Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
As promised, the Duke arrived the following day.
“Girls!” Lord Strathvale rushed into the back garden, waving his arms in a flurry to get their attention. With him was a valet, who had to hurry to keep up. “Girls, enough of that! Quickly, now!”
Rose and Marianne were sitting under a large oak tree, enjoying the warm weather as they read. Marianne was in good spirits, positively thrilled because Rose had assured her that she’d taken care of the Duke. She had not told Marianne how she had done so, only that she had.
As to Rose’s mood? Obviously, she was nervous about what she had done, but that would get her nowhere. She had made this decision and done so for the right reasons. As such, she had nothing to fear and knew that whatever would come, she could more than handle it.
This is about Marianne and her future, not my own. That she is now free to marry who she wishes is all I care about. Her happily ever after is what matters.
“What is it, Father?” Marianne asked.
“The Duke is here!” he hurried to explain.
“Quickly, girls. Inside, please!” He came to a sudden stop and grimaced.
“Marianne, is there time to change your outfit? Something more…” He clicked his tongue as he looked Marianne over.
She was not dressed poorly, but her half-dress was certainly not elegant.
“It will be fine, Father,” Rose assured him as she and Marianne stood up. “You have a contract, remember? His Grace will not break it.”
“Let us hope not,” Marianne said with a knowing smile.
Their father breathed a sigh of relief as he took Marianne’s hand. “I am so glad to see you smiling, Marianne. I know that this is not something you wanted, but you understand how important such a pairing as this is, yes?”
“I do.”
“And that you have accepted it,” His smile was warm, and he squeezed her hand. “I am so proud of you.”
Behind them, Rose felt her stomach turn.
Never mind how nervous she suddenly was. There was also the little matter of what her father would say when he learned that the deal had been altered. That was assuming that the Duke kept his promise in the first place.
And was it so bad that a small part of Rose almost hoped that he did not keep it.
No, Rose. Do not dare to even think that.
It was all very confusing, and Rose did her best to appear composed and not at all put out as she followed her father and sister inside.
They found the Duke waiting for them in the reading room. He stood by the window, the light from outside pouring over his shoulders, softening some of the hard planes of his demeanor.
Despite that, his expression was stern as they entered the room.For a brief moment, when Rose first met his eyes, a smile touched his lips. He did, however, smother it, the seriousness of the moment once again taking him.
“Your Grace!” their father hurried across the room. “It is so nice of you to call on us like this. If we had known you might visit, we would have prepared a better welcome. Please, forgive us.”
“The fault is on me.” The Duke’s most serious gaze lingered on Rose for a moment longer.
She tried to meet it, but it was so intense that she had to look away.
“I thought to send ahead, but there are matters that need discussion, and I always find it is best to get these things over with quickly. Don’t you? ”
“Oh,” Rose’s father came to a stop, his cheery demeanor faltering. “And, ah, what exactly is it that needs to be discussed? I assumed we had settled the matter.”
“We have, to a certain degree,” the Duke said simply. “But there is one specification that I wish to be certain of, before we continue.”
Rose’s father chuckled nervously. “You are not trying to get out of anything, are you, Your Grace?”
“Is that the type of man that you think I am?” He looked right at her father. “The type who would try and rescind on an agreement?”
“What?” Her father’s eyes widened. “No! I did not mean – please, forgive me.” He laughed nervously again and searched the room. “Marianne, what are you doing over there? Have you greeted His Grace yet?”
“No, sorry, Father,” she said politely. “Your Grace, it is lovely to see you again.”
“As it is, you, Miss. Marianne.” Again, the Duke’s eyes flicked to Rose, who was still standing in the doorway. He frowned slightly, as if he could sense her thoughts.
“You wished to discuss something?” Rose’s father asked.
“It is nothing to be concerned with.” The Duke tore his eyes from Rose and looked at her father. “I just wish to confirm that, as per the contract, I am within my rights to choose from either of your two daughters. Is that how you remember it?”
“Either of my two…” Rose’s father blinked stupidly and looked between Rose and Marianne. “Yes, that is how I remember it. Might I ask, why the clarification?”
Marriane was standing just out of her father’s field of sight, and her eyes lit up when she found Rose by the doorway. Rose tried to match her excitement, needing her sister to believe that she wanted this.
I do. I want this. This is for Marianne. She is who matters.
“Good.” The Duke’s flat tone gave nothing away. “In that case, I have changed my mind.”
Her father balked. “What? What do you mean –"
“I have decided instead to marry Miss Rosalind Drayton, your eldest daughter. It has occurred to me recently that she will suit my needs more than Miss Marianne –"
“Now, Your Grace, why don’t we just –"
“ – ever could,” the Duke continued as if her father had not spoken. “I am to presume that the dowry will remain as is, as will most of the previously arranged particulars.” A beat as he let the words settle on her father. “That is, unless you have any objections?”
For Rose, it was fascinating to watch the Duke manipulate and bully her father. And with such little effort. His requests were commands, his suggestions to be taken as orders, and Rose doubted that rarely had the man been told ‘no’ before.
He probably doesn’t even know what that word means.
Her father leaned back in surprise, eyes wide like dinner plates, his mind slowly coming to terms with what the Duke was saying. He looked between Marianne and Rose, his brow furrowed. “You wish to marry Rosalind?”
“I will marry Miss Rosalind, Lord Strathvale. That is what I am telling you.”
“But why?”
“My reasons are my own, just as they do not concern you.” He glanced at Rose, and she could have sworn she saw a hint of a smile in his eyes, as if the Duke was enjoying himself. But she very much doubted that.
Her father swung to face her. “Did you know about this?”
“Me?” Rose said innocently. “How could I possibly have known?”
“Do we have a problem?” A growl emitted from the Duke’s throat. Her father started and spun back, biting into his lip, eyes narrowed as he worked through the situation… “Well?”
Rose scoffed as she watched her father calculate the situation. He was never much of a businessman, and ironically, he could have used her advice in this.
If he had asked her, she would have told him to say yes. Putting aside her personal stake in this, the chance to marry her to a duke was one he should take.
Despite not believing this about herself, Rose was undoubtedly the troubled daughter, and her father had long since given up trying to find her a suitor. Even if he somehow managed to, he knew that Rose would never accept it, and that he did not have the power to bully her into saying yes.
All that was to say that this was too good an opportunity to miss.
It took longer than it should have, but Rose’s father slowly came to the same realization. And, when he did, that look of hunger passed behind his eyes as it so often did.
“Well, if you wish for it,” He tried to appear humbled, as if he did not want this but had no choice. “I do not see how I can possibly deny you.”
“You cannot,” the Duke said coolly.
Marianne could not have looked more thrilled, and she was quick to hurry to Rose’s side and take her hand and squeeze it lovingly. Rose’s father was nodding to himself, no doubt confirming that this was good for him. While the Duke appeared disinterested, almost bored, he did not once look at Rose.
Rose was caught in two worlds. One was gratitude, because the smile on her sister’s face made this worth it. The other was one that she could not explain.
Fear of the unknown. Confusion, unlike anything she had ever felt. Sadness, even self-pity, which she hated feeling most of all. And there was something else. Something she could not explain. Something that felt suspiciously like excitement.
No, that is impossible. Why would I feel excited for what is effectively the end of my life as I know it?
When it was all done with and decided upon, the Duke asked Rose if she might walk him to the front door.
“Of course, of course,” Rose’s father said for her as he hurried to be by her side; he put his hand on her back and widened his eyes at her in warning. “She would love to. Is that not right, Rosalind?”
Rose wanted nothing to do with the Duke. To never see him again would be best. Of course, that was never going to happen. From this point onwards, her life belonged to him, and it was best that she got used to it.
She did ask for this, after all.
“I would be honored,” Rose managed, even producing a smile.
The Duke did not smile back. He walked toward her, her breath caught in her throat, and then he walked right on past. When he reached the doorway, he turned back, raising a single eyebrow as if in command.
Rose’s first instinct was to glare, but she fought against such things. Still holding her forced smile, she glided across the room to meet him.
He did not wait, walking from the room and forcing her to follow. She followed him through the manor in silence, and it wasn’t until they reached the front door that he finally spoke.
“I trust that you are satisfied,” the Duke said as he came to a sudden stop.
“Excuse me?”
“The marriage. This is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” Rose began sharply before she could stop herself. “What I wanted was for none of this to have happened in the first place.”
She expected anger from the Duke, but what she got instead was a flash of guilt behind his eyes, as if he felt pity for her, but he was quick to smother it, and his expression turned frustrated.
“I will remind you that it was your father who brought the contract forward in the first place.”
“Oh,” Rose winced. “Yes, I know that.”
“Just as I will remind you that you were not my first choice of bride.” He looked down at her, and Rose winced again at how harsh his words were. “So, please, if you would refrain from pretending that you are the only person who has been caught in frustrating circumstances, I would appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose sighed, feeling suddenly guilty, which was absurd! “I did not think of it like that.”
“It is fine.” As quickly as the annoyance came, it was gone, and the Duke straightened and went back to his usual dispassionate self. “I think it is important that we discuss what is expected of this union.”
“Expected?” Rose’s heart leapt through her throat. “Wh—what do you mean, expected?”
“That this is a marriage of convenience only,” he said. “You have a purpose, as you made clear, and I expect you to keep it. All that is to say,” He made sure to look right at her. “Do not try to turn this marriage into something it is not.”
“What does that mean?” Rose challenged.
“I believe you are smart enough to work that out for yourself.” His green eyes worked her over, assessing her as if to decide whether she understood or whether he needed to be more straightforward.
And then, without another word spoken, the Duke turned to leave, [insert butler’s name] held the door as the Duke strode outside. He did not once look back.
Rose watched him go as she struggled to come to terms with what the Duke had just said, and how she felt about it.
His words should have brought relief. Isn’t that exactly what she wanted to hear? A marriage of convenience, no romance or companionship, no chance that the Duke wanted it to turn into something more.
My life will still be my own; that is what matters. And the Duke and I, it will hardly be as if we are even married. This is good. This is a good thing.
The words sounded true but rang as hollow; swallowed whole by the dark, bottomless pit opening in her stomach.
Down the driveway, the Duke climbed atop his horse, his thighs squeezing his mount, his back straight, his chest proud, and his dark hair, wavy and billowing in the wind as the sun warmed his handsome face.
Rose watched him closely, no longer as breathless and trembling as she had been the first time she’d seen him.
He might have been handsome. He might have been dreamy. But he was cold, dispassionate, and from what Rose had seen, there was very little to like about the man she would soon call husband. Very little indeed.
She had done it for the right reasons, because Marianne’s future was what mattered most. While Rose knew this, while she told herself this again and again, the pit in her stomach continued to grow at an alarming rate.
What have I done?