“We are at an impasse unless you wish to increase your offer substantially. I didn’t feel I had the authority to do so without speaking to you and explaining the unfortunate situation.”

The twenty-third Duke of Groveland pursed his lips. “Substantially you say.”

“I’m afraid so, Your Grace. The woman is obstinate to a fare-thee-well and in my estimation outrageously so for someone in her circumstances.”

Groveland’s grey gaze turned razor sharp. “What circumstances?”

“Her husband left her all but destitute when he died. From all appearances she is eking out a living. She resides above the bookstore, which is a saving, of course, but really, she should be exceedingly grateful for your generous offer rather than refusing it out of hand.” Leaning back in his chair, Hutchinson softly sighed. “Women, Your Grace. Quite irrational creatures.”

Now the duke knew women better than most. In fact he had outstripped all previous records apropos the number of females who had fallen prey to his charms. And gentlemen’s clubs were partial to keeping such scores. Seduction was a major amusement for Groveland-some said… his avocation. It was only natural he would say, “Why don’t you leave her to me, Hutchinson. I have had some luck with convincing women to, ah… accommodate me.”

Forgetting his consequence for a moment, Hutchinson exhaled loudly and blurted out, “I was hoping you might take a hand. The lady is beyond my capabilities, and I’ll admit, I haven’t felt such frustration in a decade or more. I never lose, sir-you know that. It’s intensely disconcerting to acknowledge defeat.”

“Nonsense, Hutchinson. You have no reason to feel defeated. Haven’t you masterfully acquired every piece of property I’ve ever wanted? Of course you have. This woman may be irrational or addled in some way-particularly,” he added with a faint smile, “if she’s a socialist. Her personal biases are certainly not your fault. Let me talk to her, and then we’ll see where we stand.”