Chapter 13
Kalina
Rolling over, Kalina bumped into something warm.
And hard.
Which made no sense because there was nothing warm or hard in her bed. Shifting, she tried to shove at it. It did not feel as though she was still dreaming.
She heard her bedroom door open, the way she often did when she was just beginning to rouse in the morning.
“Good morning, mi—” Margaret’s voice cut off in a shocked scream.
Eyes flying open, Kalina jerked upright in the bed, her right hand flying out and encountering the warm, hard body of someone in bed with her.
She screamed, trying to scramble back, but her legs were caught in a tangle in the sheets.
It felt like her heart was going to pound right outside of her chest.
Someone is in bed with me!
Not just someone.
A man.
She felt dizzy as she finally caught a glimpse of his face, his expression turning from peaceful slumber to a frown as he began to stir as well.
Hereford.
Clapping her hand over her mouth, Kalina managed to stop screaming.
What the devil is Hereford doing in my bed?
This had to be a dream.
Though it felt very real.
Voices were already coming from down the hall, raised in alarm. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see movement as her doorway filled, people staring in.
“What the— Your Grace!” Her father’s voice thundered from the doorway as he strode in, scowling furiously. “What have you done?”
“Oh my God…” someone said from the door. One of the women.
“I…” Hereford’s eyes were opening.
She stared, fascinated, too horrified to move as it felt like time slowed all around her.
Hereford’s gaze met hers, and he blinked. “Where… am I?”
“You are in my daughter’s bed!” Her father was standing over them now, hands on his hips, black and grey dressing robe coming undone around his neck, scowling furiously. “You have ruined her!”
“Oh my God, he has to marry her!” That was Lady Kari, Kalina was sure of it, sounding caught between being scandalized and disappointed.
Kalina’s stomach sank, right into a pit of shocked despair.
She was not dreaming.
She was awake.
Hereford was in her bed.
He’s going to have to marry me.
The duke stared at her father for another long moment before suddenly throwing the covers back and falling off the bed.
There were more scandalized squeals from the ladies in the doorway as they realized he was nearly naked.
Kalina got a flash of his bare back; the sturdy muscles and broad shoulders that filled out his jackets so nicely, clearly had no need of padding.
He looked like one of the carved marble statues come to life and in the flesh…
not that she could truly appreciate the view in such a moment.
The duke barely made it to the chamber pot before he began to heave and vomit.
Still sitting exactly where she had been since the moment she’d sat up, Kalina stared at her father.
At Margaret, who was standing plastered to the wardrobe, eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in shock.
At the cluster of people in her doorway, including her mother, who was staring at her father with narrowed eyes and a tight mouth.
Her heart kept beating faster and faster as the sound of Hereford emptying his stomach made her own turn over uneasily.
And her father would not meet her eyes.
“Everyone out. There is no need to linger and stare.” Lady Astrid’s sharp voice cut through the din.
Relief fluttered through Kalina at the sound of someone sensible coming through.
Lady Astrid shooed the others away, including a disgruntled Tiffany and Gregory, before coming partway into the room herself.
Her gaze traveled over everyone still inside—Kalina’s parents, her maid, and the Duke of Hereford, who had finally regained control of his faculties.
He knelt on the rug, still holding onto the chamber pot, panting and looking at absolutely no one.
Lady Astrid studied him for a long moment before her hard-eyed gaze moved on to look at Kalina. The usual warmth was not in her gaze. Instead, her eyes were full of suspicion.
She knew I wanted to marry a duke. And there is something very clearly wrong with Hereford.
Freezing in place, it wasn’t Kalina’s stomach that sank. It was her heart.
Oh God.
She thinks I deliberately trapped him.
Not knowing what to do, what to say, Kalina found that she could not move. Could not think.
“John, help the Duke of Hereford back to his proper room,” Lady Astrid commanded, moving to the side to admit one of the footmen. A rather tall, burly footman who had no difficulty in helping the duke to his feet, his head still hanging in front of him.
It might have been from physical exertion. Or it might be something else.
Kalina did not know what to think. Her head whirled even as her body remained motionless in shock.
The footman scooped up the duke’s shirt from Kalina’s floor, using it to help cover the man, at least a little. His long legs were still visible up to mid-thigh as he was led from the room, his first steps stumbling before he became more sure-footed.
Pressing her lips together, Lady Astrid focused her attention on Kalina’s father, who had turned to look at her. Her voice was cool. Aloof. She’d drawn back from the warmth with which she usually spoke to them.
“The library will be open for your use, Mr. Little. I will ensure the duke knows to meet you there.”
There was a pause before Kalina’s father answered, as he could hardly be unaware of Lady Astrid’s suspicion that her home had been used to trap one of her friends into marriage. Kalina’s stomach heaved. Now, she really felt like she was going to be sick, just like the duke.
“Go.” Mother tilted her head at Kalina’s father. If Lady Astrid’s tone had been cool, Mother’s was glacial. “I will stay with Kalina.”
“I… yes.” Kalina’s father nodded. “Right then.” He glanced back at Kalina, his expression unreadable. “I will take care of everything, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Father,” she whispered, the first words she’d been able to summon.
Her father was going to take care of everything. Relief slowly began to unthaw her limbs as he walked out the door, followed by Lady Astrid, who closed it firmly behind her.
Immediately, her mother rushed toward the bed, reaching out her hands. Kalina lifted her own to meet them.
“What happened?” her mother asked in a low voice, squeezing Kalina’s fingers. “Tell me the truth. Did you and your father plan this?”
“What?” Kalina’s voice rose in a high shriek. “Of course not!” Hurt surged through her. How could her mother think such a thing? Of course, Kalina had not…
Relief, swiftly followed by anger, crossed her mother’s face, and she closed her eyes, which was when Kalina realized what her mother was thinking.
“Father did not… he would not…” She stumbled over her words, trying to think.
Of course, her father would not put a man in her bed while she was sleeping, entirely unaware. Not even to marry her off to a duke.
Would he?
“I am going to murder him,” her mother muttered, the anger in her expression quickly growing. Then she took in a deep breath. “We need to get you dressed. You need to wear your best outfit. Today is going to be difficult.”
Feeling utterly numb, Kalina let her mother pull her from the bed. She felt like a doll, letting her mother and Margaret make the decisions about what dress, what jewelry, and how to do her hair. It felt like they were adorning her with armor.
Which she was going to need.
Nothing had actually happened. She was still a virgin. Even she would not have been able to sleep through that, surely. Besides, she did not feel any different. Nothing hurt. Nothing was sore. Going by her mother’s descriptions, she should have felt something if he’d… if they’d…
She was not actually ruined. But it would not matter. The duke had been in her bed, which would have been bad enough, but his clothes were also scattered across her floor. Margaret had set to collecting them while Kalina’s mother brushed Kalina’s hair. Society would deem her ruined.
The only way her reputation could be salvaged would be if he married her. It was also the only honorable route for him, so she had to hope he would take it.
But she did not think anyone was going to be happy about it.
Nathanial
Though he’d emptied his stomach, Nathanial did not feel any better. His tongue felt like he’d licked a wet dog. He was able to mostly stay on balance, though he was grateful for the footman’s assistance on the stairs, which were far more treacherous than the halls.
He had not felt like this since the morning after he first looked at the estate’s books and accounts after his father’s death. Twice in his life now, he’d done this, but last time the worst thing he’d woken to was a headache… not a marriage.
How had he ended up in Miss Little’s room?
Trying to cast his mind back, his memories of the previous evening became increasingly fuzzy through the meal. He’d drunk too much. He knew that. He’d known it at supper.
“Ah, Your Grace?” The footman murmured, drawing Nathanial’s attention, and he nodded ahead.
A cluster of dukes was around his door. Gregory must have sprinted up the stairs to rouse all of them after Lady Astrid had removed him from Miss Little’s room. They were all standing in the hallway in their dressing gowns, frowning in confusion.
“How the devil did you end up in Miss Little’s room?
” Christian asked. He was frowning more fiercely than the others, but not in the manner of a man denied something he wanted—more the way Sebastian often frowned at Gregory over Tiffany.
He was giving off the distinctive aura of a protective and disapproving older brother.
Exactly what Nathanial needed this morning.
Gritting his teeth, Nathanial shook his head as he made himself straighten up and stop leaning on John footman.
“We’ll talk inside,” he replied grimly, gesturing to his bedroom door. The last thing he needed to do was give the staff even more fodder for gossip than they already had. Especially when he still did not have a good answer… because he did not remember.
Drake gave him a look, but obligingly opened the door, and everyone trooped in while Nathanial thanked the footman and dismissed him.
“Where is your valet?” Matthew asked, looking around as if expecting one to appear out of magic.
“What valet?” Nathanial barked, walking over to his basin. There was water in it, thankfully, though it was probably left over from yesterday. He did not care. He dunked his head into the water as he heard Drake respond to Matthew’s question in acerbic tones.
“He cannot afford a valet.”
Coming back up for air, his hair now soaking wet and some of his wits returning to him, Nathanial heard Matthew make a frustrated noise.
“I wish you would let us give you some funds. It can be a loan.”
“I did not need a loan; I needed a bride.”
Though now he was wishing he’d taken a loan from one of them. It would have needed to be an astronomical amount, and he had not wanted to be a burden on any of his friends.
But he could have taken something. Enough to get by for a bit longer, instead of insisting on taking care of everything himself. He’d still had his pride.
Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.
Well, he had certainly fallen. Right into Miss Little’s bed. He rubbed his head, wiping away the droplets that had begun to run down his brow.
“Well, now you have one,” Gregory observed, sighing as he sat down on the edge of Nathanial’s bed, folding the bottom of his navy-blue dressing gown over his lap. Sebastian sat beside him, similarly robed in dark green. Nathanial glared at Gregory, but at least the other man was not laughing.
“What happened?” Drake asked. “After you went to the library.”
Nathanial rubbed his forehead.
“I overly indulged, which is why I went there instead of joining the ladies. I sat there. Thinking.” About whether he could marry Miss Little, regardless of the issues with her position in Society. A moot point now. Bloody hell. “I think… I think I remember Mr. Little coming in.”
The words came slowly, as did the memories. They were fuzzy. He could not remember what they had spoken of.
Aware of the other dukes exchanging glances, Nathanial took the opportunity to strip off his shirt and go to the wardrobe to pull out his own dressing gown.
It was tattered and several years out of fashion, but it was also one of his favorite items of clothing because it was so comfortable.
Shrugging the puce fabric over his shoulders and belting it in place, he felt marginally better now that he was no longer standing in nothing but his shirt and small clothes.
“Do you think they deliberately trapped you?” Christian asked slowly.
Nathanial let out a long sigh. “I do not know.”
But he heavily suspected it. A small kernel of anger had embedded itself in his gut, and as he made the admission out loud, he felt it start to grow.
A sharp rap at the door had all of them turning. Standing the closest, Sebastian stepped forward and opened it a crack to see who it was. His shoulders relaxed as he stepped aside to admit Lady Astrid.
It only took her sharp gaze a moment to sweep the room, stopping on Drake in his rust-colored dressing gown for a brief moment before moving on to pin Nathanial with a glance.
“What the devil were you doing in Kalina’s room?”
Nathanial was becoming very tired of that question.