Chapter 6
My Duchess?
The words left his lips before he could think about them.
Raph’s gaze swept the room as the weight of his declaration settled over the Lempster household. Lady Camelia’s eyes were wide, her lips parted in shock, while Lord Lempster and her sisters stood frozen, their expressions a mix of disbelief and confusion.
Lord Montague, however, was fuming, his face reddening as he jabbed a quivering finger at him.
“You cannot possibly think that this… announcement will change my plans, Your Grace?” His tinny voice echoed off the walls.
Raph’s gaze tracked Lady Camelia’s every step as she moved past him, his chest tightening when she reached for her younger sister’s hand with quiet protectiveness.
Her love for her family is fierce.
His slight admiration for her was cut short when Lord Montague feigned a cough to get his attention.
“Your plans mean nothing to me, Your Grace.” He avoided Raph’s eyes as he paced aimlessly in the room. “The arrangement to pay off Lord Lempster’s debt has already been settled, and Lady Margaret is mine by right!”
Raph deliberately placed himself between Lord Montague and Lady Camelia’s family, his broad frame a physical barrier.
He pieced it together that the Earl and his family owed a debt to Lord Montague who was there to reap his payment. The knowledge settled in his gut like a blade sliding home.
Lady Camelia’s confession and what he had overheard from the hall was enough. In that instant, a single, unshakable thought struck him: he would stop Lord Montague’s schemes, no matter the cost.
“You’re mistaken, Lord Montague.” He kept his eyes on him as he spoke. “You will not dictate this family’s fate from now on.”
“There is still a debt, Your Grace! You cannot erase it with grand gestures. Lord Lempster owes me, and I will have what’s mine!”
Raph’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. “The debts of my future Duchess’s family are my responsibility now. I’ll run the bills with my solicitor, and you’ll be paid what you’re owed. Not a penny more, not a penny less.”
He ignored Lady Camelia’s shocked expression.
Lord Montague is grasping at straws, and he knows it.
He watched Lord Montague’s expression shift from fury to frustration. The man’s lips twisted, but he had no retort; his authority crumbled under the weight of Raph’s resolve.
Lord Montague approached him slowly, like a snake planning an attack.
“How’s the shoulder?” he hissed under his breath, a sly glint in his eyes.
Raph’s blood ran cold, his mind flashing to the duel, the piercing sound of the gunshot, and Lord Montague’s smug face in the moonlight.
He dares bring that up now?
He kept his expression impassive, though his shoulder twitched with the memory of the scar.
“I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome, Lord Montague.”
Lord Montague grunted as he turned towards the Earl, who stood rigidly at his desk and remained silent. With a bitter sigh, he snatched up his papers, his movements jerky with resentment, and made for the door. But Raph stepped into his path, barring the way.
Leaning in, his voice dropped to a lethal whisper meant for Lord Montague’s ears only. “From this moment, every step you take is on borrowed time.”
The warning rang sharp and unmistakable.
Raph stepped aside with measured calm, allowing Lord Montague to sweep past him. He cast a venomous glare at Raph before yanking the door shut behind him, the echo reverberating through the study like a final note of his departure.
The room fell silent, save for Lady Camelia’s sharp intake of breath. She rounded on him, her eyes blazing as they did in the alley.
“What did you mean, ‘my duchess’?”
She’s relentless and in need of some discipline.
The dark thought swirled in his mind.
“It’s not your concern, Lady Camelia,” Raph said calmly, meeting her gaze with steady resolve. “The matter is settled.”
“Not my concern?” Lady Camelia asked incredulously. “You just announced something that involves me! And what did Lord Montague mean about your shoulder? What history do you have with that man?”
She’s sharper than I expected.
His jaw tightened as the memory of that old wound flashed briefly. He kept his expression impassive, but her persistence grated on him.
“Lady Camelia,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re not my inquisitor. Focus on your family’s salvation, not my past.”
“And what exactly does your past with Lord Montague entail?” She seized on the topic, stepping even closer, her eyes searching his for answers. “There is something! What did Montague do to you? Or did you do something to him? And why did you choose to save us from him?”
Raph’s hand twitched at his side; the old scar on his shoulder ached faintly under her scrutiny. Her sisters and father remained silent and stunned by the scene.
He cleared his throat. “Much as I enjoy a good verbal spar, perhaps I ought to introduce myself first?”
Lady Camelia blushed as she looked at her family apologetically.
The sight of her rosy cheeks took him back to the alley. He could still taste her sweet breath on the tip of his tongue. Her heady scent had clung to him long after he left her at her doorstep.
He desired more of her.
“Of course,” she said in a hushed tone. “Father, Iris, Margaret, this is—”
“The Duke of Brentmere!” Lady Margaret blurted out and immediately reddened as she clapped a small hand over her mouth.
“You are correct, Lady Margaret. That is indeed who I am.” Raph allowed a slow smile to curve his lips, and the simple gesture deepened the blush on her cheeks.
“There is no need for introductions. We are well aware of who you are, Your Grace,” Lord Lempster interjected quietly. “Might I ask how you are acquainted with my daughter?”
“Pardon my intrusion, Lord Lempster,” Raph said evenly. “I arrived this morning with a proposal for your daughter.”
Every pair of eyes widened in disbelief. All but Lady Iris’s. She sat in composed silence, her gaze fixed on him with unsettling clarity, as though she could see straight through the falsehood he had uttered.
If only her younger sisters possessed the same restraint.
But his thoughts were dashed when Lady Iris rose and asked hesitantly, “Uhm, Camelia, are you… Are you truly marrying the Duke of Brentmere?”
Straight to the point, this one.
“Camelia! When were you going to tell us you are to be a duchess?” Lady Margaret gushed.
Lady Camelia gaped at her sisters. “Sisters, I am as unaware about this as you are,” she said with genuine confusion.
“Oh…” Lady Margaret pouted, disappointment etched in her features.
Lord Lempster cleared his throat, his brow furrowing as he fixed Raph with a stern look. “Indeed, Your Grace. Your… proposal has caught us all off guard.”
“I must beg your pardon, Lord Lempster. It was never my intent to intrude upon your meeting with Lord Montague. Yet, I confess that patience has never been my virtue. When something piques my interest, I do not wait… I claim it.” Raph’s gaze locked on Lady Camelia’s, a steady, searing heat that left no doubt as to his meaning.
He watched her throat work as she swallowed nervously. The elegant line of her neck drew his eye. An image flashed unbidden of his hand on the nape of her neck, her head tilted back, and her lips parting as she moaned his name.
“Is Camelia compromised? Is that why you’re here, Your Grace?” Lady Iris’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
Compromised? They think I’ve ruined her.
Raph bit his tongue, the truth too dangerous to voice.
She would have been compromised if she hadn’t run into me.
“Iris! I am not—”
Raph shot her a look, and she immediately stopped talking.
Good, little flower.
“Your sister’s honor remains intact, Lady Iris,” he assured firmly. “I seek nothing more than a wife, a duchess who will do her duty to me. Lady Camelia suits that role perfectly. That is all you need to know, for now.” His tone brooked no protest or inquiry.
“This is all rather thrilling, isn’t it, Father?” Lady Margaret said. Her grin was wide, yet it faltered as her eyes swept the room. “Surely it is welcome news, Camelia?”
Lady Camelia glared at Raph before turning to her sister with a soft smile. “Yes, it is splendid news, Margaret.”
“You simply must tell us every detail!” Lady Margaret exclaimed, her mischievous grin returning full force.
“In due time, Sister.” Lady Camelia tucked a loose curl behind Margaret’s ear.
She would be a fine wife.
Raph had no regrets about his hasty decision. Despite his growing hunger for her to writhe beneath him, naked and fully submissive to his every whim, the maternal care she showed her sisters would come in handy.
“Lady Margaret,” he interjected, and the room fell silent. “I assure you and your family that this isn’t a game to me.”
“Oh, I should hope not!” Lady Margaret’s tone was sharp now, all trace of her childish humor gone. “Camelia is beloved by us all, and we will not stand to see her harmed.”
Raph’s jaw tightened.
They have no idea what their beloved sister planned to do.
Lord Lempster’s face darkened. “Margaret, that’s enough!” he barked, though his voice carried a hint of exasperation.
“It is of no concern, Lord Lempster.” Raph turned towards Lady Margaret and Lady Camelia. “What is mine… will always be fiercely protected.”
And Lady Camelia will be mine.
“We need to speak privately, Lord Lempster,” Raph continued before anyone could ask more questions. “There are matters to discuss.”
The Earl hesitated, his eyes darting between Raph and Lady Camelia, but eventually, he nodded. “Very well, Your Grace. This way.”
As they moved towards the door, Raph caught Lady Camelia’s glare, her eyes burning with questions she wouldn’t voice in front of her family.
She’ll demand answers about my decision to marry her soon enough.
He braced himself for the inevitable confrontation about Lord Montague and the friction between them. The bad blood was plain to see, yet that was a bridge to cross another day.
For now, the notion of marrying Lady Camelia simply to thwart that vile man’s schemes had presented itself as an opportunity, and he had seized it without hesitation.
Curse him.
As he exited the study, Lady Margaret’s voice followed them, sharp and teasing.
“Don’t think you’re escaping my questions, Camelia! I’ll have the full tale out of you soon!”