Read Online The Duke I’m Going to Marry (Farthingale Series Book 2) by Meara Platt - Free Book Online

that he knew perfectly well what those buns represented.
    He cast Dillie a soft smile.
    She groaned. “Must we spend the entire afternoon discussing what I do or do not like to eat? It seems some people have nothing better to do than spy on others and report their findings to everyone who will listen.”
    She’d spoken to him in a whisper, but since Phoebe had the ears of a vampire bat, she heard the remark as well. “You’re a debutante now,” she chided. “Everyone will scrutinize you.”
    Dillie looked as though she were about to burst into tears again.
    When Daisy returned with the glass of apple cider and a damp cloth, Ian couldn’t seem to let Dillie go. Instead of stepping aside and allowing Daisy to help her sister, he took the cloth from her hands and began to dab it across Dillie’s lips.
    Dillie groaned again as she felt his hand against her cheek. The others would mistake it for embarrassment, but he knew Dillie was responding to his touch. He wasn’t surprised. He was also responding to her nearness, her softness.
    This was bad.
    He eased away and handed the cloth back to Daisy, silently watching as she turned fuss and feathers over her sister.
    Phoebe shook her head and sighed.
    Ian straightened to his full height, worried that the meddlesome harridan was about to insult Dillie now that she appeared to be calming down. Even though he considered Phoebe a friend, he’d haul her out of the house and toss her to the sidewalk if she dared utter a cross word.
    But Phoebe merely let out another sigh. “You poor, poor dear. I now understand why you’re the last of the Farthingales to marry. I’m worried about you, gel. All those years of training haven’t done you much good.”
    Eloise came to her defense. “Now see here, Phoebe. Dillie is delightful. She’ll have a dozen eligible bachelors swooning at her feet within the fortnight. Mark my words. You haven’t caught her at her best just now.”
    Phoebe turned to Ian. “What about you, Edgeware?”
    He arched an eyebrow. “What about me?”
    “You seem interested in the girl. You came to her rescue—”
    “As we all did.”
    Her sharp nose wiggled. “But—”
    “Lady Withnall, please,” Dillie interceded. “Haven’t I humiliated myself sufficiently? I’ll readily admit that I’m a duckling among swans. I’ve never been anywhere without one or more of my sisters close at hand. I don’t do well on my own, as you can see. I’m miserable enough about it. Please don’t let the world know.”
    Ian had rarely seen any softness in Phoebe Withnall. The woman seemed to thrive on the fear and pain of others, so he was quite surprised when the old harridan actually smiled at Dillie. Not one of her gloating, triumphant smiles, but a tender, indulgent one. “My dear, your secret is quite safe with me.”
    Dillie let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
    The old harridan turned to Eloise. “I think we must be off. Lady Dowling is expecting us. She’s eager for my news about her husband. That wine-soaked old sot. She’s better off without him.” She tipped her head at Ian. Said nothing. Just smiled. That worried him. “Daisy. Gabriel. Come see us off.”
    Which meant she’d purposely left Ian alone with Dillie.
    Bad.
    She knew Dillie liked him. Did she realize just how much he liked Dillie?
    ***
    “Crumpets.” Dillie gazed at Ian, her heart beating wildly and eyes still wide in panic. He, the bounder, looked magnificently composed and controlled. “No good will come of this. I made an utter fool of myself.”
    “You were fine. Even Lady Withnall likes you, and she doesn’t like anybody.”
    She rolled her eyes. “How can you say that?”
    “What would you like me to say? That you allowed an infant to get the better of you, then allowed a woman no bigger than that infant to scare you into a sneezing frenzy?”
    She had hoped he would tell her that he admired the way she’d handled herself, that he’d ached watching her hold Ivy and was