Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Answer me. Now,” the newcomer growled.
Verity struggled to breathe properly as she gazed at him.
He was young, younger than the other suitors, probably near her age. Yet his hair was completely silver.
Her stomach fluttered at the growl in his voice as he moved further into the room, coming close enough to her that she could smell his cedarwood perfume.
Despite his young face, his silver hair made him all the more alluring. In a room full of men who had not taken their eyes off her, she disliked finding a man so attractive. But the stranger barely looked back at her with those hard blue eyes.
He was striking, authority radiating off him in waves, and she found herself unable to look away. His dark tailcoat offset the silver of his hair and beard, but it only made him look more dangerous and darker.
Who is this man?
“John, did you plan this interruption?” one of the lords on the settees scoffed. “Is it some ploy to get us to bid higher? You do know who this is, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Uncle John replied, his eyebrows knitted together as if he couldn’t quite recall.
“The Duke of Whitestone.”
Those whispered words made Verity gasp.
What was a duke doing in the parlor of her house?
The Duke surveyed the lords gathered there, his eyes narrowing. “Leave,” he ordered.
“Ha!” Uncle John snorted. “You are ordering my guests to leave? Duke or not, you have no authority in my household, Your Grace.”
“Then I am certain the King of England himself will find this ludicrous scene very interesting to investigate,” the Duke countered, cocking his head.
Verity’s lips parted slightly.
The King?
The man said it with such casual grace that she had no doubt it was not an empty threat.
Two of the lords were already rising, visibly trembling.
“His Grace does have a close relationship with His Majesty,” one of them whispered to the other. “We—we cannot be seen here any longer. John… John, do yourself a favor and do not arrange such a thing again. And do not contact us for a while.”
“No, I—”
“I agree,” more voices echoed as the rest of the men scrambled up and fled the parlor as though they couldn’t leave fast enough.
The thud of their boots filled the hallway, their footsteps fading as they left Ravenwood House.
Verity let out a long breath, as though she had just woken up from the most horrid nightmare.
“I do not understand! I do not know why this man has interrupted our meeting!” Uncle John called out, rushing to the doorway. “Do not leave. Not now. Not when my niece is—”
“Not for sale like a damned horse,” the Duke interrupted, his voice deadly quiet.
Verity was so busy watching the servants slink out of the room, as if not wanting to be caught there either, that she missed how fast the Duke moved. One moment, he was lording over her uncle; the next, he had his hand fisted in her uncle’s shirt, his arm pulled back to strike.
The Duke punched him, sending him flying backward. Uncle John cried out.
Verity braced herself for his rage, for the accusations that she had somehow tampered with his plans or perhaps arranged for the Duke’s interruption. She had not; she didn’t know this man from the others who had left.
“How dare you!” Uncle John snarled, glaring up at him.
The Duke merely stood over him. His fists were clenched, as if he were not finished. But then he only leaned down, grasping Uncle John’s collar again to yank him closer.
“How dare you?” he growled. “You have brought shame upon your house, upon this duchy, and upon yourself, Lord John.” He let his eyes rest on Verity for a heartbeat, softening only for her, before fixing her uncle with a look that could cut stone.
“Your duty is to protect Lady Verity, not parade her about in a wedding gown and sell her to the highest bidder. It is revolting. And if your nephew were here to witness it…” His jaw clenched.
“He would not allow you to draw another breath without answering for it.”
“Do not presume you know anything about my nephew or my business,” Uncle John spat, his face red with fury. Still, his trembling limbs betrayed his fear. “What right do you have to barge into my house, assault me, and lecture me on my personal matters?”
“Personal matters,” the Duke echoed, laughing sarcastically.
“No. No, you turned this into a business transaction. As a matter of fact, I do know a great deal about Vincent, the rightful heir to the duchy and the true owner of the house you claim as your own. I know a great deal indeed, enough to know that Vincent would be disgusted by you.”
Verity’s entire mind lit up like fireworks at the mention of her brother.
She swept forward. “Vincent?” she whispered.
The Duke looked at her. “Yes.”
“Is my brother alive?” she asked, her voice thin with hope she couldn’t bring herself to tamp down.
Something crossed the Duke’s face as he clenched his jaw. “To my knowledge, yes.”
“When—when was the last time you saw him?”
He released her uncle, leaving him to slump into a heap before turning to face her fully. “That is none of your business.”
“Oh, it is when it involves my brother, whom I have not seen or heard from in two years,” she answered sharply.
She ought to show more respect for this man, who not only bore his title but also had saved her from being auctioned off. But why would he not just tell her?
“Lady Verity—”
“Where is he?” she demanded. “Where did you last see him? How do you know one another, for I have never seen you before. Not at balls, not at social calls. How can I be sure that you know him?”
The Duke stiffened, clenching his jaw, but Verity would not let it go. Not when he might be the only person having a shred of knowledge about her brother.
“I know him,” he affirmed. “I do not know where he is, Lady Verity, but—”
“But have you heard from him recently? Surely there could be a way to find him. Has he corresponded with you? He must have left a clue as to his whereabouts in a letter, surely!” Desperation thickened her voice.
The Duke stepped forward, holding her gaze. His blue eyes were not so hard with anger anymore, and she could not look away from them.
“Your brother will be found,” he swore. “I may not know where he is right now, but I will find him.”
The promise rang true in his voice.
The way he was looking at her, as though he was seeing her rather than the commodity her uncle had claimed her to be, made her shiver.
It was not the shiver of revulsion she had experienced when the parlor was full of men. This one felt good.
She had not experienced attention like this for a painfully long time, not since leaving the marriage mart.
She broke eye contact, nodding. “You must promise me that whatever means you have, you will not stop searching for him. And—and if you reach him, please tell him that his sister is waiting to welcome him home.”
The Duke nodded at her, then turned back to her uncle on the floor. “Get up.”
Her uncle scrambled to his feet immediately, still looking wildly confused. “I demand that you leave my niece and me alone, Your Grace.”
The Duke ignored him. “You have a little brother named Archie, yes?”
Verity nodded.
“Where is he now?” he asked.
“Your Grace, I demand that you leave—”
“Lady Verity?”
“Do not answer him, Verity,” Uncle John hissed, taking a step closer to her.
The Duke casually moved in front of him, blocking his view of her.
“Do not dare disobey me!” her uncle shouted, but the Duke swiftly turned around and punched him again.
Verity’s head spun, and her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Intimidation had her mind sharpening, not wanting to trust the alluring stranger. But she was impressed by him. Nobody had ever dared stand up to her uncle, nor addressed her so kindly in a long time.
“Lady Verity, where is your brother?”
“He is out,” she answered, ignoring her uncle’s shouts. “My uncle ordered his governess to take him out, so he was not present for the auction. He should return soon. I believe the auction was meant to be a quick affair.”
“It was not an auction!” her uncle protested. “I was merely… merely trying to show my friends what a good wife you would make. You needed it. You needed today to go smoothly. Heavens, you are—”
The Duke raised his fist again, and her uncle cowered, shutting up. He grabbed him once more and hauled him to his feet.
“Is this true? You sent Archie away for the morning?”
Uncle John nodded, his face contorted with pain. Already, two large bruises were forming on his face.
“You may try to find another word for what you organized today, Lord John, but you cannot escape the fact that you were handing your niece in exchange for money. That is an offense His Majesty would order an arrest for. If you do not comply, I will report you. I will drag you to the King myself. Do you understand me?”
Verity’s face paled. As much as she despised her uncle, he was all she had left. With her brother missing, she would have to marry any man who would take her, or face destitution. She could lose everything.
“Your Grace,” she spoke up. “I will abide by this—”
Her uncle’s body once again landed on the floor with a loud thud. He grunted, and this time, he did not try to get up. The Duke merely turned his back on him and walked over to her.
Verity felt like a fool, standing before him in her horrible wedding gown. Still, she lifted her chin.
“Your Grace—” she began.
“I’m going to make you an offer, Lady Verity,” he cut in, and she frowned in confusion.
“Marry me. Become my wife, and I will take your brother in as well, until Vincent is found. Until then, you will have security, and you will not have to deal with your wretch of an uncle any longer. Vincent would not stand for this, so I must do what I can to protect his family.”