Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

The duke gave him a glass of brandy, and half sat on the heavy mahogany desk nearby.

Westcliff seemed struck by the last words. “You’d move away from the island? You’re that convinced she’s worth it?”

“Of course. There is but one Merritt. And no’ one minute of the day does she cease to be a joy to me.”

That drew the widest, most natural smile Keir had seen yet from Westcliff. “If you can say that after her determined display this afternoon, I think you’ll do well together.”

“’Tis proud I am that she’s such a fine marksman,” Keir assured him. “But it was no’ necessary for her to prove. There was never a chance I would allow her to go into danger with me.”

“You’re a fine young man,” the earl said. “For what it’s worth, the union has my full support. However, marrying a Marsden can be a knotty proposition, even with one as amiable as Merritt. If I may share a bit of hard-won wisdom …”

“Please,” Keir said readily.

“I do a fair amount of riding on my estate,” Westcliff said. “With every single horse I own, I often lay the reins on his neck and let him move forward to find his own natural balance and gait. I’ve seen far too many overbearing riders constantly manage and adjust the horse to force its obedience. Every little toss of the head or momentary hesitation is corrected. A variety of torturous bits, spurs, and straps are employed to make it submit. Some horses endure such treatment, but far more are ruined by it. Their spirits are broken, and their temperaments permanently soured. Always let a horse be a horse.” He paused. “Do you take my meaning?”

“Aye, milord.”

“Was an analogy really necessary, Westcliff?” Kingston asked. “You could have simply said, ‘Please be kind to my headstrong daughter and don’t break her spirit.’”

“Force of habit,” the earl said. “None of my sons pay attention unless it’s horses.” He swallowed the last of his brandy and set the empty glass aside. “I’ll take my leave and let the two of you talk,” he said, and stood. On the way to the threshold, he added, “Incidentally, if it’s ever mentioned that I used that analogy for handling my daughter, I’ll have no choice but to say it’s a vicious lie.”

“I understand,” Keir said, and drowned a grin in his brandy.

Kingston remained half-sitting, half-leaning on the desk. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he said after Westcliff had left, “how was it left with Merritt?”

Keir gave him a resigned glance. “If I don’t take her to Islay, it somehow proves I don’t value her as a partner.”

“That’s the Marsden streak,” Kingston said dryly. “Not a single one of Westcliff’s brood doesn’t fantasize about saving the day in one way or another.”

“’Tis because I value her that she can’t go.”

“She’ll come to understand.”

“I hope so.” Keir took another swallow of brandy and sighed shortly. “She’ll have more than enough opportunities to save the day in the coming months and years.”

The duke crossed his long legs and idly regarded the tips of his polished shoes. “Keir … I believe I understand some of what you’re feeling. Particularly the part about facing a mountain of responsibilities for which you’ve never prepared. However, you’re absolutely capable of handling it all, and eventually you’ll find the right people to manage your affairs. Meanwhile, I can think of no other woman more perfectly suited to help you through it than Merritt.”

“What about the people in her circles? The fancy folk.”

“What of them?”

“Will they give her a hard time of it, for marrying below herself?”

Kingston appeared mildly startled. “Below? Your rank and pedigree are superior to hers. Not only are you the son of a duke, but on your mother’s side, you’re descended from an ancient Saxon family.”

“But manners, bearing, education—”

“Irrelevant. Above all, society respects lineage. Therefore, you’ll find their expectations of you and your behavior will be most elastic. If you descend into lunacy, they’ll call you delightfully eccentric. If you act the dullard, they’ll praise your refreshing lack of pretense.”

A reluctant grin spread across Keir’s face.

“Whatever you may need,” Kingston said, “in the way of advice, connections, capital, or anything else, do not hesitate to come to me. I’m always at your service.” He paused. “Later, when there’s an opportunity, I want to introduce you to your two remaining siblings. You would enjoy their company. You and Gabriel, in particular, are much alike in temperament. He married into the Ravenel family, and his wife is a thoroughly charming woman—”

“Oh, Pandora is my favorite!” came a new voice from the doorway, and they both glanced at the threshold where Seraphina was standing. “She’s very witty and fun, and a bit odd in the nicest possible way.” With her slender form clad in a green dress, and her brilliant golden-red hair trailing over her shoulder in a thick braid, she reminded Keir of a mermaid. “May I interrupt just for a moment?” she asked, beaming at them both. “I have something important to show Keir.”