Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“Sir,” the woman implored from behind him.
Algernon Fiztroy, the Duke of Morcaster, did not answer as he kept walking.
She would follow. He was certain of it. She wanted out of the filthy place as much as he did.
Algernon’s powerful strides carried him out of the auction room, through the gambling hell and bar, and finally, out into the street where his unmarked carriage was waiting.
His footman, dressed down in everyday clothes, opened the unmarked carriage door for him just as he approached, and it was only then that Algernon turned to look at the woman he’d just bought.
Her cheeks were flushed, and she was panting a little from trying to keep up with him.
Her complexion was getting better now that they were in the open air, but her pale skin still held a slight tinge of green.
Her eyes, a startling and rare cobalt blue, looked around anxiously, as if she could not trust a single thing about the world.
Not that he could blame her. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling.
He’d caught her little speech to the man that had sold her, and while he had been impressed by her brief bout of bravery, he was tainted with guilt.
It was clear that this particular woman had no hand in her sale and that it had happened completely against her will.
She was a woman, he gathered from the fine but outdated yellow silk dress she wore, who was some sort of outcast nobility—which was precisely what he needed.
“You should get in the carriage quickly,” Algernon suggested. “You do not want anyone recognizing who you are.”
The woman’s wide, blue, terror-filled eyes relaxed and narrowed a little as she stepped away from him and towards his carriage.
“What will happen to me once I am there?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her, as if it could ward him or any other off.
Despite his growing discomfort and annoyance, Algernon put his usually demanding nature in check. It was obvious that was going to get him nowhere, and the last thing he wanted was an even bigger scene.
“Nothing untoward, I promise you.” His deep voice reached a foreign gentle tone. “In fact, we need not touch at all, nor will anyone else lay a hand upon you, on my honor as a gentleman.”
She studied him mistrustingly for another long moment then slowly she lowered her arms and her chin.
“No one recognizes me anymore anyway,” she replied in a defeated tone. “But with your promise, I shall happily get in this carriage if it is taking me from this awful place. Though I must insist that once we are both inside, you tell me who you are, sir.”
Algernon’s brow perked in amusement, but he tipped the brim of his hat toward her and waved a hand toward the door.
He watched as the woman took a deep breath through her small, button nose, raised her pointed chin, and walked with her back straight and her shoulders back to the door of the carriage.
He waited until she was seated inside and then joined her, taking the seat opposite her. It was only after the door was shut, and he felt the wheels of the carriage begin to move, that Algernon took off his top hat and his mask.
“My name is Algernon Fitzroy, Miss. I am the Duke of Morcaster,” he explained, noting the way she immediately began to study his face. To his relief, the green tinge in her complexion was starting to fade.
“Might I have your name?” he asked when the woman said nothing.
A soft pink filled the woman’s cheeks, and she cast her large, beautiful blue eyes down to the floor. Beautiful. Demure. Mysterious. Surely Henry will appreciate such a find.
“My name is Beatrice Cooper, Your Grace,” the woman answered, a tinge of anger in her voice as she kept her eyes to the floor. “I am the daughter of an earl though he never truly claimed me as his own—even though my parents were rightfully married before the eyes of God before I was conceived.”
Algernon could hear the bitterness in her voice as she spoke the most startling confession.
It was quite a deep secret to share after first meeting one another.
Then again, given the circumstances, he was not at all sure what would be appropriate to say or not say.
Like her, he’d never had this particular experience either.
“I suppose that is your way of explaining why you ended up in such a place?” Algernon wagered.
Beatrice nodded her head. “I say this to you to let you know that I am not some common or lowly woman meant to be traded—though I believe no man or woman should be traded as I have just been.”
“Well, we agree on that,” Algernon muttered.
“And yet you purchased me all the same,” Beatrice retorted with a quickness.
Algernon’s eyes shifted back to her, wide with surprise, and in her blue orbs, he found a wary look of deep distrust. He took in her body language, confirming his suspicion.
Her back was pressed tight to the carriage seat.
Her small hands were clenched in fists by her hips, as if ready to strike him and protect her honor if he so much as leaned forward too much.
Again, he could not blame her. Not after what she’d just been through.
“My reasonings for your purchase are just,” he stated coldly. “That is all you need to know.”
“If I am to entertain you, I certainly do not agree,” Beatrice replied as her hands moved from her hips to curled around her arms. “Tell me what I am to be for you. A mistress? Surely a Duke such as yourself would have no need to purchase one at an auction. Your face is handsome enough to warrant a willing participant.”
A strange mixture of offense and amusement whirled up in Algernon as he leaned close to Beatrice’s face and glared into her eyes. He watched with satisfaction as those dark blue pools widened, her cheeks flushed red, and her bosom began to quickly rise and fall at his closeness.
“Do you even know what that word means?” he gritted out.
Beatrice’s breath stilled. She blinked, as if confused, and pursed her lips together.
“Yes?” she breathed.
Upon hearing the questioning tone in her voice, Algernon let out a gruff laugh and sat back.
“Clearly,” he stated, his tone dry as the carriage drew to a stop.
“You should not speak of things you do not know of,” Algernon chastised as the carriage door opened.
“It more often than not makes you look like a fool, and as you are about to be a wife, you do not want to appear as a fool. The ton might not have known who you were before but once you are married, that will certainly change. Trust when I tell you to be named a fool by the ton is not what any noble person desires.”
Algernon stepped out of the carriage and drew to his full height as he looked upon his London estate. It was not his preferred place of residence, but Henry loved London, so Algernon had made the decision to leave Morcaster for the time being until he could get his brother’s affairs situated.
It was not the build of the estate that Algernon disliked. The house was nice enough. It had plenty of space, an impressive garden, and even a conservatory. It was where it was built that bothered him. Unlike Henry, Algernon preferred the quiet life in Morcaster.
“Married?” Beatrice’s voice brought Algernon back to the present situation.
He turned from the large house to her with a blank expression.
“Does that not suit you?” he asked.
Beatrice tsked her tongue.
“I suppose that would be my best option given where I just came from. If I am to marry you though, we cannot stay in the same house beforehand. It would be grossly inappropriate,” she replied. “I may not have much of an education, but I do know that much.”
“Then it is a good thing it not I you are getting married to,” Algernon retorted, taking a step toward the house. “Now, come along. I do not wish to stand here all night. It has been a long, miserable evening for us both, and we, no doubt, are in equal need of rest.”
“Wait a moment!” Beatrice said, a bit too loudly for Algernon’s liking. He turned on the stairs with an unamused expression.
“You speak of inappropriate things, yet you yell loud enough to wake up all of Mayfair?” he retorted.
“What do you mean I am not to marry you?” Beatrice demanded as she caught up to him on the staircase.
To her credit, though, Algernon admitted that at least she had not yelled that time.
“That is precisely what I mean,” he retorted. “That I will not marry you.”
Hurt flashed through her eyes in a way that Algernon did not understand. They did not know one another. Why would she be offended that he was not her future husband?
“Is the woman you just bought like cattle not enough for you, Your Grace?” she asked, her tone barely above a whisper now yet still laced with just as much offense as before.
Algernon groaned then reached up to wearily rub his face.
He had thought that the auction would be the quickest solution to his problems, but now, he was starting to regret ever having such a thought.
It was not only that the entire process had disturbed him far more than he ever would have imagined, but now, he was also dealing the guilt of purchasing a woman.
A woman that both amused and greatly annoyed him at the same time.
Like a feral barn kitten, she was a strange mixture of downtrodden and spitfire—of manners and cattiness.
“Do not speak as if you know me,” he warned, his eyes snapping open to meet hers.
“Now come inside,” he commanded, growing weary of their bickering. “And I will explain all to you. Just, for the love of God, will you keep quiet until we get into the house?”