Tempted and Tamed By the Duke (Duchesses Unbound #2)

Prologue

“May God bless your marriage and make it fruitful!” Iris’s aunt left a wet kiss on her right cheek before she waddled away and clambered into the carriage.

Iris stood tall between her father, Lord Lempster, and her much older husband, Viscount Hentley, as the last well-wishers departed.

She could not help noticing how the viscount, with his graying hair and wrinkled brow, could easily pass for her father’s brother, and the comparison filled her with quiet revulsion.

Lord Lempster turned to her with tears in his eyes, and Iris forced herself to smile as he squeezed her hands tightly. “Farewell, my daughter; your mother would have been so proud.”

Iris was about to respond when the viscount cleared his throat impatiently, signaling it was time for Lord Lempster to leave. Without another word, she watched her father descend the stairs and climb into his carriage as a grave sense of dread settled in her chest.

“I shall wait for you in my chambers while Mrs. Henkings prepares you.” Viscount Hentley’s tinny voice made her skin crawl.

“Yes, my lord.” Iris kept her gaze lowered while her husband passed her.

Prepares me? As if I am some sort of meal?

She gritted her teeth. If her younger sisters, Margaret and Camelia, were in her shoes, they would have given the old man a mouthful. But Iris was not as brave or outspoken as they were.

Not long after the viscount ascended the stairs, an elderly maid led Iris to a chamber where she was undressed and fitted into a sheer nightdress. As her hair was brushed, the day’s events blurred together in her mind.

How I wish Mama were here.

A soft voice broke through her thoughts. “My lady. Welcome to Hentley House.”

“Thank you,” Iris responded softly.

“If you need anything, anything at all, I will assist,” Mrs. Henkings said firmly.

The kindness nearly undid her. For a moment, Iris imagined her mother beside her, but the comfort vanished when she remembered what awaited her.

Mrs. Henkings met her eyes in the mirror and whispered, “Do not fret, my lady… the night will go fast.”

Iris’s eyes widened at the woman’s brazen smile, and a surprised laugh escaped her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Henkings. I shall go to my husband now… alone.”

Mrs. Henkings nodded encouragingly. “I will be just downstairs if you need me.”

Iris climbed the staircase alone. The wedding night loomed before her like a dark corridor with no lantern.

She heard whispers about what was expected of her, but she had no idea if any of them were true.

Her palms dampened and her breath shortened, but she lifted her chin until she reached the viscount’s bedchamber door.

Iris took a deep breath before the footman pushed the door open and shut it as soon as she entered.

Sealing her fate within the confines of the overly decorated room that was dimly lit by a single candle.

It was eerily silent as Iris squinted through the muslin curtains and saw her husband lying on the bed, fully dressed, with his head turned slightly to the side. He did not stir at her entrance.

“Lord Hentley?” she whispered.

But he did not respond.

She stepped closer. “My lord?”

A chill ran down her spine as she moved to the bedside and pushed aside the muslin, revealing Viscount Hentley’s body. His eyes were wide open and vacant, his chest did not rise, and his skin had a waxy pallor.

Iris gasped. “No… no, no!”

She stumbled back, her pulse pounded loudly in her ears, and her vision blurred before she let out a blood-curdling scream.