Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

“ J ames, have you reviewed the latest reports from the estate?” Alistair asked, his voice steady and commanding as he leaned over the polished mahogany desk, his fingers tracing the edges of a meticulously organized stack of papers.

“Yes, Your Grace. The harvest this year has exceeded projections by nearly twenty percent,” The Holloway estate’s butler replied, his tone respectful but tinged with admiration. He adjusted his spectacles, glancing at Alistair, who nodded again before immersing himsel in the figures before him.

“Excellent. Ensure that the surplus is allocated to our market partners immediately. We cannot afford to lose momentum.” Alistair straightened. His dark hair was neatly combed back, and he propped a finger under his chin as he contemplated.

“Yes, Your Grace. I’ll arrange the contracts,” James replied, jotting down notes with a practiced hand.

“Also, I want to discuss the renovations for the south wing. We cannot let the project stall. Have the builders submit their revised plans by the end of the week,” Alistair continued, his gaze piercing as he focused on his butler.

“Of course, Your Grace. I’ll ensure they prioritize it. ”

The duke leaned back in his chair, a momentary flicker of satisfaction crossing his features. “Good. Our business is flourishing, and I intend to keep it that way. My duty is not just to the family but to my people. They deserve stability and prosperity.”

James nodded. “Your Grace, your vision is inspiring. The estate has never been in better shape .”

“Then let’s ensure it remains that way,” Alistair replied, a slight smile breaking through his stern facade.

As the door clicked shut behind the butler at last, the duke leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of solitude settle in. The quiet of the study enveloped him, but his thoughts were anything but tranquil.

They instantly drifted to Her.

Cecilia, the lady who had intruded upon his carefully structured life. He had been in a foul mood when they first met, burdened by the pressures of his duties. He had been attempting to escape a very desperate mama from the ball after leaving her and her daughter conversing with his sister.

He had been exasperated, for many reasons. And then came the wild woman, her presence igniting something within him, something he hadn’t anticipated.

Cecilia was striking in her own right—slender and of medium height, with luscious dark brown hair that framed her face beautifully. Her green eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence that both intrigued and unsettled him.

The more she stumbled over her words and irritated him, the more he could not stop himself from taking in her features. While she blathered on, he noticed the flush on her cheeks and slight freckles on her exposed neckline in the cold. That mole on her upper lip? It was a small detail, yet it made her all the more captivating.

Despite his annoyance, he found himself wanting to tower over her, enjoying the flush of her skin and startled expression in her eyes. Alistair found himself now recalling the unexpected kiss she had planted on him, a bold move that had rendered him momentarily speechless. It was as though she had wanted to silence him, to take control of the moment. But why a kiss? It was a question that lingered in his mind, refusing to fade. She was nothing like he’d ever experienced before.

That night , he had acted out of character, allowing his frustration to seep into conversation. He remembered how he had stressed his words, almost pettily, in an attempt to provoke a reaction from her. And react she did—her fiery expression had been nothing short of entertaining.

Alistair’s heart raced at the memory of her defiance. He had never been one to revel in confrontation, yet with her, it was different. Beneath the layers of his strict exterior, he felt a stirring of emotions he had long since buried under the weight of his responsibilities. The dance of wills that left him both exhilarated and confused.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts that swirled around him. He sighed, acknowledging the complexity of his emotions. He was a duke, bound by duty, yet here he was, contemplating a lady who had managed to slip past his defenses.

How improper it was that he had let himself get manhandled into a kiss with a stranger like that. And how so much worse was the fact that he actually enjoyed recalling the whole ordeal.

A knock from the door drew the duke from the chaos in his mind at last. He raised a brow as a frown filled his face.

“Who is it?” he called out, his voice thick with irritation as the second knock shattered the silence once again.

“Dinner is served, my lord. Your mother and sister are waiting in the dining room,” came the calm reply from his butler.

Dinner?

Alistair blinked, startled by the realization that time had slipped away from him.

“Already?” he muttered, pushing himself away from the desk. He had been so absorbed in thoughts of Lady Cecilia that an hour had melted into another. Surprise and worry flared momentarily within him.

He took a deep breath, attempting to shake off the lingering thoughts of her. “Very well, I shall be down shortly,” he replied, his mind racing. He straightened his coat as he threw it on, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame the chaos of his thoughts.

As he descended the staircase, the familiar sounds of the dining room reached him—soft laughter, the clinking of cutlery, and the gentle murmur of conversation. Alistair paused at the doorway, gathering himself.

His mother’s voice floated through the air, light and melodic, while his sister’s mutters chimed in, a reminder of the normalcy he was about to step into.

“Ah, there you are. The brooding duke finally graces us with his presence,” Lydia Wexford, the Dowager Duchess of Holloway spoke as soon as she sighted her son.

“Forgive me, I was lost in thought,” Alistair replied, nodding politely as he took his seat. “Work matters, as usual, mother,” his voice echoed steadier than he felt.

Dinner commenced in silence. For a moment, Alistair felt a cold surrounding him, but it was not from any open window. He lifted his eyes to be met with his younger sister’s glare, catching him off guard.

“Uh…” He paused, glancing from his plate back to her face. “What troubles you , Evie?”

“You need to ask, brother? Oh, then it is nothing,” she replied tersely, her fork clinking against her plate as she pushed her food around.

“You’re aware I have no time for guessing games. I can tell when something’s bothering you,” he pressed, raising an eyebrow. “Is this about your groom again? I said yesterday, I did not wish to discuss it. I have been working all day today. Again, now is a poor time-”

“It’s not just about Nathaniel, brother,” Evie’s eyes narrowed as she interjected, “It’s about you. You are my brother, not my king. You think you know what’s best for me, but you don’t.”

Alistair sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m only looking out for you. You’re my sister, and it’s my job to protect you.”

“Protect me or smother me?” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “I’m not a child anymore. I can make my own decisions.”

“And such stellar decisions you make; such as this one, setting off an argument at the dinner table,” Alistair countered.

“I want a love match, Alistair! Now that I have found it, why can you not at least show trust in me? Not every man is out to use me, you know!”

“Perhaps not, but I just want you to be careful,” he replied, his expression softening as he realized the depth of her conviction. “Evie, please,” he glanced in his mother’s direction for support. She was observing the exchange with a look of concern, but from her expression Alistair couldn’t guess which of them she favored.

“You had already agreed to my marriage to Nathaniel. Why did you have to bring up your fears before his family? You could have spoken to me, or him personally. How could you question his character so openly like that?” Evie’s eyes blazed.

“I have every right as your brother,” Alistair replied, doing his best to hide the guilt creeping into his voice. “It’s my duty to protect you from fortune hunters. You know that.”

“ Nathaniel is nothing of the sort!” Evie shot back, her fists visibly clenched at her sides. “I expect you to be wise enough to see that. You have always been talented at reading people, thus, I do not quite understand why-”

Alistair felt his heart race. This was a side of Evie he seldom encountered—so passionate, so unyielding. “You’re blinded by your feelings,” he countered, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture. He’s charming, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s genuine. One must always be open to-”

“Charming? Is that all you see in him? You’re being unreasonable!” Evie’s voice rose, echoing off the walls of the drawing room.

“Do not interrupt me again, nor raise that tone at me, young lady,” Alistair narrowed his eyes, surprised at her boldness.

They stared at each other for a moment, Evie’s breaths coming in heavy bursts. Then at last, she let out a sigh, “I thought you wanted me to be happy, Isn’t that what family is for?”

“I want you to be safe,” Alistair countered, feeling the tension between them thicken. He was unaccustomed to this kind of confrontation with his younger sister, and it threw him off balance. “You’re too young to understand the implications of marrying someone.”

“Too young?” Evie laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’re treating me like a child! I’m not a little girl anymore, Alistair. I can make my own choices.”

“Let this be the last time I remind you about your tone, Evangeline,” Alistair felt annoyance begin bubbling inside him suddenly.

“Enough, both of you,” Lydia, sensing the escalating conflict, finally interjected. “This isn’t how we resolve family matters.” Her voice was calm yet firm, as always.

Alistair glanced at their mother, then back to Evie, who was breathing heavily, her anger palpable. “I just want what’s best for you,” he said softly, trying to bridge the gap between them.

Evie crossed her arms, her expression softening slightly. “And I want you to trust me. It was rude to accuse and doubt my betrothed like that, I need you to understand that.”

The tension hung in the air, unresolved, as both siblings stared at each other, love and frustration mingling in a way that only family could understand.

Alistair knew she was right, but he had his reasons for his prejudiced statements, silly as they were. There was no going back now.

“If this proves to be anything but a love match between you and your betrothed, Evie, the marriage will be called off, that is all,” Alistair stated firmly, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that brooked no argument.

“This again?” Her fork paused mid-air, her expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. “But it is a love match, brother! Nathaniel truly cares for and respects me!”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied evenly.

Exasperated, Evie turned to their mother, who remained silently observing the exchange while delicately eating her dinner. “Mother, can’t you help me here? Surely you see how oddly the duke is behaving!”

Lydia looked up, her expression calm and measured. “I cannot say anything more than I already have, Evangeline. You know my stance on the matter.”

Evie groaned, her frustration palpable. “This is not fair!”

“It’s not lady-like to frown and pout, dear,” Lydia reprimanded gently, a hint of amusement almost noticeable in her voice as she continued to eat.

Evie’s face contorted for a moment, as if she might explode with indignation.

Oh no.

Alistair raised an eyebrow, noting the storm brewing behind her eyes. His sister was hopelessly in love, that much was certain, and it both worried and intrigued him.

“Fine,” she finally muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. With that, she returned to her plate, pushing her food around with growing agitation.

Alistair felt a wave of relief wash over him; she had chosen silence over confrontation. Their mother was a strict woman, and while she cared deeply, he knew that a clash between both would not end well.

“I hope you find reason with my actions,” Alistair tried again, softening his tone slightly. “I only want what’s best for you.”

However, his sister did not bother giving him a response. Alistair sighed inwardly. Guilt chewing away at him.

No, this is all that Lady Cecilia’s fault.

I did all I did because of her, after all.

The dining table was quiet for a moment, then Lydia spoke up at last, breaking the silence with a tone that carried both authority and excitement. “I’ve invited Alistair’s future wife, Diana Kingman, Daughter of the Marquess of Blackbrook. She’ll be arriving in a few days.”

“Future wife?” This was enough to pull him from thoughts of Cecilia and Alistair raised a brow, his fork pausing mid-air. “Mother, I haven’t even met this woman yet, isn’t giving her such a title a bit forward?”

Lydia brushed aside his protest with a wave of her hand, her eyes sparkling with conviction. “Oh, Your Grace, you must trust me on this. She is exactly what you are looking for—a perfect duchess. It is settled.”

“Settled?” he echoed incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “And if she’s unbearable? What if we don’t get along?”

“Alistair,” Lydia replies, her tone now firm, “I’ve looked into Diana already. She has impeccable lineage, a charming personality, and a keen mind. You have nothing to worry about.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Honestly, Your Grace, I’m surprised you’d even question,” Lydia went on with a lilt in her voice. “You asked me to find you a perfect wife, and connection was hardly on your list of priorities.”

Alistair’s brow furrows deeper, realization springing on him. “I did not feel it would matter, yet now…” He trailed off, the weight of his mother’s words sinking in.

“Now you realize it’s not all about titles and lineage?” Lydia pressed, her gaze boring into him accusingly. A silence followed as the duke contemplated his change in wants.

“Remember, connections can grow,” Lydia spoke steadily. “I believe that if you give her a chance, you might be surprised. As I have stated, titles forming a good match are of utmost importance. Yet, a love match would be a most welcome addition as well.”

Alistair’s mother’s voice droned on, a steady stream of advice and expectations, but his mind was elsewhere.

He couldn’t shake the memory of Cecilia’s daring kiss, now her lips had ignited something deep within him. He was full of rage at the thought that a random lady could provoke such shock nor a out of character reaction from him at all.

A nagging feeling tugged at his thoughts, an insatiable hunger for more of that wildness. It bothered him, it felt like for the first in a very long time, there was something he could not control.