The Duke and the Accidental Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #5)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

" M iss Gouldsmith!” the Duke cried in shock as Isabella shut the door behind her. He looked about the carriage and back to the house, making sure that they were alone. “This is highly inappropriate.”

“As I said, we need to talk.”

“We just did.”

“Alone,” she said as she settled across from him. “Without my mother there to influence you.”

“Influence me?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “If you think that your mother’s opinion has any effect on me, Miss Gouldsmith, then you clearly do not know me at all.”

“Oh, please...” She rolled her eyes.

“As I have told you time and time again, this wedding is a result of your interference and my honor. Anything I might have said just now that seemed designed to appease your mother was done simply because I do not tolerate insubordination and silliness.”

“Is that so?” she scoffed. “The way you spoke of us just now. One would think that we were star crossed lovers in league with Romeo and Juliet – and I know why you did it, by the way. Do not think I am such a fool to not understand.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“So that she would agree to this wedding without argument.” Isabella looked smugly at him. “You were so darn convincing that I am starting to wonder if you are truly as against it as you claim.”

Oh, he does not like that!

Isabella could see the look of fury in his eyes, a subdued temper that she brought out in him with a little too much ease. And where Isabella knew it was not smart to do so... if annoying him such that he cancelled this wedding was her only option, it was one she would gladly take.

And the fact that a small part of her took pleasure in that fury? A pleasure that she did not fully understand but had been unable to stop thinking about since the last time they had spoken... she supposed that was a risk she needed to take.

"I said as I did because I had no choice,” he explained patiently. “As I have already explained to you, but I will do so again because you are even more dense than I expected --”

“--- I am not --”

“-- you are the one who brought this on us,” he spoke over her, a deep growl in the back of his throat, paired with a warning glare that told her interrupting him was not the best of ideas. “All I am doing is making sure that we come out the other side with our names and reputations still in one piece. I am sorry if you were not happy with the way I spun our little tale but if you were not being so obstinate, I would not have had to do so. Now...” He leaned forward and opened the door. “If there is nothing else, I think it is best if you go back inside. As I said, I will write to you once the banns have been confirmed and a date is set. Until then, I see no reason for us to speak.”

The smart thing to do was to take his cue and leave.

What the Duke said made enough sense, and even Isabella did not think that he wished for this marriage any more than she did. She was just trying to bait him! As she had been doing since he first arrived.

Further to that point, Isabella still refused to admit that there was no way out of this – the Duke was just being stubborn, a trait she knew well. Yes, it would be messy. And yes, for it to work, she might have to push the Duke to the very edge of reason until he saw no way forward save for ending this engagement, even if it meant embarrassment and shame.

But if that is what it takes, then that is what it takes.

“I have to say, Your Grace, I am a little bit disappointed.”

His Grace, still leaning forward with one hand on the open door, frowned. “What do you mean?”

Isabella hesitated. She realized suddenly that what she wanted to do and what she could do were two entirely different things. Yes, flirting her way out of this might have been an option, but she did not know what that meant. Or if she had the inane ability to do such things.

He cheeks flushed furiously as she sat herself up and pushed her chest out. “You did not compliment me on my… my dress.” She could not even look at him as she spoke. “I wore it just for you and I had hoped you might notice.”

His eyes dropped to her body but looked away just as quickly. “That is not... the dress is highly inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate. How so?”

He seemed overly careful not to look again. Licking his lips, brow turning red, she could see the effort it was taking him. “I know what you are doing.”

It’s working… I think it is. Surely, this is what flirting looks like?

“An -- and what am I doing, exactly?” She forced herself to meet his eyes, even if she was feeling less than confident about this whole thing.

“And again, I must make it clear...” He cleared his throat. “There is nothing that you can do to change my mind. This marriage will happen.”

“Yes, you have said that. I was just asking for an opinion.”

“Once we are married, you are not to dress this way again. Do I make myself clear?” He spoke those final words in an angered growl which washed over Isabella’s skin like a wave.

She very nearly faltered. She wanted to! Suddenly aware of how alone the two were, this entire plan of hers was becoming more and more foolhardy by the second! A shame then that she was so stubborn.

“Oh...” She bit into her lip as she considered what she might say next. “Should I wear less? I confess, any less than this and I might have to wear nothing. Is that what you are implying?”

It was working. She could see that it was. He was beginning to sweat. He was turning flushed in the face. Body shaking slightly, she could literally see the fight within as he struggled not to rise to anger.

That’s it... let it come... get angry... understand that this is what is in store if you do not change your mind...

He took a deep breath. “I suggest you stop now, Miss Gouldsmith. And I suggest that you do as I ask and leave this carriage, immediately.”

“Or what?” she shot back, dropping the facade and turning her attention back to anger where it belonged. “You wish to know me better? You wish to understand who it is that you are so set to marry? This is me. And if you cannot handle that, well...” She met his eyes and cocked an eyebrow at him as if daring him to bite. “I am sorry to say there is not much you can do now, is there. You saw to that.”

She watched him closely, certain that he was about to snap at her. And she braced herself, half-fearful, half-excited. He might get angry, but it would pass. And when it did, he would realize how foolish this endeavor was and hopefully do what he was too cowardly to admit needed to be done.

The Duke took a deep breath and closed the door.

Then he took another, leaning back in his seat and fixing his gaze on her. It was steeled and intense and predatory. Not angry. Not filled with uncontrollable fury. But dominant and powerful and assertive in ways that had Isabella suddenly wondering if this was such a smart idea after all.

He was bigger than she had remembered. In this small carriage, he took up over half of it; a hulking figure that if he stood might just burst through the roof. Those wide shoulders. That heaving chest. Thighs so thick and arms so round, it was a wonder he was able to fit into clothes.

Double guessing herself – if only for a moment -- Isabella leaned back slightly as her heart began to race.

“I know what you are trying to do,” he said calmly, even if there was a bite to his words. “And know this, it won’t work.

“Wh -- what I am trying to do?”

“You are trying to upset me. You have this foolish notion that if you anger me or frustrate me that I might see the error of my ways and call off this wedding?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“I should let you know, that will not happen. Where indeed you might cause me to anger, the result will not be a cancellation of this wedding.”

“Is that right?”

“It will be...” He sucked through his teeth as if to force a calm. “Regrettable, to say the least. But not in ways that you might imagine.”

Her heart began to beat faster as she dared to imagine what that could possibly mean. Flashes back to the other night... memories of what he had done.

Is that what he means? Surely, he is not so worried about that?

“It is a good thing then that you are wrong about my intent.”

“Do not lie to me. And do not treat me like an idiot.”

His words were sharp, and they shot through Isabella in a way that struck her right to the core. She felt them low in her stomach, a pang that radiated to her thighs which now shook.

She attempted to straighten. “I am simply being myself, and if you do not like that about me, there is nothing I can do about it.”

“Yourself? Is that who this is?”

“Yes,” she said with little conviction. “This is who I am. Is that a problem?”

“It will be, if you continue to behave like this.”

“I am not behaving like anything,” she said. “It is who I am --”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I am not!”

“You are stubborn.”

“As are you.”

“You are a foolish girl who refuses to admit when she is beaten.”

Her eyes flashed anger. “And you are a... controlling, idiotic male who thinks that the world revolves around him!”

The side of his mouth twitched. “And you have a mouth on you that you would do well to keep tamed.”

“And if I do not? What are you going to do about it.” She sat up and fixed him with a glare. Her body was growing hot. Her anger was building. And where good sense told her to back down, the other more stubborn side wanted to see what it was exactly that His Grace seemed so scared of. What this warning pertained to.

“Not cancel this wedding.”

She laughed coldly. “Oh, now I see what is really the cause here.”

“Which is?”

She smirked and flashed her eyes as a thought came to mind. A most dangerous one. “It is quite simple, really. All this time, I thought that you were just being stubborn and needed a little extra convincing. But now I see what the real problem is.” She looked right at him. “You are a coward.”

He stiffened. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” She licked her lips, knowing that what she was about to say was the wrong thing, but unable to help herself. But what else is new? “You are a cowa – oh!”

The Duke was on her.

He leapt across the carriage and mounted her. Pushing her back against the seat, his legs straddling her and pinning her down, his large body trapping her beneath its weight. His size was even more noticeable now, the way he leered over her, the power that he had... a sense of knowing that he could do literally anything he wanted with her, if he so chose.

Isabella’s eyes went wide. Her body trembled. The first instinct that swept through her was fear and terror because she was completely helpless and at this man’s mercy. But then...

... a different sensation began to build inside of her. It came with the beating of her heart. The sweating of her body. The tingling in her loins as she yearned for him to hold her down and remind her in ways that were not proper what might happen if she spoke to him like that again.

What on earth is that!

“I have been more than patient with you,” the Duke growled. He lowered his mouth so that it was inches from hers. “But my patience is very slowly running out.”

“A -- and?” she stammered. “What are you going to do about --”

“I understand that you are not happy with this arrangement,” he cut her off, his words biting. She could feel his crotch pressed into her leg and it made her quiver and moisten. “Nor am I. But unlike you, I have chosen to be the bigger person and accept it. I suggest that you do the same.”

“And...” She swallowed as she tried to meet his eyes, forcing herself even if the anger in them made her gasp. “And if I do not?”

His laughter was cold. “I have warned you what will happen. And I was not speaking out of turn, Miss Gouldsmith. You will behave yourself because if you do not...” He sucked through his teeth and then leaned in closer, his mouth going to her ear. “I promise that I will make you behave in ways that I will enjoy very much. Is that understood?”

She did not answer but she gasped at the implication, goosebumps breaking across her skin. Body turning stiff and cold yet somehow also warm. That sounded like a threat. Yet, why does the thought of it excite me so much?

“Answer me,” he growled.

“I understand,” she stammered.

“You will behave?”

“Y -- yes.”

He pulled back and reached under her chin. A single finger rested beneath it, and he lifted her chin so that their eyes were meeting. He held them, letting her see that he was being as serious as a man could be.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me, Miss Gouldsmith?”

“I am,” she said in a whisper.

He smiled and flashed his eyes. “That is all I ask. Now...” He leaned in and she thought he was going to kiss her! Her first instinct was to pull away but her second was to take it, to accept it, to submit to his will because what choice did she have?

He did no such thing.

Rather, he leaned into her ear. His tongue ran up the inside of it. He nibbled it gently, just enough that she gasped. And then he said clearly so there could be no mistaking his words. “Get out.”

The Duke pushed himself back and sat down. He glared warningly at her, the anger within still very much present but also controlled. And Isabella, shaking where she sat, barely able to breathe, unwilling to look the Duke in the eyes, did as he said. Perhaps for the first time.

She threw herself from the carriage, tripped and stumbled and then made for the door. By the time she reached it, the carriage was gone and she was on her own.

She did not calm right away. Nor did she go back inside. Her entire body was shaking in ways that she had never felt before as she pictured what had just happened, trying to reckon with their meaning. Both the Duke’s words, and her own response to them.

Although she could not comprehend most of it, for she was still too rattled to think clearly, there was one truth that even she was forced to finally admit: she had vastly misread the Duke.

Duncan cursed himself as the carriage pulled away from Miss Gouldsmith’s home. He cursed himself!

What was I thinking! She was baiting me! I knew that she was! Yet like a horny, impetuous simpleton ruled by his manhood rather than his brains, I fell for it. Dammit, I wanted to!

He had known exactly what she was doing. From the moment he had first seen her today, wearing that dress, possessed of an air that told him that she had her mind set to one task and one task only: to upend him. She had not been subtle in her goals and for that reason, Duncan had underestimated her.

Or perhaps I have overestimated myself.

Duncan was not a naturally violent man by any means. He did not need to be. Born into a world where he almost always got what he wanted, what need was there for violence when every man living did as he was commanded without question?

And yes, he had a slight temper. But raising his voice and snapping at someone who refused to listen was generally enough to see him get his way. And besides, there was a huge difference to raising one’s voice in anger than to what had just occurred between himself and Miss Gouldsmith.

He had thought earlier to how dangerous Miss Gouldsmith was, and that belief had just been proven unequivocally.

When it came to Duncan’s sexual proclivities, he loved being told no. He loved having to turn a no into a yes. He loved disobedience which begged for reprimand – which demanded it! -- because it was a type of power-play which he was so unused to in his day-to-day life.

Consensually, of course. And that needed to be noted. What he wanted was a woman who knew how to push his buttons, who did so on purpose because she knew what was coming if she did – who enjoyed it just as much as him. That, to Duncan, was the very definition of bliss.

It had been years since he’d last had that. Over a decade ago, now. She had been a commoner, someone who had been able to look past who he was and not feel intimidated like women of the ton so often were. She had played into this perversion of his, relishing it, baiting him constantly and forcing him to punish her in ways that they both enjoyed more than words could describe.

That relationship was years ago now and its unfortunate end had broken Duncan such that he had promised to never give in to such temptations again.

Enter Miss Gouldsmith...

She had not done so on purpose, but the result was the same. The way she had denied him. The way she had cowered him. The way she had seemingly begged him to reprimand her was more than Duncan could bear! He had not wanted to lose control like that, yet she had forced his hand and was likely now terrified of him. As she should be.

She did not want to marry me before. Now, I am quite certain she would rather marry a rabid hound than dare to share my bed...

Duncan took a deep breath as he attempted to clear his mind and settle his still beating heart. If he had the choice, he would simply do as they both wanted and put an end to this engagement. But that ship had long since sailed.

Now, with this marriage going ahead, Duncan would do what was right and commit fully – What else can I do? What he wanted, what he prayed for, was for Miss Gouldsmith to have heeded his warning and to behave herself. But if she did not...

I need to learn control. No matter what she does, or what she says, I cannot allow myself to become that person again. For her safety, as well as my own.