Chapter 2 #2
Verity’s heart thudded. No. No, this was not how things were supposed to go. She did not know this man, yet he was offering her a way out. As he said, no auction, no payment made. Just a simple promise of protection from somebody who knew her brother. And it would put an end to her misery.
“I refuse to let you offer such a thing!” Uncle John yelled, trying to scramble up from the floor. He hauled himself to his knees, clinging to the arm of a settee. “Or—or I will at least demand something in return. She was going to make me richer today, and you have ruined that.”
“Even now, you try to squeeze out money,” the Duke mused, his lip curling in disgust. “You have no shame, Lord John. None at all. I will marry Lady Verity, should she agree, and you will not receive anything, for she is not something to be sold. And if you try to protest again, I will dig deeper into your businesses. I’m certain that I will find more illicit dealings to report to His Majesty.
This sham of an auction cannot be the first deplorable venture you engage in, surely? ”
Uncle John gaped at him, horrified by the prospect of the King finding out about even today. Verity herself was shocked that the Duke could make the threat so easily.
Who is he?
“You—you’re bluffing,” Uncle John sputtered, shaking his head.
The Duke let out an amused laugh and stepped forward. “Oh, do try me, Lord John. Do dare to find out whether I am bluffing.”
The smile he gave her uncle was terrifying. It was a man daring to be challenged, to be questioned again when his patience was already stretched thin.
Verity shivered again.
Her uncle swallowed hard and ducked his head without protest.
Once again, Verity found herself the center of the Duke’s attention. “Do you accept my proposal, Lady Verity?”
“I do not even know you,” she murmured, too confused by the whole ordeal to think clearly. Her mind swam.
“I’m your best chance of finding your brother. I will not demand anything of you except to appear by my side whenever it’s needed. You will be free to live as you please, away from vultures, and Archie will be kept safe from this devil’s schemes.”
He pointedly glanced back at her uncle for a moment, before looking back at her.
“All I want is yours and your brother’s safety,” he continued. “It is important to Vincent; therefore, it is important to me.”
Verity looked between him and her open-mouthed uncle, her palms sweating.
The sudden turn of today’s events had her mind reeling, but she forced herself to think on the offer for a moment. It would mean tying herself to this stranger forever, even when Vincent was found.
She would become the Duchess of Whitestone when she knew nothing about the Duke himself.
What if he was truly another vulture behind closed doors? What if he were terrible to her once they were wed? What if he was fooling her with the promise of finding her brother, only to ensnare her into marriage?
Her thoughts ground to a halt.
He did not have anything to gain from marrying her. She was hardly a stellar choice, what with her age and lack of popularity due to being off the marriage mart for so long. The lone niece left to wither in Ravenwood House.
Still, he had promised Archie’s safety, which she could not guarantee now that her uncle’s plan had fallen through.
If she rejected the Duke’s offer, her uncle would not be able to arrange another auction, what with his associates being scared off. Consequently, Archie would suffer.
But if she married the Duke, Archie would be safe, and she would be able to get him away from their uncle.
And if the Duke wanted to find Vincent, as he had claimed, that made him her only hope.
Hope was something she had not had in so long, and now she had found a tether. A way to bring her brother home.
Before Verity had even properly made up her mind, she was nodding. How could she not?
The Duke studied her as if assessing the sincerity of her answer, before nodding. “Then call for the servants to pack up yours and your brother’s belongings. You are coming with me today.”
“But the ton—”
“I do not care about the ton,” he scoffed. “I do not care if they will whisper about you living with me before our wedding. Besides, I plan to wed you within the week.” His gaze fell on her gown. “And I’ll buy you another gown. Because I’ll burn this one.”
Verity started, before giving a small smile. “Thank you.”
The Duke did not answer her. Instead, he returned to her uncle.
“You will not be attending the wedding, Lord John. I will have you nowhere near Lady Verity or Archie ever again. And if I find out that you have attempted to, I will make good on every threat I have made today.” He paused, tilting his head to the side.
“You’ll also leave Ravenwood House. Scratch that; you’ll leave London altogether, in fact. ”
“I-I—” Uncle John stammered, looking around in confusion and dismay. “You cannot decide that for me! You have no right. I have businesses to run, the estate to manage, and—”
“You can do all of that from the country. I do not want you anywhere near my future wife or her brother. People will understand, given that they will hear that you have moved for your health. As for your associates, I do believe they could not leave here quickly enough, so I am sure they will not want to contact you for a while.”
“You—you—”
“I will send you capable solicitors, of course,” the Duke cut him off smoothly. “And you shall be assigned estate managers.”
Verity paused at that, the pieces sliding together with unwanted clarity.
Why would the Duke extend help to a man so undeserving? Not out of kindness, surely.
No, it was a strategy. If her uncle remained nearby, contained, the Duke could monitor his every movement. How else would he learn of any attempt to reach her, unless the man was kept within sight?
The logic was undeniable.
“I do not think you have the right to do any of this,” Uncle John muttered, trying to rise to his feet again.
“And yet I already have.” The Duke’s hard smile was back again.
Verity wondered just who she was marrying. Her hands shook, so she tucked them behind her back, wincing as the bones in her corset dug into her ribs.
Heavens, the dress could not be burned soon enough.
“Now,” the Duke said, striding over to one of the armchairs. He sat down and crossed his ankle over his knee. “You and I, Lord John, shall sit here and wait for Archie to return. Yes? Do send for tea; you look ever so pale.”
Verity could only stare in wonderment, but she was already inching towards the door, unable to escape the room fast enough.
Once up in her chamber, she shut the door, tore off her dress, and collapsed into the chair at her vanity.
What on earth had she agreed to?