Why was she trying to talk him out of handing her a tiara? Robert was certain that his malady meant nothing to her, on the order of being left-handed or having a poor memory for numbers. The world did not share her opinion. She knew exactly what the world thought of men who became insensate without warning and dramatically lost control of their limbs.

“I know that you love your art,” he said, “and I’d be dealing with your family anyway because of Nathaniel’s marriage to Althea. Is there another reason why you hesitate, Constance?”

She looked around the orchard, a beautiful place, now that Robert had stopped longing to return to the Hall. The cherry trees were leafing out in a gauzy green canopy to the left, the plums were in full bloom overhead, while the apples waited their turn to the right. Spring in all its glory imbued the hilltop with light and hope, and the promise of succulent fruit in a few months’ time.

“I do not hesitate on my own behalf,” she said. “I am surprised, is all. We have known each other in some ways for but a very short time.”

“And in other ways,” he said, holding out his hand to her, “I know no woman better than I know you. I esteem no woman more highly than I esteem you. Be honest with me, please. I have been precipitous, I know, but my regard for you is genuine and time, unfortunately, is of the essence. If you cannot be happy with me, say so, and we will remain friends.”

He’d keep that promise, somehow. Constance deserved every happiness and he was asking much.

She took his outstretched hand. “I will be happier with you than I could be with anybody else, but please give me three days to contemplate the question. I expect I will accept, but I have learned caution, and I must be certain my choice is not a triumph of selfish impulse over consideration for a man I esteem greatly.”

She didn’t want to take advantage of him. Of all the outlandish…“You are concerned that you are somehow inadequate to marry me?”

She gave a terse, self-conscious nod. “I am no bargain, Your Grace. I lack charm, I lack…much.”

“And have I any charm to speak of?” Robert paced away and marched back to her. “Do I command any respect in the Lords? Am I a host of any renown? I cannot waltz, I have no small talk, I will not drink a full glass of port to save myself, I have never driven a dog cart, much less a high perch phaeton, nor have I sat a horse since childhood. Some duke I am, but I will make it my life’s work to ensure that we suit. I promise you that.”