Chapter 3 #2
At last, an intense feeling passed through him, but seemed he decided to smother it with more whiskey.
“Why?”
Marigold was expecting the question, and still, she felt embarrassed. Yes, this man had saved her twice and had even publicly announced he was her… fiancé, yet it felt quite intimate to share with him secrets and things that she had told no one else about. She took a deep breath and exhaled.
“My family borrowed some money from them.”
He stared at her over the rim of his glass.
“That vermin said that he would own you. Is this the reason?”
“I mean…” Marigold struggled to find the right words. “These are matters that concern my… It’s a family matter that…”
She closed her eyes and, with all her resolve, tried to keep her composure.
“Your Grace, I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t press me on the matter.”
“No.”
The answer struck like a thunderclap in the small room.
“Tell me more names from this gang. Would you recognize their faces? Have you ever seen their leader?”
“Your Grace, I…”
“Were you put down as collateral?”
“It was…”
“Did you do it yourself?”
“Your Grace!” She stood up.
The Duke stopped his barrage of questions, leaned back against the couch, and drank from his whiskey.
“I am simply doing what you asked,” he said confidently.
“What I asked?”
“You’re looking for a way to repay me.” His eyes went darker. “This is what I want. Information.”
Marigold sat back down on the couch. Her first thought went to her mother.
She wouldn’t appreciate Marigold sharing family secrets with someone else, let alone a duke.
If she found out, there would be hell to pay.
But then again, she did owe all that to the Duke, and information was the only thing of value that she had. She could provide that.
“As I said, I know many of them by name. I have been to their lair, after all, many times. I even brought them some stew now and then.”
“Stew?” he frowned.
“Most of them are just boys trying to make their way, lost in this world, Your Grace.”
He nodded, and he took another sip.
“As for the leader,” Marigold hesitated, “I have never seen him, but I have heard his voice.”
A flash of disappointment went over his eyes. For some reason she would have to ponder on later, she hated to see him disappointed, so she hastened to add,
“I can take you to their lair,” she said, and his eyes lit up.
“You know where they’re hiding?”
“It changes regularly, but Donny makes sure I know where they are, taking pleasure in inviting me to intimidate me in his own territory.”
“Where is it?”
“If you really need to know, I will tell you, but I will need a favor.”
The Duke tilted his head slightly, annoyed but waiting for her request. Marigold took a deep breath as if oxygen itself was essential to mastering her courage.
“This silly rumour of the betrothal…” she explained. “I am still a lady, and precisely because I come from a very lowly family, I will simply not survive any whispers of this engagement and nightly escapades.”
He stayed silent but raised his eyebrow, openly challenging her.
“I mean…” Marigold felt the blush blooming on her cheeks. “… tonight was essential to set some ground rules and discuss the… situation.”
The Duke sipped on his whiskey without saying anything.
“I am sure you will have no difficulty letting people know that everything was just a joke.”
“You mean to tell me,” his voice was very close to a growl, “you’d rather be taken as a joke?”
Marigold looked down and shook her head.
“You are a duke of means, standing, and reputation. But let me explain to you how it is for the other side. My cousin, the one actually carrying the title, is still in the colonies. So my family is basically headless. And despite my mother’s efforts, everybody knows we are in a dire financial situation.
So if there was a rumour of you marrying me, everyone would assume that I seduced and trapped you. ”
The Duke’s eyes went dark.
“I don’t mind people calling me a penny-pincher,” Marigold said with certainty, “but to be ruined…”
The Duke said nothing, set his glass aside, got up, and sat right next to her on the couch.
“And yet you are here alone with me right now.”
Marigold froze, and if anyone were to ask her the reason why, she wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint it. It could be either his proximity, his deep voice, or even the implication of his question.
“You would not do that.”
The Duke chuckled.
“You’re either naive or fearless.”
“I am neither. I am simply observant, and I have watched you save me twice in one day,” Marigold said and turned to look at him.
Any mischievous look he had was dropped, and he seemed genuinely shocked by the truth of the facts. He got up swiftly, hands in his pockets.
“I think you completely misunderstood the situation, Lady Marigold,” he said.
“Did I?”
“It seems that you mistake me for some kind of savior,” he turned to her, “while all I wanted was information.”
Marigold stood up and came closer to this man. It was a very delicate balance that she was trying to keep right now.
“And I will gladly provide that information if you would just—”
“There will be no scandal,” he cut her off firmly.
“You don’t understand, Your Grace,” Marigold exhaled. “A man of your station would never understand—”
“I am not calling off the betrothal, sweetheart.”
Marigold was certain she was thinking of something quite important, but everything went blank the moment he uttered this phrase. It had a unique combination of a finite threat and a sarcastic punchline when he called her sweetheart.
It was quite obvious that it was her turn to say something, probably ask for clarification, and perhaps make sure that she was in the same reality as the one that she woke up in. And yet there was nothing to be uttered.
Her inaction prompted his action. The Duke moved decisively and caught her chin between his fingers. His thick pair of lips tilted up into a devilish smirk.
“You will be my wife, and you will tell me everything. This is the deal.”