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

Chapter 3

" I …"

"I heard you the first time," he interrupted. "Why are you doing this?"

He had seen many things in his thirty plus years of life, but he had not seen a sister try to sabotage her sister’s chances of marriage.

"Because I have a better candidate for you," she answered boldly.

"And who would that be?" he asked humorlessly. "You?"

She nodded with the same serious look on her face.

He laughed beside himself and looked her up and down and then back to her face.

"You’re joking," he stated still laughing.

"I assure you I am not," she answered looking affronted that he wasn’t taking her seriously.

"Well I cannot. I have chosen your sister," he answered. "She is well suited to my needs."

"Why do you think she is a much better candidate than I?" she asked folding her arms. "We are sisters, and I practically raised her. So whatever traits she has, I also possess."

"She is beautiful, charming, has a ready laugh and has the favor of the ton ," he listed off all the points his mother had used to campaign for her as the best candidate. "She will grant me that favor by extension."

Everything you are not. The words were unspoken but hung heavily in the air.

"I taught her everything she knows. She has only had a successful debut because I was there to guide her through."

He scoffed. Now she was trying to downplay her sister's charms just so she would come out on top. He shook his head disappointed. He could expect this manner from people who claimed to be friends or even other debutantes and not one's own sister.

The ton had really become a dark place if it could drive such a strong wedge between family.

"I hear you have never had a season. How could you possibly have guided her so well that she is the darling of the ton ?"

His words stung and he saw her wince, but she pushed the feeling aside and squared her shoulders. The woman was a fighter and if he had not heard her speak the last few minutes or needed a wife with good social standing, he might have considered her.

"I know that it is very easy to doubt my words, but you cannot deny that there is no one who knows more about the rules of the ton than those who watch from the outside." She answered, visibly undeterred. "We see the full picture whereas the players only get a glimpse of the game they play."

Her confidence in her skills set a kindling of desire in his blood that he willed away. She had more steel in her than many a gentleman, but his mind was fixed on her sister.

"You have made your petition well, but my decision cannot be changed, Miss Victoria."

"But Charity is much too young for you and... well..."

He raised a brow at how her words trailed off. She couldn't even meet his eyes and he wondered what could have brought such bashfulness to a woman who obviously had no such reservations when trying to snatch her sister's fiancé.

"She is in love with someone else," she breathed out as if the words hurt her to say.

He wanted to laugh at the hilarity of the words. He had thought her a woman with common sense but using such an excuse was the most ridiculous thing. Seeing how serious she was, he couldn't help but laugh.

"You're actually serious," he stated, shaking his head. "I would have expected such an excuse from anyone else, but it seems I might have held you in much higher esteem than I should have."

"Your Grace, I do not tell a falsehood," she argued, looking affronted that he would accuse of something like that. "If it weren't true, I would not have said it."

He tilted his head to the side watching her. What did she stand to gain from the marriage? Was she looking to elevate her own status?

"Let's say I believe you, what do you stand to gain from marrying me?"

She was silent but couldn't meet his eyes.

"I do wonder what will cause you, a woman who has been described as sweet and caring, to usurp her sister’s chance at happiness."

"I am not trying to usurp her chances!" she hissed, then shaking her head to calm herself down, she breathed out deeply. "Your Grace, I only want to see my sister happy. Believe me, if I thought you the best at making that happen then I would not be here doing this. I would be waxing lyrical about her charms."

Now his ire was stoked.

He frowned down at her, not liking the way she gave no reaction to the look other women considered menacing enough to make them quiver in fear.

"She will be happy when she is married to me," he growled out. "Love is only an illusion artists and poets have used to trick young minds. Once she is well situated and cared for in my home with more jewelry and dresses than she could hope to wear in her lifetime, she will forget all about the silly love affair."

"Do not reduce my sister to that. She wants more out of marriage than material things." She glared, visibly incensed.

"She is a woman first. In my experience, they all want the same thing."

And it was true.

He had kept mistresses and had dalliances with widows and spinsters such as herself and had had enough evidence to support his theory.

"That is because you interact with the wrong sort of women," she retorted.

"And you would know the sort of women I have dalliances with because?"

"It wasn't exactly a closely guarded secret of yours, Your Grace," she answered shrugging her shoulders. "You made sure to flaunt your current partners in the eyes of everyone watching. No respectable woman would subject herself to such treatment."

He smirked and stepped closer to her. Now her eyes widened but not in fear but surprise, he noted. He had become increasingly good at reading people while in active service and she was an open book.

It was a refreshing change from the practiced words and reactions by debutantes. At least those who were brave enough to remember their lessons in the face of his scars.

He respected the woman before him, he found much to his surprise, but she needed to know that he didn't intend to keep a chaste relationship.

"Your Grace," she whispered, placing a hand against his chest. "You are much too close."

He smiled down at her.

"I want you to understand what it will be like when we are married," he said slowly. "As you said, I am not a man to hide my attraction and I am a man of many appetites. I require a woman who is unashamed to fulfill them."

She blushed and met his gaze with steely resolve.

"Are you one such woman?" he probed further, wanting to see if her resolve would cave under such bold scrutiny. "Do you think you will be able to satisfy me, Miss Hobbs?"

"I do not presume to speak as one with experience in pleasing men, Your Grace," she answered boldly. "But if you will be a patient teacher, I will prove to be a most diligent student and in no time at all, I may learn all the necessary skills to please you."

Her words, pouring from lips he now noticed were full and plump and begging to be kissed, incensed the desire that had pooled in his blood begging for release since he had returned from the war.

He couldn't help but wonder where the demure woman she had been described as, was?

She was as bold as any of his past lovers, who had whispered similar words albeit practiced, but her innocence still shone through making them all the more enticing.

He could feel the familiar stirrings of his past self and was sore tempted to put on that shroud as he had as a young man and flirt and charm this woman into a forbidden adventure that would keep her warm for the rest of her life.

He would not marry her, but he wondered if she would be thoroughly averse to him setting her up as his mistress until the wedding.

She looked like she would be eager to please him in bed and he had once delighted in teaching women tricks.

Her words reminded him of the young man he had been. When he had lived without a care in the world except the next woman he would bed.

And wasn't that what he had wanted?

To feel desired again.

To feel as unafraid as he had then, without the ghosts of the war or the memory it had left across his face.

He took a step back from her, turning away so he could school his features into an unreadable mask.

"Your Grace, I assure you that I can be the partner you need," she went on, unaware of the struggle she had set off in him. "My sister is young and innocent in the ways of the world. She..."

"...is the one I have chosen, and I will thank you to remember that," he warned turning back to her.

His desire for her and the memories she had evoked in him had made him angry.

How dare she give him false promises of desire and flirtation again?

He knew the moment she saw the rest of the scars riddling his body them her resolve would come crumbling and he would be left hurt again.

"Why are you so adamant?" she hissed.

"I have already told you my reasons, Miss Hobbs. Are you that hard of hearing that you would make me repeat them?"

She glared at him and stepped closer to him.

"You are wrong about her being the only woman who can help you achieve your goals."

"You are one stubborn woman."

"No. I am just a woman who would do everything she could to get what she wants." She answered. "I have coached my sister through a successful season. Taught her who to talk to, who to mingle with and who to avoid. She would not be the darling of the ton without me and she knows it."

"If you are that experienced, why aren't you married and situated in your own home yet?" he asked.

He knew the question stung from the way her resolve cracked momentarily but he was undeterred.

"What happens if you fail at helping me accomplish my goal?" he pressed. "It is selfish of you to only consider it from your angle and foolish to only consider the possibility of success and not failure."

"What you call foolish, I call optimistic."

"Optimism will not bring back dead soldiers, Miss Hobbs," he answered, not liking the debate they had just begun. "Optimism will not restore my reputation or account for the scandal divorcing you will bring."

"Your Grace, I..."

"You only have two minutes to propose a better offer that can make me consider not telling your father about our conversation."

Her eyes darted around warily. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she considered other options of getting him to consider her.

"I see you’re unable to say anything," he said after a long minute. "I will take my leave then and I will keep this conversation between us secret, if only to save you your father’s disappointment. Goodbye Miss Victoria."

It was almost sad to see the panic in her eyes but he had at least given her a chance to make her case other than highlighting her sister’s shortcomings and she had failed. He was dubbed the Duke of Devil but that didn’t mean he was a beast.

He was almost outside the door when she called to him loudly. Her hand grabbing on to his arm was a surprise. As was the spark that shot up his arm.

"Wait. I have a proposition," she said quickly, still holding on to him as though she feared he would leave.

He looked down at the arm still wrapped around this and shot her a look that had her releasing his arm.

"I am sorry," she apologized.

"What is your proposition?" he asked, closing the door softly. "I am sure you realize that by now our absence has been noted."

"It’ll only be a minute, Your Grace."

Anthony hated to have noticed he liked the hard resolve he saw in her eyes. She was determined on her cause even though it wasn’t a worthy one. If she had put this energy perhaps into securing her own husband, then perhaps she might have been married by now.

"I am waiting, Miss Hobbs."

She nodded and braced herself as though she were preparing for war.

"I ask that you accompany me to three events of my choosing and give me the chance to show you that I can be what you need."

He raised a brow at her, wondering why she thought that would be a good idea. She couldn’t possibly hope that by being seen and out about with him, she could ruin her sister’s chances even if he didn’t convince him.

He told her as much and saw the exasperated look in her eye.

"I told you, Your Grace, do not accuse me of such behavior."

"Then tell me what you stand to gain from this?"

She couldn’t meet his eyes again which he had come to notice as what she did when she was trying to lie.

"I will be giving my sister a chance at seeking her happiness."

"And you think I am unsuited to make her happy?"

She sighed. "Do attempt to understand me, Your Grace."

"I am, but forgive me if I cannot trust the words of a woman who accosts me in a dark room to ask me to end my engagement to her sister."

"You can trust me to want what is only best for you both."

He scoffed, looking away from her.

Her hand surprised him once more when it landed softly on his again. His eyes darted down to where her had touched him, wondering why the annoying sparks were back again.

"Give me this chance, Your Grace, and if I fail, I will say nothing of this to anyone. I would be too mortified to anyway."

He looked at her then and realized that if indeed the content of their conversation were to be known by anyone, her reputation might take an unrecoverable blow.

Was marriage really worth the trouble?

"Let's say I do agree to this…proposal of sorts, what events do you have in mind?" he asked stepping closer to her. "And if by some miracle you are able to convince me, do you understand what marriage to me entails?"

"Y... Your Grace?" she stuttered at his proximity. "I do not…"

"If you are to be my wife…" he said slowly, nearing her with each step until her back was pressed firmly against the wall. "It means I will have every right to you."

His words were accompanied by a long look down her body which interpreted his words to her. For the first time, he saw fear in her eyes and wondered if she would still be intent on her course now she realized she would have to share his bed.

"I do know that, Your Grace."

"And you do not fear it?" he asked, wanting to hear her answer.

He had not known when it happened, but his heart started to beat faster with anticipation of her answer. He tried to will it to calm. It was meant to be a test to scare her off and not him but his subconscious need to feel he was still desirable had surfaced and there was no escaping it.

"I have nothing to fear from you, Your Grace," she answered, looking in his eyes.

He laughed low and long in disbelief.

Did she not know the rumors surrounding him?

Or perhaps she was blind.

The scar running down his face was too hideous for polite society but he was only accepted because his duchy was one of the most powerful in England.

"You think so?" he muttered, putting the dark feelings that had surfaced aside. "Fortunately, we are alone and unlikely to be disturbed soon. This is a good time to prove it."

"Your Grace, I cannot…"

"I am not asking for much, although it would not be unwelcome," he said nonchalantly. "One kiss would suffice."

"Your Grace," she protested.

"Prove to me that you can perform the duties I expect my duchess to be able to," he added. "Kiss me and I’ll accept your proposition to convince me you’re a worthy match."

She laughed disbelievingly and bit her lip, visibly struggling to make a decision. He admired her innocence, respected it even. It gave him hope she had not completely been debauched by society.

"Alright."

Her words had surprised him but not even more so than her lip pressing firmly against his and way less than the bolt of lust that shot through him.

She stepped back from him, eyes wide with shock.

"I…"

"That wasn’t a real kiss," he told her not knowing why he was playing with fire. Already, his breeches felt too tight and even a cold swim might be unable to help him. "This is."

He pulled her to him and captured her lips in a kiss that was sure to leave her breathless. A moan escaped her that fueled lust through his blood.

Her hand went to his shoulders and then his hair and soon she was returning his kiss with a ferocity that had him wondering if she perhaps was not as innocent as she let on.

She gripped his hair tighter and his hand ran down her body to cup her buttocks. When she moaned again, common sense flooded him and he pulled back from her, turning away to hide the evidence of his desire.

"I accept your proposition," he said. "I will be writing to you later in the week."

He stepped out of the room as if the devil was after him, needing to get away from her as quickly as he could before he did something both of them would truly regret.

Damn , he thought. He had really bitten off more than he could chew with this one.

Victoria touched her lips as the door shut quietly. They were slightly warm and stung, a telltale sign she had not just imagined what had happened. She had really kissed the Duke and she had... liked it.

Oh God.

She leaned back on the wall as shame filled her. She had acted no better than any of the previous women who had thrown themselves at him and engaged in such improper dalliances with him.

But even worse, the proposal she had made him had been ill thought out and she wondered now that if she really were to put in effort and somehow succeed in getting the Duke’s attention, would she be able to bear the brunt of the ton ’s judgement?

Her plan would require her stepping out of the shadows and away from the wall where she had been content to watch the game being played for years and to step into the actual playing field.

Would anyone find it odd if she were to put aside her garbs denoting spinsterhood and go for more fashionable styles?

Victoria could almost hear the tongues of members of the ton wagging now.

They had been unrelenting in their taunts when her sister had been spoken of as the darling of the ball, surely, they would seek revenge on her behalf if she were known to have usurped her fiancé who she didn’t even want.

She thought back to her interaction with the Duke and how he had no less judged her thus. She wondered why he had even accepted her proposal.

He was of a higher station than her and had nothing to gain from allowing her to attempt changing his mind. He had no reason to humor her so why had he?

She had heard the moniker he had been given since returning from the war with the scar across his face; the Devil Duke, just because he had shunned company, choosing solitude instead.

His name had been tagged with many false stories, obviously concocted by people who had nothing better to do than spread rumors.

The moniker was out of character with the man who had not outrightly laughed her to scorn or worse taken advantage of their seclusion.

She had noticed the look in his eye. He had wondered her insane for trapping herself with a man where no one would find them, but he had done nothing more than attempt to scare her off marrying him by showing her they would be intimate.

Did he think his scars made him less desirable?

She shook her head to stop the flood of memories of how solid he had been against her and how her blood had sung with liquid fire when he had kissed her.

For her plan to work, she had to make sure that no one caught wind of him asking for her sister’s hand or it would all crumble before it began.

She hurried back to the ball with her heart pounding an unsteady rhythm, hoping that her father had said nothing of the match yet.