
    “Well, let’s cross our fingers that Lady Fiona can develop a similarly dismissive attitude about her.”
    Ian shrugged and took a sip of his champagne. “It won’t be necessary,” he assured his cousin. “My mother understands the basic reason why she has her