Free A Good Debutante's Guide to Ruin by Sophie Jordan Page B

assuming Aunt Peregrine was quite capable of ushering the girl about Town. Apparently he had been correct. His aunt had proven herself very adept. Perhaps too much. The girl had already garnered a proposal.
    He quickly squashed his annoyance with his aunt. She had accomplished for Rosalie what she had not yet accomplished with her own daughter. She was to be commended. He was free of her.
    He realized that Strickland was still talking.
“ . . . so I wanted to be the first to declare myself.” His smile wobbled and he looked a little sheepish. “I imagine she will attract other offers, but—­”
    â€œI accept.”
    â€œWh-­What?”
    â€œRosalie will be honored, I am certain.”
    Strickland blinked. “Truly?”
    Dec nodded, ignoring the small niggle of discomfort at the back of his throat. This was what he wanted. The fact that it happened sooner than expected was a boon he should not examine too closely. Strickland was a good man. He came from good family. He was reputed to be a gentleman. Certainly, Dec had never seen him at Sodom or any of the other less than reputable places he had frequented over the years. She could do much worse. She could have ended up with someone like you .
    The thought came unbidden, and he shoved it aside. He’d never agree for her to marry a man of his ilk. It would be unconscionable. She might be Melisande’s daughter, but he would do his duty by her and make certain she only joined with an honorable man.
    He focused on Strickland again. Once again the man was babbling, his hands moving rapidly with his enthusiasm as he discussed a spring wedding.
    Dear God . Did Strickland actually think he gave a damn over the wedding particulars? He pushed off from where he leaned against the mantel. “You’ve my blessing. I leave you to discuss plans with my aunt.”
    â€œVery good, Your Grace.” The much shorter man seized his hand and pumped it in a handshake several times, simultaneously clapping Dec on the back. For one terrible moment it actually looked as though the man would hug him.
    â€œCongratulations, Strickland.” He extricated himself and made his way to the door. “I believe you can locate my aunt in the salon. Rosalie will likely be with her. You’re family now. You’re welcome to find your way there and tell them the happy news.”
    Strickland ran a hand over his bald, perspiring scalp. “Indeed. I shall go find them directly.”
    â€œGood day.” Turning on his heels, he strode from the room, from the house, not considering the clipped pace of his stride. Or that he found himself looking over his shoulder several times, watching as the earl practically skipped toward the salon. Or that his stomach churned like he had just consumed a bad bit of fish.
    She would be a countess. He had done his duty by her. And some.
    Any female would be thrilled from such an arrangement. He should be thrilled.
    A vigorous bout at Jackson’s Saloon would do him some good. Suddenly, he felt the need to unleash himself.
    â€œI beg your pardon, my lord?” Rosalie’s hands curled into fists in her lap. “Could you repeat yourself?”
    Certainly she had misheard. Or misunderstood.
    In fact, nothing Strickland had said since he entered the salon made a dash of sense to her. Nor did she even quite understand his unexpected presence here at all. He had not mentioned calling upon her last night, and on the heels of her conversation with Aurelia, she was not feeling kindly disposed to his sudden appearance.
    â€œWe’re to be married!” Strickland dropped beside her on the sofa where she sat before the fireplace, a book forgotten in her lap. For once, his speech rang clear and loud.
    She looked from his eager countenance to Aunt Peregrine and Aurelia, who stared back at her with a cocked eyebrow that seemed to say: See there, I told you so .
    â€œAre you mad?” The words escaped