“How we’ll break it off,” she continued. “I think you should be the one to do it, since Society will forgive a duke’s heir a lot quicker than they would a lady in my position.”

“And what position would that be?” he couldn’t resist asking, waggling his eyebrows.

She ignored him. “Not that I care about being forgiven, but it will help my sisters if I am somewhat respectable.” She paused as she thought. “You can say that your duties have made it impossible to focus on marriage at this point, and that you wish me every happiness, etcetera, etcetera.”

“I would never put duties over love.” He held his hands up in response to her look of aggravation. “Fine, we’ll do as you say.”

“And when will we work on finding where Mr. Wattings might be?”

Of course. He’d nearly forgotten, he’d been so intent on teasing her. Not to mention his intense attraction to her.

There was a reason, a very real reason, that she had agreed to this bargain. She was so desperate to find her friend’s husband that she was willing to subject herself to Society’s ridicule and disdain.

That took strength of character, and he couldn’t help but admire her.

“We’ll start tomorrow. On everything.”

“In here.” Della gestured toward the door leading into Dunworthy and Sons, Gentlemen’s Furnishings. Lord Stanbury flung the door open, stepping in like a king entering his court.

To be fair, he seemed to behave like that most of the time, treating his surroundings as though everything was just there for his pleasure. A feeling that should not make her react, but of course it did.

He was just so—so. So big, so handsome, so irritating. Della had spent much of the night before lying awake thinking about their interactions. She was so keenly aware of his every word, every gesture. Although perhaps that would lessen the effect of returning to Society—she’d be too distracted by him to worry about people shunning her or whispering cruel words about her. So there was an upside?

He held the door for her and Becky, smiling gently at the girl as he shut the door behind them. Apparently he could be polite. To everyone but her.

“May I help you, my lord?” A clerk walked up, an apprehensive expression on his face. Because he didn’t have clothing big enough for Captain Enormous, perhaps?

The clerk was of medium stature, with thinning hair and an impressive moustache. He wore a well-made suit that appeared to fit him perfectly. A good indication that this was, in fact, the correct place to shop. Despite what his own misgivings might indicate.

“Yes, thank you,” Della said before Lord Stanbury could speak. “The gentleman needs a full wardrobe. Your shop came recommended by my brother-in-law Lord Raybourn.”