Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

" S on?" Duncan looked up as a soft voice broke through his thoughts.

"Yes, Mother?

"You have been quiet. Whatever is the matter?" Modesty glided into his study. The years had hardly done anything to her, and she seemed to only age gracefully as the years went by.

"It is nothing."

"Are you thinking about that chit?"

He had finally learnt her name amongst the ruckus of the night before. Lucy . A beautiful name not befitting of the owner. This was all her fault. He was almost certain she'd planned it all. Or had she?

He wanted badly to believe it. But something kept niggling in the back of his head. She bore little resemblance to the ladies of high society, those who peddled gossip like it was their lifeblood. She looked a little like them. Then again, looks could be deceiving.

If she wasn't a gossip peddler, she surely was a desperate chit who wanted to trap him. That much was sure. She looked the part. She was no doubt of poor financial standing. With that dress, she looked like she had not a nob to her name. Either that or she was dicked in the nob. Or…he hated to conceive the notion in his brain…his mother put her up to it.

He hated to think in that direction, but it was a possibility. No. His mother wouldn't go that far. She wasn't that desperate to see him married. She wouldn't have acted that surprised if she had truly sent the lady. The dowager countess looked downright scandalized. That was not the look of someone who had orchestrated this madness.

Besides, Lucy wasn't the type of lady his mother would typically go for. She went for the likes of Lady Evelyn, pretty and polished to a fault. Not unrefined and certainly not poorly dressed. No. His mother wasn't behind this. Which meant the lady was the mastermind.

But her eyes…they told a different story. He could swear he had seen terror in her honey-brown eyes. Pure, unadulterated fear. Could that be faked? But the feel of her rich velvety skin against his palms continued to haunt him. She was the first person he had touched in years, touched without feeling lightheaded. Or nauseous. Or clammy with sweat.

It was strange…and… nice ? She felt good in his arms. Warm. Soft. Female. It was a good feeling. He could never forget the feel of her rounded hips in his hands. Oh, she was rounded all right. But that damned dress…why the devil would she hide all that under that monstrous dress?

His groin stirred as he remembered her grinding on him, albeit mistakenly, but potent, nevertheless. No woman had lit him like this. None. She didn't even do too much, and she had already set fire to his blood.

And her face? It might have been an ugly dress, but she had a face that could offset it, if observed clearly. She had a delectable-looking jaw that called out to him to nibble on. She had a carefully sculpted face with ingrained high cheekbones that gave her an air of royalty, even though she wasn't.

Her lips? They were soft and full. And tasted of sherry, sweet and drowning. They sucked him in like waves pulling him to see. And oh, he drowned in their sweetness. She was wet. And sweet. The embodiment of sin. But at that moment, he didn't mind being a slave to sin. She was temptation itself. And he didn't seem to mind it.

And when his hand wandered to her neck? He lost it. What would it feel like to trail kisses on that elegant neck, and feel the life that pulsed there? What would it feel like to–

No. He shouldn't go there. He wouldn't go there. He had enough to think about as it was. But why her? What was it about her? Why was she different? Why wasn't her touch revolting? And why did he crave more of it?

He had touched someone for the first time in years! Without gloves! And nothing happened? It was a surprise. A huge one, akin to a miracle. No one had been able to achieve this.

Or was he reading too much meaning into things? Was he overthinking it? Could it be that he was just distracted? He had been shocked after all. Maybe that was why he hadn't noticed it. Yes, that was it. He had been in a state of surprise. That was why he hadn't felt anything. Of course.

Duncan felt at ease now that he had come to his conclusion. He no longer felt at sea, analyzing every single detail. He was meticulous to a fault and always sought to get to the root of whatever he worked on.

"Do not fret over it. It shall pass in due time." Duncan's eyes widened in surprise. "It is nothing of huge consequence. You are, after all, a duke." He remained silent. Was this truly his mother? He had been expecting a different reaction. He wasn't sure what, but not this.

"There is much we must discuss, Duncan," she continued. "Who was the lady?"

"I gathered she is Miss Lucy Hatcher, daughter of the Viscount of Pemberton." He hadn't finished talking when his mother's face fell, her nose turned in the air. Her entire demeanor shifted, her features hardening with disapproval. He could only wonder what the matter was.

"Lucy Hatcher? Of the House of Pemberton, you say?" Modesty's voice was quiet, but he didn't miss the subtle disdain in her voice.

"Yes. And why do you look so distraught?"

"Son, that lady is not a good match."

"Why do you think so, Mother?"

"Surely, Duncan, you jest. She is hardly a good match for a duke of your status."

"Why? Because she is not of noble birth?" He arched a brow.

"It does not matter why. What I do know is that Lucy Hatcher is not the right match for you. Come first light in the morrow, I shall begin to search for a suitable bride for you. We must act fast. Otherwise, we would have a hard time finding you a bride with the scandal."

"You need not bother yourself on my account, Mother. You do not have to search for a wife for me. There will be no need for that since I will be asking for Lucy's hand."

He watched as his mother's face grew red with alarm. Her lips had formed a thin line as she regarded him with what could only be a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"I sure hope you jest, Duncan. That can be the only explanation I will accept."

"You should know by now that I do not jest, Mother," Duncan scowled. "It is not for you to accept. It is my decision, and it is final." He may be her son, but he was the Duke of Northwick. He did not take kindly to being challenged.

"Duncan!" Modesty near-screeched, "you aren't serious about this, are you? Have you not heard about them? It is not just about her being of noble birth or not. She has far fewer qualities valuable than a title or wealth! That is the sort of person you intend to make your duchess?"

"Enlighten me, please. I still do not see what you mean."

"Oh, Duncan, do you not know that the Hatchers have a tainted reputation? They are not to be trusted. And Miss Lucy being their daughter only serves to further tarnish her own reputation and yours by extension. Don't you see it?"

Quite frankly, he did not. "Mother, if you do not have hard facts, then you are wasting both our time."

"Please, try to understand, son. To marry into such a family would be folly. That family is cursed. Her sister was caught in a scandal just like this a few years back but with a rakehell. It was said that she tried to trap him into marrying her, but it backfired. She was shamed and ridiculed for it. I mean, how desperate could one get? A lady at that matter!

Worse, it was said she planned it to secure her family's future. That family hardly has a nickel to their name. The viscount is well known for his silky ventures and gambling. It is no surprise he has gambled his family fortune. And it is no wonder they would send their daughter to do their dirty bidding. Unfortunately, it backfired on them all.

She was exposed for what she truly was—a scheming seductress who laid siege on the wrong castle. And now, it looks like her younger sister is following in her footsteps! Look at it. It is exactly as her sister did! I have no doubt, that she planned this all. She had you in her mind for her evil schemes. Do you not see it?"

Silent now, Duncan mulled over her words. It did make sense the things his mother said. His mind did wander in that direction. But something was not adding up. For some reason, he couldn't seem to reconcile the image of Lucy with an adventuress. He had a keen sense of judgment and it had never failed him.

"Pray, do tell, how sure are you about all of this you have said to me? A handful of times, I did hear you say that ‘it was said.' Is that the truth or do you peddle the words of gossipmongers?"

"Duncan," Modesty gasped, "this is as real as it gets. The Hatchers are bad news. You'd best do well to stay away from them. Why, they break all the rules as if they are some form of royalty. They have no sense of propriety in society. It is always one scandal or the other whenever they are out in society. And now, they have dragged you into it.

Oh, Duncan, do not fall for their wiles. ‘Tis a trap! You'd best not fall into it wide-eyed. That lady is not fit for a duchess!"

Lips pressed into a grim line, Duncan pondered on what to do. It was a precarious situation. He couldn't think about himself only. There was a whole other person to take into account. As bad as it was, he could weather the storm. He was not so sure about the lady. Yes, he might be tainted. And gossip would surely peddle about him. But no one would dare disrespect him in public. He could not say the same for Lucy.

She would no doubt be scorned. And if what his mother said was true, then she was done for. She and her entire family would be damned for all eternity. Could he let that happen? She was not the only one caught in this tumultuous web. But she would definitely bear the brunt of it. And if he did according to his mother's wishes, Lucy would be ruined for life. Why would he let her take all the blame for something they both did?

He was the one who kissed her, after all, even though she was very responsive. He had gotten caught in the moment, he would admit. It was both their cross to bear. He would never abandon her to beat the brunt of it. He was a man of honor, and he did not intend to abandon his values, least of all now.

"Oh, dear Lord, pray tell me you are not considering this, Duncan. That is not the kind of family you marry into," Modesty cried out, but his mind was made up. He would do the honorable thing, scandal be damned.

"I have heard all you have said, Mother. But it has been decided, I will marry Lucy anyway."

"What?! Decided by whom?" Modesty screeched, appalled. His face went dark immediately, not appreciating having to explain himself.

"Decided by me," Duncan said in a deceptively calm voice. His mother's eyes widened in shock.

"Duncan, you cannot possibly be serious about this. Think of the consequences, the scandal…" she broke off in horror, her mind swimming with terrible images of the very possible future.

"I shall marry Lucy, scandal be damned." Duncan rose from his chair, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "I can and will never let her take the blame for this alone. I will not let her face this like it was solely her fault."

"Duncan—"

"Enough. I shall not be interrupted again. I am no dishonorable man. I shall live up to my values. Leaving the poor girl to weather the storm is cruel, don't you think? No, I shall not do that. I will do the right thing. I have made my choice, and I shall stand by it. And I will not condone any questioning. Get ready, the wedding preparations will begin in earnest."

And with those words, Duncan turned away, effectively dismissing his mother. He would make Lucy his wife, regardless of the scandal it would bring.

But he would not touch her again. No matter how much he had enjoyed it. No matter how much he craved it.

He would not touch her again, even if it killed him.