Chapter 4
“Imust go…” Lucy took a step back.
The Duke frowned at her. “Is something the matter?”
“I…” She looked about, panic rising because she knew that even if she turned and fled, it would be too late. Not that this would stop her. “I must… this was a mistake.”
With that final word said, Lucy kept her head down, turned, and hurried across the far back wall of the hall. She could feel the eyes on her, she could hear the whispers, but she ignored them the best that she could.
A moment later and she stumbled from the hall, into an adjoining hallway. Free from the view of the guests and her father, her entire body trembled as the walls themselves seemed to turn.
It is not so bad… so what if we were seen speaking together? That is the entire point. Nothing to worry over. A few minutes and everyone are sure to forget.
The words were the right ones, even if they made no difference. Lucy found a wall to lean on, needed to stop the room from turning. Her breathing was suddenly heavy, a weight on her shoulders, and she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to find calm.
Unfortunately, no sooner were her eyes closed did she picture her father and Lady Fairvale.
She saw the excited look in their eyes, and she knew as she knew anything that this would not be the end of it.
Even if she was to deny it, to assure her father that nothing had happened, people would speak of this—Lady Fairvale would speak of this, desperate to mark tonight as a success.
A few more deep breaths and Lucy started to calm down… that was until the worst happened.
“Lady Whitcombe?”
Lucy’s eyes snapped open when she heard her voice spoken. Her stomach then dropped through the floor because he who spoke was the very last person she wanted to see.
It was the Duke, of course, and he powered down the hallway toward her. His expression was one of worry, but that made no difference to her. Maybe he had been honest before? Maybe he had not been? The effect was still the same.
“Is something the matter?” he asked as he came near. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“What are you doing here?” she hissed at him. As she did, she glanced over his shoulder, praying he was alone.
He stopped short of her. “The way you took off just now. It was… concerning. I wished to make sure that nothing was wrong.”
“No, no, no,” she said as the fear rose inside of her. “You cannot be here! Did anyone see you?” She looked down the empty hallway again. “Did anyone see you follow me?”
“Did anyone…” He trailed off, clearly caught off guard by the way she was behaving. “I am not sure. I did not think to check.”
“Of course you did not!” She threw her hands in the air. “Why would you? It is not as if you would even think–” She caught her tongue, aware that she was close to saying the wrong thing. “You need to go. Now.”
He could not have looked more confused. “If I have offended you, I do apologize. I only wished to check on your well-being.”
“It matters not what you intended,” she sighed. “What matters is how it looked. God!” She groaned and started to pace. “This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”
“Trying to avoid? I do not understand.”
“I told you already that I was forced to be here.” She stopped pacing and turned on him. He was far bigger than her, far more intimidating and powerful, but it made no difference with how she felt. “And I would have thought you might have understood what that meant.”
“I take it that you have no intention of being courted.”
“I have no intention of it even being suggested that I do.”
“Which means…” His brow was furrowed only for him to suddenly realize. “Ah. With you fleeing just now, and with me following you…”
“Everyone who saw it will think that we are together,” she said sharply. “Worse, they will think that we are trying to hide something.”
“Perhaps nobody saw.”
“Everyone saw!” she cried and threw up her hands.
“And by the time we return, there will not be a soul in there who does not suspect that you and I…” She shook her head as if doing so might dispel the reality.
“It will be on every tongue on the estate, and soon enough every soul in London will think that I belong to you.”
“I can simply dismiss such rumors,” the Duke said as if it were so easy as that. “Allow me to return and tell it differently.”
She scoffed. “You know that is not how it works. The harder we fight it, the more people will wonder why. They will think we are hiding something, and in lieu of direct evidence, they will concoct their own.” She started pacing again as her pulse quickened with worry.
“This is precisely why I did not want to come in the first place. This is precisely what I was trying to avoid!”
“I am sorry,” he said, and he sounded as if he meant it. “I did not mean…”
“It makes little difference,” she snapped. “The damage is done and there is no changing it.”
As she paced, Lucy worked through in her head what was likely to happen from here on out.
Her father would be the first to approach her, positively thrilled that she was seen with the Duke.
Lady Fairvale would be next, and even if Lucy turned her away, she would persist. She would insist on telling all that her event was where the Duke met his future bride.
There is nothing I can do… no changing it… and worse still, when nothing comes of this, the natural assumption will be that I am at fault.
Lucy did not harbor aspirations of marriage. She did not secretly desire to meet the man of her dreams. But that did not mean that she was against the notion entirely. One day, she always thought, she would have to marry and that when she did, it would be to someone who she wanted.
Who would have her now? Who would want her after this? She would be a pariah of the ton, and her stepmother, knowing her to be damaged goods, would likely marry her off to the first man who offered his hand.
“There is one solution to consider.” The Duke stood perfectly still, in complete control of his emotions.
“Does it end with me fleeing England and living my life on the road?”
“Nothing as drastic as that,” he said. “You are right in what you say. Like it or not, there is no escaping this situation. Not without reputations being ruined.”
“Wonderful.”
“That is unless we turn a brewing scandal into a celebration…” He looked right at her, and Lucy’s stomach clenched. “Marry me,” he said matter-of-factly. “Marry me and no one, anywhere, will be able to judge you.”
Lucy looked at the Duke blankly.
She looked for the humor on his eyes. She looked for the laughter on his lips. She looked for anything to reveal this suggestion for what it was: a joke. It had to be!
As should have been expected by now, the Duke was the picture of calm. He did not blink. He did not balk. He did not cower away. He was being deadly serious.
“What?” she blurted finally. “Marry you? Is this a joke?”
“Does it sound as if I am joking.”
“You must be!” she cried, letting her peril take hold of her. “That is all it can be. I…” She tried to laugh but it was a pitiful stammer. “I cannot marry you. It is absurd!”
“And why is that?”
“Because… because… because…” She searched for an answer that made sense. One that existed beyond her own misgivings. “I thought you said that you did not want to be here, as much as I? That this event disgusted you. Your words.”
“I did,” he said. “And it does.”
“And yet here you are, trying to take advantage of it!”
“I do no such thing,” he said coolly. “Were the circumstances different, I would not ask such a thing. In fact, I am starting to regret saving you from Lord Barrington…” He sneered. “Even from afar, the man’s effects are felt like a leech sucking blood.”
“But you did save me,” she pressed. “And now, at the first chance, you seek to use me. No…” She shook her head. “You are not… why would you want this? You are a duke. Your name will be fine, scandal or no.”
“Maybe I am just that chivalrous?” he said dryly. “I see a maid in need and cannot help but save her.”
She curled her upper lip. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“You? No…” He chuckled. “You are far too quick for that.”
“Then why?” she demanded. “Why do this?”
The Duke considered her. His brow furrowed. His lips pressed together. And once more, his dark eyes searched her as if he could see right through her.
Only this time, Lucy was able to see through him too.
There was more to the Duke than he was letting on. He spoke around the subject, refusing to give her direct answers, and a battle raged behind his dark eyes as he assessed her and what to do and say… worried about how she might react to whatever he was hiding.
“My reasons are my own,” he said finally.
“That is not –”
“But I assure you, there is no malice involved. I do not want to marry, just as I know that I must. Do I wish the circumstances were different? More than you can know. But they are not, and so, here we are. Marry me,” he said again.
She took a step back. And then another.
Lucy’s world fell apart right before her eyes. Her mind was fractured into a million pieces as she tried to pull them all together, a desperate effort to come up with a plan. Something beyond being forced to wed a man who she knew nothing about.
But there was nothing… no hope… no way out… no one to save her.
“It might surprise you to hear but I listen when you talk,” the Duke started as he took a step toward her. And then another. “I know you do not wish to marry, just as I know you were forced to do this.”
“That is no secret.”
“My guess is that you are one who desires her freedom. One who carves her own path and resents it being chosen for her.”
“What are you –”
“I do not want to marry for love,” he spoke over her.
“What I am suggesting is a marriage of convenience, a union in name only. Marry me and in return I will protect you. I will suffocate the scandal before it has a chance to build, and I will ensure that once we are named man and wife, your life will be your own.” He looked right at her.
“It is, to be perfectly candid, the best that you can hope for.”
Lucy felt her defense breaking.
She did not want to do this. Was it up to her, she would laugh in the Duke’s face, turn and walk right out of here, never thinking of him again. She would return home, she would tell her stepmother that she did not control her, and she would live her life as she wished it.
But it is not up to me… it never has been. Ever since my mother died, my life has belonged to someone else, making me a passenger, no control or agency of my own.
What the Duke offered her was not a way out. It would not solve her problems. It would, however, give her a small chance at that which she always desired: freedom. Or rather, the perception of it.
“It that a yes?” the Duke asked, sensing her falter.
“I… I…” Her insides turned. Her world shattered. And when she pulled herself from her reverie, Lucy was faced with the harshest of truths: she had no choice. “I will… I will marry you.”
The Duke did not smile. He did not seem particularly pleased. A simple nod was all he gave her; a business deal that he had gotten the better of.
Only then, he frowned and tilted his head. A thought passed behind his eyes, and he clicked his tongue with frustration. “There is one more thing I must ask you.”
“Say it,” she sighed.
“How are you with children?”