Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A nna was sure she didn’t hear him right.

“I beg your pardon?” she managed.

I am looking for a duchess.

Was it a trick? That seemed more likely. Perhaps the Duke preferred young girls and wanted to drag Daphne or Emily down the aisle. Perhaps he wanted Beatrice’s money and wanted an introduction and a recommendation.

Anna, of course, could not countenance such a thing. She’d never met Henry’s brother before, the infamous Duke of Langdon, but she’d heard enough to be glad of the fact. The man was, as everybody knew, a rake. A wretch. He frequented the most shocking of public houses, kept the most controversial company, and was one of the richest men in England.

Rich enough to give his younger brother an allowance that made him a remarkably wealthy man.

He was remarkably handsome, which she didn’t recall hearing about before. The notorious Duke of Blackwood—the Duke Blackheart, the gossip columns called him—was handsome, yes, and she’d seen sketches of them in the newspapers. A tall, thin man with a hooked nose and lidded eyes, and a slightly shorter, auburn-haired fellow beside him, stocky and wolfish.

‘Wolfish’ did not seem to sum up the Duke of Langdon, however. He had dark red hair—an unusual color—and a face rather like that of a fox. He had too-pointy teeth, which only emphasized his vulpine look. He also did not seem to blink at all.

She tilted up her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Elaborate, Sir.”

He grinned wider. “That is Your Grace .”

She clenched her jaw. “Elaborate, Your Grace .”

Heavens, this day was turning from bad to worse. It was already the worst day of her life, and now she had to deal with Henry’s hellish older brother. Wonderful.

“Thank you,” he responded. “Now, I thought I had made myself clear, Miss Belmont.”

“Think again.”

“I said I wanted a duchess, did I not? A wife. Any wife, really.”

“Am I to understand that this is a marriage proposal?”

He held her gaze for a few long moments. At least, they felt like moments. It might only have been a second or two. Her heart was hammering against her ribcage.

Anna longed for her mother’s cool composure. As it was, she could feel sweat beading on her forehead and her temples, and she was uncomfortably aware of the state of her hair and dress. Not looking her best, to be sure.

“Yes, you are,” he responded, as coolly and lightly as if he were offering her tea.

She noticed that he had not offered tea, although it would be common sense to offer a hot beverage of some kind to a woman in her predicament.

She folded her arms tight across her chest. “Let me get this straight. You, a man I have never met, are asking me to marry you. We have been acquainted for, what, five minutes? And frankly, I have not made an admirable impression, and neither have you.”

He inspected his fingernails. “On the contrary, Miss Belmont, I have conducted myself admirably. You are the harridan.”

“And this is meant to tempt me into marriage, is it?”

“I am not tempting you into anything. I am proposing a business arrangement.”

More silence. Anna was now sure this was a wild dream. A nightmare, perhaps.

She pinched her arm, hard , but did not wake up.

This is real life, then. Wonderful.

“What do you want, Your Grace?”

He tilted his head. “So distrustful! Can’t a man be a gentleman? Perhaps I simply want to do you a good turn.”

She let out a harsh laugh. “Ha! All men want something in return, and you are certainly no exception. I’m familiar with your reputation, Your Grace .”

In a flash, he closed the gap between them. Anna only had time to widen her eyes and suck in a breath before long, cool fingers closed around her chin, tilting her face up so that she was forced to meet his eyes.

He was very close. There was only an inch or two between the tip of her nose and his. At this distance, she could see flecks of gold and brown in his clear blue eyes. She could see the long black lashes fringing them, tipped with red-gold.

It was, she thought, ridiculous for a man to have such beautiful long lashes.

She could even smell his cologne, an earthy but pleasant scent, almost like petrichor. Like smelling the ground after rain. She breathed in despite herself, and something that she could not quite identify coiled in her gut.

“Such a spirited little thing,” he murmured, his unblinking gaze fixed on her. “I would never have imagined Henry capable of securing the affections of such a woman. I’m almost impressed.”

She jerked her head roughly out of his grip. He hadn’t pressed hard enough to leave bruises, but she swore she could feel the cool outline of his fingertips on her skin.

“What. Do. You. Want?” Anna ground out. “You are not marrying me out of charity or pity. All men want something in return.”

He showed no surprise and did not back away. “Even my dear little brother?”

She had no answer to that, so she contented herself with waiting for him to reply.

He held her gaze for a long moment, watching her intently as if trying to read her mind. A tiny smile tugged at his lips.

So abruptly that he made her jump, the Duke turned around and strode over to the corner of the room, where a velvet bell pull hung.

“You are right, Miss Belmont. I would not ask you to marry me as a kindness. I’d consider that the very opposite of kindness. No, I have my own aims and requirements. Those aims do not, I fear, include cleaning up Henry’s messes. It is his fault that you are disgraced, and I take no responsibility for it.”

Anna felt somehow untethered, remaining in the middle of the room, swaying slightly. Every muscle in her body ached.

The door opened, and a butler appeared. It was the same man Anna had pushed past to get into the house. He shot her an uncertain look.

“Your Grace?”

“Ah, Timmins. Tea, I think. Miss Belmont will be staying here for a while, to recover. Perhaps a bowl of stew? I shall leave it to your discretion. Tea, certainly. Do you like cake, Miss Belmont?”

“Eh? What?”

“I shall take that as a yes. Everybody likes cake. Perhaps a shawl or blanket for Miss Belmont, also. She seems rather damp. That will be all.”

The butler executed a neat bow and withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.

The Duke threw himself into the chair he’d occupied earlier and gestured to an empty armchair opposite. “Sit, sit. We have things to discuss, I think.”

Anna wasn’t aware she’d already crossed to the armchair until the cool leather touched her skin. Drawing in a breath, she laid her arms on the armrests.

“Go on, then. I imagine you know already that I have no dowry. So, what are your expectations?”

“Expectations,” he murmured. “Not the word I would have chosen. Expectations imply hope. No, I have terms , Miss Belmont. Rules, I suppose. Hear me out, then you can decide for yourself whether you wish to agree to my terms. If you do agree, then we can put the special license my brother obtained to use and marry immediately. Thoughts?”

Thoughts? Anna hadn’t had any of those for a full minute or two. A headache was forming behind her eyes, pulsing at her temples. She longed to rub the bridge of her nose, or better yet, lie down in a darkened room and purge the memory of today from her mind forever.

Well, that was certainly not going to happen, so she concentrated on the here and now.

“If you want to marry,” she said, “why not choose a Society lady? Why marry your younger brother’s cast-off bride? I imagine rich ladies throw themselves at you daily.”

“They do,” he conceded. “But they are swiftly driven away by my… shall we say, my character . To be frank, Miss Belmont, I’m a singular sort of man. I like to make things happen. I like to seek out what I want. Henry is content with whatever he stumbles across, but I am more discerning. I have toyed with the idea of a wife before. A second wife, I should say. There was a previous duchess. Her successor must be…” He hesitated, fumbling for the right word. “… remarkable .”

“Remarkable how?”

“That is for me to decide. Now, do you want to hear my terms or not?”

Anna considered telling him exactly where to take his terms and then getting up and marching out. It would be satisfying, certainly, but only for a minute or two. Then she would be outside again, in the rain that had just begun to fall, a jilted bride and the laughingstock of London, with nowhere to go and nobody to help her.

She conjured up an image of the Earl of Downton’s unpleasant, smiling face and momentarily closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the Duke was staring at her, a strange expression on his face.

“Go on,” she said. “I’ll hear you out.”

On cue, the door opened, admitting the butler and a footman. The footman set down a tea tray laden with cake, good things, and a steaming bowl of savory-smelling stew that made her mouth water. The butler carried a clean, warm blanket and carefully draped it around her shoulder. Her cheeks burned.

“Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Madam,” the butler responded carefully.

They both withdrew, and she glanced over to the Duke. He was pouring two cups of tea.

“Rule number one,” he said, pushing a cup towards her. “As my wife and the Duchess of Langdon, you will be responsible for raising my daughter.”

She flinched, nearly spilling the tea.

“You… you have a daughter?”

He smiled mirthlessly. “Hasn’t the gossips told you that, at least? She is seven years old, and her name is Katherine. Kitty. She?—”

“I had no idea.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Rule number two, do not interrupt me. I’m not a chatterbox, so waiting your turn to speak should not be terribly hard, don’t you think?”

She felt the color rise to her cheeks. The man was insufferable, but he was showing more hospitality than she had strictly earned. He was, to her annoyance, being perfectly polite, too. Except for when he’d grabbed her chin, of course. She could still feel the ghost of his fingers brushing against her jaw.

“May I speak?” she ground out, at last.

He nodded benignly. “You may.”

“Go on, then. Rule three. I assume there’s a third rule.”

He took a delicate sip of his tea. “You assume correctly. We would be the Duke and Duchess, not two halves of a whole. We are not soulmates. We are not even in love. I expect you to leave me alone. No idle chit-chat, no cozy evenings in the drawing room. I shall have my life, and you shall have yours. Do not bother me about pointless matters. In fact, don’t seek me out at all unless it’s an emergency. By emergency, I mean something important and pressing that you cannot solve yourself, or something to do with Kitty. Do you understand?”

“I think perhaps you underestimate how fascinating you are. I don’t particularly see myself wanting to speak to you very often, Your Grace.”

He smiled thinly. “Excellent. That brings us to the fourth and final rule. It’s rather… a delicate matter.”

She bit her lip. “Tell me.”

“I require an heir, Miss Belmont. A male heir. Now, I am sure that my brother promised you a… what do they call it? A white marriage. A marriage of friendship.”

She flushed but said nothing. It had been an awkward conversation to have with Henry. Of course, Anna had not been attracted to Henry, but it was still a little mortifying to see his relief when she agreed they would not share a bed.

The Duke eyed her for a long moment, his face revealing nothing.

“I am not at liberty to offer you such a thing, I am afraid. My daughter cannot be the Duke of Langdon, and I have long since made my peace with the fact that Henry will not produce any heirs. So, I must have sons. One son, at least. That means that you and I, Miss Belmont, must make one.”

Anna cleared her throat, placing down her teacup in case her hand shook.

She knew, of course, what took place between man and wife. She and Beatrice had giggled about it before, and Octavia had had a long and uncomfortable conversation with her only the previous night. Octavia didn’t know, of course, that Henry and Anna had no intention of living together properly as man and wife, and Anna had no intention of telling her otherwise.

“I see.”

The Duke lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really? I shall do my best to make sure it is not an ordeal.”

“I’m sure.”

He hid a smile behind his teacup. “Thoughts?”

She shrugged. “I can agree to all of that. I’m good with children. I have two younger sisters who I adore. I could introduce them to your daughter, as I’m sure she’s starved for good company, considering she has to deal with a wretch like you.”

He let out a short laugh. “Goodness, you are opinionated! Perhaps I should add a fifth and final rule. You will obey me. You will not talk back.”

She snorted. “Well, I can’t agree to that . I think I’d rather die.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Think of it this way. As the Duchess of Langdon, you’ll outrank just about every man and woman in Society, including your mother. With one exception. That exception, of course, is the Duke of Langdon. I require a little deference and a little peace, but in return, you’ll receive money, status, respect, freedom . You can go wherever you like, spend whatever you like, live however you like. You said yourself that raising my daughter will be no chore, nothing to worry about, and you have no intention of seeking my company. Really, you are getting a fabulous bargain, don’t you think?”

She bit her lip hard, tasting copper.

It galled her to defer to anyone, least of all this man. But really, what option did she have?

None. No options at all.

“I agree to your terms,” she said at last, her voice sounding muffled in her own ears. “As to the business of… of the heir , I agree to that too, but first, you must promise me something. My family must be cared for. I want our debts paid off, and I want my mother to keep the estate. I want my sisters to be sponsored during their debuts, and I want them to have dowries. Please,” she added, feeling a twinge of guilt. Dowries were expensive.

He smiled wryly at her. “So, you’d sell yourself for money?”

There was a taut moment of silence.

“What did you say?” she rasped, her fists clenching.

She allowed herself a moment of fantasy, imagining flinging herself at him and slamming her knuckles against those sharp cheekbones.

He smirked. “Just a joke.”

“Not a very funny one.”

“We all sell ourselves for something,” he said shortly, waving a hand. “I am selling myself to get a mother for my daughter.”

She said nothing, and he sighed.

“Look, Miss Belmont. You know how much Henry’s allowance is. My wife—the Duchess —would be entitled to at least twice that. Think of it. No more debt. No more worry. Your reputation—which, quite frankly, is in the gutter—will be restored.”

She raked a hand through her hair. More crushed blooms tumbled out, landing on the ornately patterned carpet beneath her feet.

“I sell myself so that my little sisters don’t have to endure the same fate,” she said quietly.

Her gaze aimed at the ground, she didn’t see whether the Duke’s expression changed or not.

“Very noble. However, since you will be a duchess, I’m sure you’ll find a way to console yourself. Now, there is more to discuss regarding the heir.”

She sighed, sitting back in the chair. “Tell me the worst.”

He eyed her for a long minute, his expression unreadable as always.

“Making and birthing children is, I understand, easier when one is younger. I propose that the two of us make all necessary efforts to produce an heir within the first year.”

“Agreed.”

“Once a son is born, your freedom will be absolute. You may take a hundred lovers if you like—only don’t present any bastards as mine, understand?”

She flinched at the tone of his voice. “What on earth… I would never do such a thing! What is wrong with you?”

He pressed his lips together. “Forgive me, but I needed to be clear. Furthering this point, I suggest that these… efforts begin immediately. We are both healthy, as far as I can tell, and there is a fairly good chance that you conceive within the first month of our marriage.”

Anna shifted. She didn’t enjoy this line of conversation.

I’m not a broodmare, and you’re not a stallion, even though you clearly think you are.

There was something worse, though. It was impossible not to think of the act when the Duke talked like this, and she subsequently envisioned herself and him …

Best not to allow those thoughts to take root. Anna firmly conjured up an image of a nice, warm cup of tea and focused on it.

“We must try our best,” she continued.

He kept eyeing her. Was there some reaction he was waiting for?

“I am a busy man,” he said shortly. “Since you are not to annoy me with chit-chat and your general presence—which you have assured me is most agreeable—and we are not to share a bed, there’s nothing for it but for me to summon you.”

There was silence.

“ Summon me?” she managed.

“Yes. I shall not hurt you, and I shall not force myself on you, which is why your acquiescence is necessary now. At the end of the month, we shall wait to see whether you are expecting. If not, we will renegotiate these matters. Once you are with child, I will naturally leave you alone. When a son is born, I shall leave you alone forever. It’s a necessary evil, I assure you. So you must agree that, for the first month of our marriage, you will answer my summons whenever and wherever I send for you.”

There was more silence. Anna sat stock-still, thinking.

How has any of this happened? I came looking for Henry, for heaven’s sake!

She swallowed hard, thinking of the Earl of Downton again, the way he’d sprawled over their drawing room sofa.

The Duke, at least, looked better than the Earl. The Earl had never inspired anything besides disgust, certainly not this… this… Well, Anna did not know how to describe it. Her insides did a flip every time the Duke’s eyes met hers.

She kept remembering how good he smelled when he leaned close to her, how broad his shoulders were and how thick his chest seemed to be. He struck her as the sort of man who was muscular under his dainty Society suits.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it? Going to bed with a man like that?

Not a bed, actually. He said no beds, more or less. But then where ? —

Stop it!

“Very well,” Anna heard herself say. “We have a deal.”