“There,” her best friend said brightly. “That’s done the trick. Do you have a dreadful headache?”

It all came back to her. The flowers. The goats. The crowd. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Lydia, please tell me I did not just faint in front of everyone.”

“You did.”

She wanted to close her eyes again. Robert had been there. What he would think of her?

“Did the goats eat all of my gown?”

“None of the good bits,” another voice said, this one directly above her.

And that was when Minnie realized her head wasn’t resting on a pillow. Those uncomfortable lumps were thighs; her head was cradled on the Duke of Clermont’s lap. She jerked upright, ignoring the pounding behind her eyelids, and pushed away from him. She had been laid out on a hard wooden bench. There was a desk at the front and a few chairs off to the side. She was in one of the upstairs merchants’ meeting rooms in New Hall, she supposed.

Along with the Duke of Clermont.

“Lydia,” she moaned, “how could you?”

But Lydia didn’t answer right away. She glanced at the duke and then colored and looked away.

“Someone had to carry you,” he said finally, “and, as it turns out, I was first to volunteer.”

She felt sick just imagining it. They’d all have looked at her when she fainted. To have the Duke of Clermont wade in, though—that would make everyone pay attention. No doubt the gossip was running the rounds.

“Now,” Lydia said, enunciating very carefully, “I am going to go fetch a glass of water—”

“Don’t you dare leave me alone with—”

But Lydia was already withdrawing.

“Lydia!”

The door closed behind her.

Minnie shot to her feet with no thought but to put space between them. If he didn’t touch her…

He stood along with her; when she wobbled, he caught her arm. “Sit down, Minnie.”

“People must know we are in here together,” she said frantically. “They’ll see her. They’ll think us alone. Everyone will think—”

“Everyone,” he said distinctly, “is already thinking. Your friend left me alone with you because she knew what I was going to say. Please sit down and listen to me.”

She looked into his eyes. He seemed quite forbidding, and her head was still spinning. She sat again.

“When those goats surrounded you,” he said, “I punched the man who was driving them. In front of everyone. And then, when you collapsed, I picked you off the floor and carried you out of the room. Whatever gossip you imagine you might forestall by walking out now—believe me, someone is already saying it.”

Oh, God. It had happened. It had really happened. Her head felt light. She was ruined; Stevens would come back with his proof, and it wouldn’t matter. Minnie took a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think. I told you I can be stupid. When I saw you out there, thinking was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted to be by your side.”

Minnie shook her head, which made her feel all the more dizzy. “As much my fault as yours.” If this was disaster, it was a disaster she’d courted. She’d known there was an attraction between them. He’d as good as told her nothing could come of it. And she’d kissed him anyway—kissed him and wanted him to look at her. That’s what came of putting herself forward. “I’ll take care of this somehow.”

There had to be some explanation she could give, some way that this could all come right. Maybe if someone else fainted, and he grabbed her, too? Then it might be seen as mere chivalry on his part.

But that didn’t feel right to her. Too forced. Unnatural. Minnie scrubbed her forehead in distress.

He sat down next to her and took her hand. “Minnie,” he said gently. “Do you recall the time you came to my house and threatened me?”

“How could I forget?” She frowned. “I suppose I could use that. Expose you now and explain that you were just trying to keep me quiet. It still doesn’t feel right. I don’t think it will work.”

“At the time, I said that if anything happened, I’d make sure you had a proposal of marriage. I believe my precise words were that I’d make sure of it, even if I had to make one myself.”

All her plans came to a halt. Minnie looked up into his eyes. It would have been a vicious thing to joke about, and he’d never been cruel before. Still, it was easier to imagine him callous than the universe kind.

“You didn’t mean it,” she said. “It was said in jest.”

He shrugged. “It was said in stupidity, not jest. I say a lot of stupid things when you’re about.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair and then sighed. “But stupid as it might have been, it was also true. I meant it, Minnie. I wish you would marry me.” He glanced over at her. “Even without this, I would have asked. I’ve been thinking of nothing else for days. Marry me.”

She couldn’t comprehend that. Instead, she stood and walked over to the narrow window. From here, she had a view of the square in front of them. The last remnants of the crowd had dispersed, taking their goats with them. No, what he was saying didn’t seem possible. “That makes no sense, Your Grace,” she said. “That is madness talking. You cannot marry someone like me.”

He didn’t pretend to know what she meant. “That’s what everyone says.” He regarded her. “And I admit, I hadn’t considered the possibility until I met you. But once I started thinking about it, you began to make all kinds of sense. Do you know why I haven’t married yet?”

“You’re not even thirty. You’ve years ahead of you…”

She trailed off, suddenly uneasy. His eyes had fixed on her in a way that started her heart beating in a way that had nothing to do with his age. Her hands grew clammy.

“Minnie,” he said, “do you have any idea what I hope to accomplish? You must have gathered that my father took ownership of a factory here and ran it into the ground—that I hope to make up for that. I have a half brother who matters more to me than anyone in the entire world, who is looked down on for his birth. I don’t stand on my prerogatives.”

Minnie could scarcely breathe.

“But that is only part of what I hope to see in my life. If I had my way, I would abolish the hereditary peerage in its entirety.”

She gasped.