Her Bear of a Duke (Dukes & Beasts #2)

Chapter 1

" N ow, Dorothy," her father said in a low voice as they traveled, "you must remember what we told you. Your betrothed will be here tonight, and we do not want any mishaps."

"We will not have any mishaps," her mother corrected.

Dorothy nodded, but it was not as though she was in any position to argue about it.

"An animal theme, can you believe it?" her father, Connor Godwin the Earl of Bolton, grumbled to himself in the carriage. "Must all of high society lower themselves to such things as this?"

"It is only some fun," her mother, Louisa, sighed, though she did not seem too pleased with her costume either. "Besides, it is not as though anyone will know who we are."

"Of course they will. Who else in the ton will be accompanied by such a–"

He had cut himself off, but Dorothy knew what he was going to say. He was already looking directly at her.

The first ball of the season was a masquerade one.

It gave all the young ladies equal opportunity to meet a gentleman without being judged too harshly on her appearance.

Dorothy would have appreciated such a chance, but she realized as she smoothed her skirts that it might well not have helped in the end.

A mask could not cover her fuller figure, which she had decided to cover in silvery fabric.

It had made the most sense, given the animal that had chosen for her by her family.

It had been because of her stature that she had been given a small woodland creature.

Mercifully, the carriage came to a halt and they fixed their masks.

Her parents had chosen a tiger and a panther, two very large cats that Dorothy was ashamed to admit she would have loved to approach if faced with one, and they had made her a mouse.

It was quite fitting, she thought, given how they so enjoyed hunting her.

It was because she was so quiet, they said.

And so small and round, she had heard muttered immediately after.

As they walked toward the household, Dorothy decided that she would not be as quiet as her costume alluded to. She had far too many questions and not at all enough answers.

"How will I know who he is?" she asked. "It will be impossible, especially when you have not even told me who he is yet."

"It would have been difficult, yes," her father replied bluntly, "if we had not arranged for a signal to be given."

Dorothy could not possibly fathom the sort of signal that would have worked, but she knew better than to question her parents. Fortunately, until the poor gentleman was found, she could spend her evening in the way she liked to.

It was also very fortunate that her friends made themselves heard before they were seen.

She could hear the squabbling from the other side of the ballroom and she recognized Cecilia's voice in an instant.

It was the usual affair; a gentleman had asked her to dance and she had inevitably mocked him, not at all interested in parading herself around.

Dorothy found them and took a moment to look at what they had decided on.

They had, for the most part, been more fortunate than she had been, and they were at least given the opportunity to truly express themselves, and that was precisely what they had done.

Cecilia was wearing a deep burned orange gown, her mask resembling a fox.

She had quite foxlike features, too, Dorothy thought, and would have been so beautiful if she did not wear a permanent scowl.

Beatrice was a doe, and was wearing a gown of a chocolate color.

Together, they were quite autumnal, and Dorothy almost did not wish to ruin the way they looked together.

Almost.

She quickly made her way to them, taking her place beside Beatrice as Cecilia finished what she had unquestionably started.

"Good evening," Beatrice whispered as they listened. "Are you well?"

"Do I seem otherwise?"

"No, although I wouldn't have been able to see your face if there was something wrong. There is the matter of your…situation, though."

"Yes," she replied, biting her lip. "The suitor."

"Dot, I know that this has all made you unhappy, but you must begin calling him what he truly is now. He is more than a suitor."

"I know he is, but until I have met him I cannot truly believe that he is my betrothed."

"You have a ring, though."

Dorothy looked down at her hand, the large diamond sparkling in the candlelight. She should have felt blissful happiness looking at it, as it suggested that she would be very well taken care of, but all she felt was shame.

"He will not want to be my husband," she sighed. "I have been out in society for three years now, and if he did not notice me then of his own accord, then why would he have any interest now?"

"It isn't as though you liked to be noticed. Come now, you know as well as I do that you are an interesting young lady."

Dorothy shook her head. It had always been her friends that were interesting. Beatrice had a passion for baking, Cecilia was fierce and outspoken, and Emma had always been the most loyal person Dorothy had ever known.

"There is nothing notable about me, aside from the putrid colors Eleanor insists I wear."

"I cannot believe that your parents allow her to do that. They have not seen her in years, now."

"Yes, well, under threat of her telling the ton where she was truly married, they do not have much of a choice. I wish I knew why she was so determined to do that to me."

"Perhaps it is so that you push against it. You should, by the way."

At last, Cecilia finished with the unfortunate young man and turned back to them, greeting Dorothy warmly.

"Oh, Dot, can you believe it?" she sighed wistfully. "You shall be a wife within the month."

"Do not pretend you are pleased with that," Dorothy replied, but she couldn't help but smile at how hard her friend was trying. "You are the first to say that marriage is the end of a lady's life."

"Perhaps, but I will admit that my way of thinking has changed since Emma became a duchess. She has such influence now, and so much power. Can you imagine how wonderful that must be?"

"I can imagine, and likely nothing more. If my parents have chosen my husband, they will have simply taken the first gentleman that offered, and with how I am it is likely that it will be some physician that they have deemed good enough."

"You do not know that," Beatrice assured her. "Your parents would never have allowed you to have a match that they did not think would benefit them, after all."

Dorothy had to laugh at that.

"Anyway," Cecilia continued, "have either of you heard who is in attendance tonight?"

The two of them looked at one another, much to their friend's disappointment.

"I was hoping you might somehow know more than me," she huffed.

"All I have heard is that there is a reclusive duke that is supposed to attend tonight.

The hosts, the Lowthers, had sent an invitation to all members of the ton, including those that do not partake in these things, and they received a response from him.

They refuse to say who he is, though, as it might have made him less inclined to come.

It is believed that he is only attending because of the masks. "

Dorothy raised her hand tentatively, toying with her own mask between her fingers. She suddenly felt unwell at the thought of people being around her and her not knowing who any of them were. She felt a sense of unease, as though she were being watched, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

"Surprise!" came a voice behind her, startling her greatly.

She turned sharply, only to instantly feel relief. It was none other than Emma and her husband Levi. Emma was wearing a rabbit mask, her husband a wolf.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Emma, what are you doing here? You are supposed to be resting."

All three ladies looked at their friend carefully. She was with child, and from what she had disclosed it had not been the easiest thing to handle. She had been quite unwell in the mornings, and had not been able to stand for long periods of time.

"I was feeling well today," she explained, "and though we had declined the invitation we thought we might try to enter regardless and we were fortunate that our hosts allowed us in."

"You say that as though they would have refused entry to a duke and duchess."

"Well, when you put it like that," she laughed warmly.

"I see my good friend there," Levi said suddenly, looking just beyond the group. "I shall not be long."

"Feel free to be," Emma replied firmly, and he squeezed her arm before leaving.

The Duke left to see his friend, one dressed as a lion. The three ladies then turned back to their own.

"Is everything all right?" Beatrice asked.

"Of course, but with all of the complications my husband has been a little too protective of me. He seems to think I am some sickly thing when I am the same as always."

"In many ways, yes," Cecilia said uncertainly, "but if you are unwell then you must not push yourself too far. It is not good for you."

"I know what I am and am not capable of. You mustn't worry either, especially when we truly do have a pressing matter at hand."

"Please," Dorothy groaned, "might we discuss anything else? Anything at all? I cannot stand this."

"You must be prepared," Emma soothed. "And you must not worry. Everything will be all right in the end. I know that better than anyone."

"You were incredibly fortunate. I do not believe that I shall be afforded such a luxury."

"And when you think that way, you are already going into your marriage miserable. It will never work like that."

Dorothy wanted to believe her friends, wanted to hope that everything would be all right and she would be happy the same way Emma was, but it had never been something that was afforded to her.

She was not fortunate like her friends; she did not have a sister that cared about her like Emma did, nor the ability to declare that she did not want to marry and have such declarations heard like Cecilia, nor did she have Beatrice's youth that meant her family were not yet pressuring her.

She was risking spinsterhood, and her parents were not the sort to allow that.

They would not accept a black mark on their family name a second time.

"We are not asking for you to be pleased," Beatrice said gently, "but do try to see the good in it. It might not be the perfect match you have dreamed of, but such a thing does not exist. Even Emma, as happy as she is, is not afraid to say that there will be issues."

"Precisely," Emma nodded. "A marriage requires work, and as long as you both are willing to do that all will be well, even if you do not know who he is yet."

"And what if he is unwilling?"

"Then you always have a home with us," Emma promised, though Dorothy knew she could never burden her friend in such a way.

Suddenly, she heard her parents approaching. Her father took her wrist, mumbling something about them needing a word. Her friends through her pitying glances, which Dorothy hoped her parents would not see beneath the masks.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, though she knew it couldn't be anything good.

"It appears your betrothed has changed his mind, and will not be attending tonight."

Dorothy struggled to hide her contentment with that. It meant she would not meet him until their wedding, but it at least gave her another night of freedom.

"I do not know why I expected anything more," her mother sighed, addressing her husband. "Why would a gentleman go out of his way to attend an event for her?"

"He had given us his word, so I do not know why he would do this, but it is through no fault of ours."

"Yes," Dorothy nodded, hoping to end her time with them sooner rather than later. "It is perhaps nobody's fault."

"No, I said it is not the fault of your mother and me. If you had been known as a better prize, then he would have come at any cost."

"But, Father, I–"

"No, Dorothy. What do you expect me to say? I attended this event and allowed you to come because it was for the betterment of your match. If you do not try harder, then what is it all for?"

Dorothy did not know how to make them see that she had no control over a gentleman attending a ball, as it did not matter what she said. Somehow, they would find a way to blame everything on her regardless.

Her mother looked at her with more pity, but she did not want it. It was her father that used cruel words, but it was not as though her mother ever even tried to defend her. She stood back and allowed it, and that hurt even more.

Her father stormed away, leaving Dorothy alone with her mother. The pity was still in her eyes, but she could not quite face her. Dorothy hoped that her mother felt guilty about what she was doing, though she was not so certain that it was the case.

"I know this is not what you want," she mumbled. "I know that you have always hoped to find a match for yourself. That is what I wanted for you. It is what your father wanted too, but you must understand that we have been left with no other choice. This is how it must be."

"Because of Eleanor?" she asked.

"Partly, but also because we must make our way in society. We have no heir, and with your sister gone it is vital that we have our affairs in order before anything should happen. You must be married, and you must help our family name. The Lord knows that your sister will never do that."

Her older sister Eleanor hardly ever spoke with them, but she always made an effort to assist with Dorothy's wardrobe.

Their parents had allowed it, too, for Eleanor had made her own match and disappeared into the Scottish Highlands with her Baron years prior.

They were not best pleased with her for choosing a man of such low rank, nor for causing the family such scandal by vanishing, but there was not much that could be done when she had already escaped to Gretna Green and then beyond.

"I need a moment," she whispered, and left the ballroom, and then the household altogether.