Undercover Duke

otherwise.
How very interesting.
“But you will come to Thorncliff this evening, won’t you?” he went on. “You and your mother?”
She let him change the subject. “Surely you didn’t really mean to invite us. You merely found yourself trapped when I overheard your invitation to Mr. Juncker.”
“Not in the least. Thorn was quite clear on the subject. I was to invite you both. Besides, it would be remiss of me if I didn’t invite the woman I’m supposedly courting.” He leaned close. “And it will give you plenty of chances to make Juncker jealous.”
Sheridan’s bargain with her—if she could call it that—still made no sense. Why did he care whether she snagged Juncker? Until now, Sheridan had barely wished to spend one dance with her, so why engineer a faux engagement where they were forced to be together? She couldn’t quite believe his assertion that he would do it just to be proved right about Mr. Juncker’s character. Yet she couldn’t imagine any other reason, unless he wanted to court her in truth, perhaps for her dowry, assuming that the gossip was correct. But if so, why not just come out with it? For all he knew, Grey already could have told her of Sheridan’s need to marry for money.
Then again, Sheridan was a proud and taciturn sort.
“I would certainly love to attend the affair,” she said, “if only to have the opportunity to see Thornstock’s mansion. I’ve heard that Thorncliff is magnificent.” She gazed down the corridor at the open door to Uncle Noah’s box. “But I can’t go without a chaperone, and Mama and I together can’t go without Uncle Noah.”
“Bring Sir Noah along. Truly, it will be very informal, only a few close friends and family. There might be dancing, and you can try to finagle Juncker into dancing with you.”
She eyed him closely. “I’m surprised Thornstock would allow any of my family into his home. Mama isn’t exactly . . . welcome at any of Grey’s houses, and Thornstock is not only bound to know that but be well aware of why. As is your mother.”
Sheridan sobered. “To be honest, we’re all aware that your mother is persona non grata to Grey, although he won’t tell us the full reason for his dislike of her. Do you happen to know?”
Bother it all. She did know. But if Grey hadn’t revealed the secret, she certainly wouldn’t.
As if guessing why she was reluctant, Sheridan added, “I do know it has naught to do with you.”
“I should hope not. I was only eleven when he left our home. I didn’t see him again until I was the age to have my coming out.”
“Grey had something to do with your debut?”
“He was more than happy to help with it and to indulge my occasional visits to his London town house through the years, for which I shall always be grateful. Because of that, I’m loath to bring Mama to an affair which he no doubt will also attend, along with his mother, your mother. I know Mama and your mother knew each other well once, but their paths have definitely diverged.”
“That’s true,” Sheridan said. “But Grey is still in the country, and Mother is helping Olivia with the supper, so she’ll be too busy to care. Thus Thorn won’t mind one bit if the three of you come.”
“You’re certain? I don’t want our presence to cause trouble in the family.”
“It won’t, I promise. I daresay he won’t even notice you’re all there. He’s got stars in his eyes now that he’s married to Olivia.”
The sudden tightness in his voice gave her pause. “Do you not approve of her?”
He blinked. “No, no, nothing like that. Olivia’s wonderful. It’s just that . . . well, I thought Thorn and I would be bachelors together, unless I was forced into matrimony. He never seemed like the marrying sort. God knows I’m not.”
“Why?” she asked, her stomach sinking. “You’re perfectly personable and aren’t a carouser like him. I’ve never even heard of you associating with a . . . demi-rep. And aside from your woeful tendency to tell women what to do at all times, you—”
“I don’t tell women what to do,” Sheridan bit out. “Ask Gwyn. Hell, ask any woman I know. I believe women should have their due, and I encourage them to decide what that is.”
“So it’s just me you make assumptions about, me whom you consider incapable of deciding who is the right man to marry.”
“I’m only trying to advise you.”
Releasing his arm, she narrowed her gaze on him. “You’re trying to get me off the subject of why you’re not the marrying sort. And why would you ever find yourself ‘forced into matrimony,’ anyway? Men rarely are—even when they’ve ruined a woman—and dukes almost never. So unless you’re planning to deflower a princess, you could ride roughshod over anyone seeking to force you into marriage. From what I understand, that’s what all dukes do.”
He eyed her askance. “I have no intention of riding ‘roughshod’ over any woman, princess or peasant. Good God, you don’t know me at all.”
“What do you expect? We’ve already established that you don’t know me. It only follows that all that lack of knowing means I have no idea why you would end up forced into marriage. So enlighten me.”
He scowled. “It’s not something I wish to discuss.”
“Then why mention it in the first place?”
“Because you asked—” He muttered an oath under his breath. “Forget it. I spoke out of turn, all right? Suffice it to say, I most likely won’t be able to avoid taking a wife, but if I could, I would prefer not to marry. And that’s all I intend to say on the subject.”
Might Sheridan be a secret debauchee, more like Thornstock than she realized? Might he want only to have mistresses or scandalous encounters with married women? That gossip rag had implied he was discreet, so perhaps he was more discreet about his dalliances than either of his brothers.
No, she had trouble