Chapter 2
Two
You must not be in your right mind.
His mind shouted at him as though it were a separate entity, to which he scoffed.
I haven’t been for quite some time now.
Purchasing Carver Castle. Taking in a little girl who was not his flesh and blood. Proposing marriage. Absolutely normal.
Right.
Victor had not had time to think about women. At least he wasn’t able to since Margaret Hills had become his ward. There was a time when he’d spent his time coaxing blushes and smiles from young women at balls and various events, but those days seemed to be well behind him.
“A proposal?” Lady Gwen echoed, looking confused.
Another woman would have accepted his offer immediately, even though there was no clarity yet. This woman in front of him? She would never. Unless it involved the things that she held dear, like Carver Castle.
It was probably why it was so easy for the words to slip from his mouth. Still, it amused him to see how flushed she had become.
“Come walk with me,” he requested.
He didn’t wait for her, walking ahead at a controlled, steady pace.
He was used to making decisions for himself and the others around him. However, he was not used to Gwen Bellmond obeying him with no words of protest escaping her lips. There were none at all.
Perhaps the wheels in her head were still spinning, getting rattled and wheezy in the end.
“I-I am still confused. I am so used to hearing a proposal in a specific, marital context, and I doubt this is what you meant, though I can’t see past it into what you meant,” she rambled, half distracted, as she walked slightly behind him.
“Yes, you have the right to be confused. But your understanding is correct.”
“I still fail to see why you are offering me marriage!” Her voice had regained its usual vivacity, the fog clearing from her eyes.
“Margaret, my step-sister, is the reason for everything. She has recently become my ward after the sudden death of my mother and her father. She’s only eight, looks younger, and needs all the stability I can give her.
Something impossible when my current home is over a week away from London, especially when I already have business that takes days to complete.
I bought Carver Castle to be closer to London.
This way, I won’t abandon or shirk my responsibilities, and I will be able to take care of Margaret. ”
“I still don’t understand how she’s the reason you’d marry me, of all people. Is it because I’m convenient?” she asked, her voice turning into a squeak—something he knew it tended to do.
“Because you are here. You are from Carver Castle, familiar with its nooks and crannies. Margaret needs someone trustworthy, who is part of my circle of friends,” Victor explained solemnly, “able to understand that this is merely an arrangement.”
He recalled his shock upon finding out that the child was as serious as he was, if not more. At least, he had his cousin Maximilian to tease and wind down with. Margaret did not have that.
Gwen raised an eyebrow at his words. She didn’t look convinced.
He was not certain he knew the logic behind his decision either. The words came out, and damn if he’d admit to this woman that he was going through the motions.
“We are very different from each other, Your Grace,” she reminded him, even though there was no way he’d forget.
Now that Gwen Bellmond expressed her concerns, Victor could see why choosing her over other women would work in his favor.
“And that’s why it will work with you as my wife. I want someone who can be a good influence on Margaret. Someone who will be there for her when it is time for her to experience a full London Season.”
“That seems forward-thinking, given that she is only eight!” Gwen protested.
“I also do not want Margaret to feel uprooted. I want her to be in a place where she will be able to socialize and have a normal childhood,” he added, suddenly feeling desperate for the woman he thought he could not stand to agree with his plan.
“She can still live here without me. You don’t have to marry me,” she insisted.
Her blue eyes darted around wistfully. She was trying to memorize everything about Carver Castle, even the cracks and the cobwebs.
“You are the only one who can tame this place,” he said, startling even himself.
When he said the word tame, he idly thought of her wild, red curls, and what it would feel like to run his fingers through them.
He quickly shook the foolish thought away.
“I heard from Maximilian that you have been putting so much work into this place. You must then remain the lady of the castle. The servants adore you. I don’t think they would sit quietly when someone else takes over the place.”
“Someone else? That would be you, Your Grace!”
It wasn’t the first time Gwen had to remind him of a fact that he hadn’t forgotten about. This time, though, she wrinkled her nose in amusement, and he could not help but notice the smattering of freckles over her otherwise smooth skin.
“If you don’t want to cast out the servants, then don’t.
It would be your conscience you have to battle with, anyway.
I can see myself doing you a world of favors by staying here and marrying you.
I will take care of the castle and be there for your little girl.
Mm. That sounds more like a governess and housekeeper rolled into one. ”
“You love this place.”
It was a statement, not a question.
“And?” She arched an eyebrow. “I still don’t see how this arrangement would benefit me.”
Again, her words reminded him that other women would consider the marriage itself to be the benefit. Ladies often thought him a catch—a good one. Except for Gwen Bellmond.
“Think about it, Lady Gwen. The whole thing will be a mere farce. A legal document that will keep you here in the castle where you grew up. You’ll see it restored to its former glory, or more.”
“A marriage of convenience?” she asked, sounding more interested now.
Of course, she was interested in the convenience part of it. However, she was wary of what marriage would be like to a man who had the reputation of a rake.
Understood.
“Yes, nothing more,” he said confidently, though something in the back of his mind seemed to tell him that he would regret making any deals with her.
“Don’t think I am thrilled with this arrangement, Your Grace. However, I do love Carver Castle, and I am concerned about Miss Margaret’s welfare…” she trailed off, a smile tugging at her lips.
What was going on in her pretty little head?
“You are to be her female guardian, Lady Gwen. I am asking you not because I’m concerned for Margaret’s welfare,” Victor said, feeling frustrated. “But if you are not thrilled with this arrangement, I will bother you no longer. I won’t force myself into such situations.”
He saw her turn pale. He knew she had more to lose than he would, but he also wanted a bid for his freedom. Balance was the key here. He wanted an alliance with someone at home and at Carver Castle, and he wanted to avoid marrying someone who might get too invested in the relationship side of it.
Not to brag, but most women would try to seduce him. Gwen would never. She was more interested in the castle.
“I-I can make the arrangement work, Your Grace,” she stammered, her eyes wide. “Carver Castle is my home.”
“Then you must decide if you want this,” Victor urged. “I can get some help from Maximilian, ask him to find me another willing bride.”
“Look no further, Your Grace,” Gwen said quickly. “But there will be terms.”
They heard footsteps approaching. For a moment, Victor saw Gwen flinch. She was not comfortable with their conversation, and even more so with someone else hearing it.
“Your Grace, Lady Gwen,” the housekeeper called before she could begin narrating a whole novel of terms. “I believe that since the two of you have agreed upon this proposal, I can now leave you without a chaperone.”
“Ah, Mrs. Davis! Pardon me for not acknowledging your presence. Your mistress has a way of engaging all senses,” Victor offered.
“Best that the two of you sit in the kitchen. Someone might even give you bowls of soup to keep you company,” the housekeeper suggested, her eyes twinkling.
“In this long and arduous journey,” Victor muttered.
Gwen sighed heavily but obeyed.
Interesting.
The two of them were ushered to a small table, used by the servants whenever they drank coffee or chatted while waiting for meals to be cooked. It was intriguing to find a noble-born lady who didn’t see anything wrong with being there.
“Before I was interrupted, I was about to tell you my terms. I want to be able to entertain my friends here whenever I please.”
“Sounds reasonable,” he relented, thinking about how loyal she was to her group of friends.
Gwen, Ivy—that was Maximilian’s wife—Lady Agatha, and Lady Adalyn, all went to the same finishing school.
According to their stories, they did not turn up as expected. They were the rebels of their school, and the ones the other young ladies thought of as unpolished.
“I also plan to publish my book. I know I am a woman. When you become my husband, you’ll support me in this venture so that nobody will question it.
I hate that I must ask you for this,” she mumbled in a sorrowful tone.
He simply nodded his agreement. “I won’t be shut up and isolated in the castle. ”
“Lady Gwen, nobody expects you to be shut up and isolated in any castle,” Victor assured, trying his best not to smile but failing.
“Do you find this amusing? I believe you won’t find it amusing once I tell you the most important term,” she warned, sitting up straight in her chair.
She looked haughty and innocent at the same time.
“I’d like to hear it,” he said warily.
“No mistresses. Even though our marriage won’t be real, I don’t want you bringing mistresses into Carver Castle,” she declared with a finality that she seemed to relish.
Gwen Bellmond tilted her chin up and fixed him with a steely look. She felt strongly about it, and not because she wanted him for herself. Victor knew what that would have looked like.
He blinked. “Do you really think I would bring mistresses into our home?”
He was truly offended. He hadn’t even thought of women after Margaret became his ward. He was perfectly capable of behaving himself, thank you very much.
“You’re a duke. Not only that, you are a duke with the reputation of a rake,” Gwen stated matter-of-factly. “It is to be expected that you’d be tempted to bring a mistress or two… er, or three.”
“It won’t happen,” he said, straightening.
“Is that a bet?” Gwen asked, beaming at him. “I can think of conditions for a bet as well.”
He should have known that this was a terrible idea, but there was something about that smile that made him keep pushing.
Pushing her.
Pushing himself.
“Not a bet, but a fact. I also have my conditions.”
She swallowed. She didn’t even try to hide it.
“All right, then. What are your terms?”
“One, we will not be sharing the same bedchamber,” he began.
She scoffed. “Of course, we won’t, Your Grace.”
“Two, Castle Carver requires extensive renovations. Both of us can recommend the changes, but I have the final say,” he added coldly.
This time, she looked like she was going to faint. But she was a proud woman. She took a long, deep breath and nodded slowly.
“Three, I want to reiterate that there will be no romance involved. This is merely a transaction,” he finished.
“Mm. Well then, since we agree to each other’s requests—rules—then I will be the Lady of Carver Castle,” she said.
“My Lady of Carver Castle. The Duchess of Crosswell,” he emphasized, lest she forget.
After all, she’d already laid claim to the place even before he entered the picture.
And did he enter the picture. He did not know that the property he was buying was Lady Gwen Bellmond’s home. Now, he’d have to survive having her there, as the castle’s mistress.