Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

" I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but the Earl of Montgomery is here with his family as per your arrangement," Collingsworth, James' butler, informed him in the dignified tone of a loyal servant who was at that moment more a friend than a servant. "They are waiting in the drawing room."

"Thank you, Collingsworth," James replied with a heavy sigh.

James Chapman, the Duke of Huntington, found himself standing in front of the ornate, gilded-looking glass as the morning light softly illuminated his chamber. His fingers were busy, deftly fastening the gleaming buttons of his waistcoat, each movement deliberate and precise as was the case with any endeavor he would undertake. The fabric, a rich tapestry of deep navy, embraced his muscular frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders and the strength of his stance.

"Would that be all, Your Grace?" Collingsworth, a man who had known James since he was a small boy, asked in a fatherly tone of voice. In fact, Collingsworth had been more of a father to James than his own father had ever been.

"No, do stay for a moment," he bid, and the faithful old butler immediately complied.

"Is everything all right, Your Grace?"

With measured steps, James crossed the room to where his coat lay, draped across the polished wooden valet stand. Its deep sapphire hue caught the morning light, casting a regal glow upon the room. As he slipped his arms into the sleeves, he could not help but feel the weight of upcoming events settle upon his shoulders.

"I never thought things would end up… like this," James said. "I thought they would be here."

The butler bowed his head, knowing exactly to whom the duke was referring. "Those we love are never really gone. They are always with us, as long as we carry them in our hearts, Your Grace."

James managed a small smile. "I never took you for the emotional type, Collingsworth."

"Old age reminds man what truly matters," Collingsworth spoke wisely.

"Family," James said the word he both yearned for as well as dreaded.

This was an occasion long awaited and yet, fraught with uncertainty. Her parents' delays had left him questioning their intentions, but he pushed aside such thoughts as he smoothed the fabric of his coat. Despite the lingering doubts, there was a sense of anticipation in the air.

"That is why I am doing this," James said, as if in an effort to explain himself.

"You don't have anything to prove, Your Grace," Collingsworth reminded him gently.

"The ton begs to differ," James frowned.

He was painfully aware of the reputation that preceded him. A killer. He shuddered at the thought. He remembered how many times he endeavored to explain to everyone what had happened, but no one believed him. So, eventually, he stopped explaining himself. He learned not to pay attention to what they called him. Despite being the pariah in the ton, he built a name for himself, a name even his own father would have spoken in awe. He built an empire of wealth. But that meant he could never trust anyone. He had learned that the hard way. Those who were the closest could hurt him the most. He could not allow that to happen again. His heart would remain locked forever.

"The ton doesn't matter. Only you matter," Collingsworth reminded him. "Your dear mother wouldn't have wanted you to live your life bound to the chains of the ton."

"That is easier said than done, Collingsworth," James sighed. "I have a duty to my family. I need an heir, and with my reputation, I cannot afford to be picky."

That was why when a chance presented itself for him to marry Vanessa Middleton, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Montgomery, he had jumped at it. He had not seen the young lady in question, but others had assured him she was quite beautiful and well-mannered. Neither of those things was important. What was important was that she would be willing to bear him an heir. Once that duty was done, she was free to live her life as she saw fit, within the boundaries of propriety, of course. He saw it as a fair trade.

"Just do not forget to be true to yourself, Your Grace; that is what matters in the end," Collingsworth bowed respectfully. "I shall go and tell the guests that you will be down shortly."

"Yes, thank you, Collingsworth," James murmured.

He listened to the sound of closing doors then closed his eyes. Personally, he would have been content remaining a bachelor for the rest of his life. He did not feel like he needed a partner, especially not the sort of partner his father was for his mother. However, he felt like he owed it to his mother and his brother. They would have wanted it for him. His mother would not have wanted him to remain alone. She believed in the restorative power of love. After all, that must have been why she remained with his father until the very end, the very tragic end. He opened his eyes, banishing the thoughts from his mind.

This is what needs to be done, he kept reminding himself. It was as simple as that. With determination and conviction, he stepped out into the corridor, ready to welcome his wife-to-be.

Penelope waited in the drawing room with Adeline seated by her side, and her parents resting on the chaise longue opposite them. They were ushered in by the butler who told them that the duke would be joining them shortly. Penelope's heart was already beating like mad, but the moment the doors to the drawing room opened, she could barely breathe.

A man entered, his presence commanding attention with each measured step. He stood tall and imposing, his frame broad and muscular, hinting at strength restrained beneath the surface he was exposing to the world. His face, though stern and impassive, bore the chiseled lines of rugged masculinity, accentuated by a strong jawline and high cheekbones.

His eyes, a piercing shade of blue like the depths of a winter sky, seemed to hold a world of secrets within their icy depths. They surveyed the room with an intensity that made the air crackle with tension, every gaze a silent challenge to those who dared to meet it.

Penelope stifled a gasp as he walked over to them, closing the door behind him. Dark, tousled locks framed his face, adding to his allure with a hint of untamed wildness. Despite the severity of his appearance, there was undeniable magnetism about him, a raw charisma that drew the eye and held it captive.

From the moment Penelope laid her eyes upon him, she felt an inexplicable pull, a stirring deep within her soul that she struggled to comprehend. Why was she having such a strong reaction to that man, one she could barely control?

It was as if fate had woven their paths together in that single moment, binding their destinies in a way she could not yet understand. Though she knew she should avert her gaze to deny the allure that emanated from him like a tangible force, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away.

She longed to be the first person the man addressed, but he approached her father first, who immediately jumped to his feet.

"Your Grace," her father spoke reverently, "it is an honor to be welcomed into your home."

"Montgomery," the duke nodded barely perceptibly at her father while Penelope and Adeline also stood up, waiting to be introduced. He did not extend any formal greeting other than that, nor did he acknowledge her father's comment.

At that moment, the duke turned his attention to the two daughters, and Penelope knew that he was trying to assess which one had been brought over to be offered as his bride. A part of her understood Vanessa and her actions. The man seemed completely devoid of any emotion, and it was yet to be determined whether he possessed the basic qualities of politeness. So far, Penelope could not see any.

"May I introduce my youngest daughter, Adeline," the Earl spoke proudly. Then, his hand gestured toward Penelope. "And this is my… older daughter."

The duke's eyes locked with hers. She knew that was the moment that would seal her fate. She could choose to use her sister's name and live in her sister's shadow in which she had lived her entire life. Or… she could choose her own light and no shadow. That was a dangerous option, but one she preferred.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace," she curtsied. "My name is Penelope."

Immediately, the duke's eyebrow rose. Penelope had to admit that, even when he was suspicious about something, the man had a dark, brooding handsomeness about him.

"Was not your name supposed to be Vanessa?" he demanded to know, his jaw tightening as he pronounced each word of that question.

The earl tried to intervene. "Well, you see Your Grace… the fact of the matter is that Vanessa… she uhm…"

"Vanessa is unfortunately gone, and there is no knowing when she might be returning," Penelope stated boldly, deciding to align herself with the truth.

There were several teachings from the nunnery she had decided to adopt, and truthfulness was one of them. Besides, she had nothing to lose. She was certain that in the case of a failed marriage proposal, she would simply be sent back to the nunnery and things would go back to the way they were. Hence, the truth could only open up new paths in life which was something she was starting to hope for.

"Is this why you have decided to stall with the introductions, Montgomery?" the duke spoke coldly, turning to her father. She had to admit that he was right to be outraged and furious. She would also be if she were him. In a way, they were both being manipulated by her father.

"Well, you see, Your Grace, some complications have arisen," her father spoke awkwardly, "and we did not wish for you to think that we were not serious about this marriage."

"So, you have willingly decided to deceive me," the duke continued, with not a single ounce of understanding in his voice.

"Deceive is such a harsh word, Your Grace." Penelope watched her father squirm, until finally she decided to interfere and take matters into her own hands.

"I am here," she told the duke with determination, not looking away from him for even a moment. She did not want him to think that she was frightened of her own words or of his gaze. If anything, she was strangely titillated by it. "And I promise to be a faithful wife to you and fulfill my duties."

As she spoke those words, she could feel her heart beating inside her throat, making it increasingly more difficult to breathe, but she still refused to look away.

His eyes burned with a fiery rage. She could see that he was not a man to be swindled by any means, and she only hoped that he saw there was no one there who wished to deceive him.

Still breathing as if a storm was raging inside her chest, she suddenly felt his hand on her upper arm, gripping her gently but tightly enough for her to know that he was in control of where they were headed.

He started walking toward the far end of the drawing-room, leaving the rest of their company behind and out of earshot.

Facing her once again, with his hand still burning through the thin fabric of her gown, she trembled before this mountain of a man, melting in the ferocity of his eyes. He leaned dangerously close to her, so close that she could feel his hot breath spilling all over her lips. Her lips parted unconsciously, drinking him in.

"Do you know what duties await you?" he whispered.

"I do," she nodded hastily, her eyes wide and doe-like.

"Are you certain you wish to fulfill them all?" he asked again, in the hushed tone of voice.

She had no idea what all entailed, but for some reason, her face immediately blushed a fervent red.

Still, she nodded yet again.

Having received this confirmation, he released the grip he had on her upper arm, and immediately, Penelope felt as if a part of her own flesh was torn away from her.

"Fine," he announced as he did so, turning his attention to Penelope's father. "The wedding will take place tomorrow as scheduled, but do not think for a moment that your slight will be forgotten."

Upon those words, he headed straight toward the door, lingering in the doorway for a moment only to add, "Collingsworth will see you out."