Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

" I believe we are in agreement, then," Duncan stated, his voice sturdy in the calm authority of a man used to getting his way. His dark eyes flicked briefly to Lucy, who met his gaze. He felt a warmth he did not want to acknowledge trickle in him. "Miss Hatcher and I shall be wed at the earliest convenience."

Still, her gaze didn't waver. If anything, it grew stronger. What was it about her that elicited these foreign emotions in him? Sure, she was not hard on the eyes. But he had surely encountered women of the same beauty, if not more. Something niggled in the back of his brain. What was it then?

Was it the rich pools of gold in her eyes? Or was it her bee-stung lips that reminded him of fresh strawberries that heralded summer? Perhaps, it was the feel of her, the wondrous softness of her lush curves.

He could not for the life of him figure it out when she kept looking at him with those hardly readable eyes. For some reason, he wanted to know what she was thinking; what she was feeling. He hated that he cared to know. But it could not be helped.

Only moments before, she had fled the room with her mother hot on her heels. Mayhap, she did not want this match? Well, if she did not, all she had to do was give her word and it would all come to a halt. He would never force anyone to be with him.

He thought it the right thing to do to restore her honor, to give her a bearing of dignity by making an honest woman out of her. But, if she did not see the need, then they could call it off. He preferred for it to come from her and not him. Let it be on record that he had stood by her and she had turned him down.

Even now as she sat opposite him demurely by her mother's side, and her hands clasped tightly on her thighs, she still arrested him with her heavy gaze. He felt unsettled. And he hardly ever felt unsettled. Hardly anything offset him. Her delicate frame was swathed in a simple muslin dress. Her face was drawn; resigned. Her hair flowed around her shoulders this time like a golden halo on her head.

There was an undercurrent of tension in the drawing room which made no sense as her father was bustling with excitement. Her mother seemed content enough. And the lady–

"We are most grateful for your magnanimity, Your Grace," Lucy replied, pulling him out of his reverie, her voice strained yet polite. Duncan inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her.

"Lord Pemberton, Lady Pemberton," he said with a formal nod, his deep voice commanding the room's attention. "I would like a moment alone with Miss Hatcher before I take my leave."

A collective gasp echoed through the room, followed by a tense silence. Lady Pemberton's eyes widened with concern, while Lord Pemberton's brows furrowed in worry. It was not customary for an unmarried gentleman to request a private audience with a lady, even one he was betrothed to under such unusual circumstances.

The couple exchanged uneasy glances as they prepared to leave the room at the duke's request. "Are you certain, Your Grace, that you wish to speak with my daughter alone?" Lord Pemberton's voice wavered slightly, betraying his concern.

Duncan's face pinched considerably. He did not take kindly to being questioned, certainly not by people of clearly lower station. They would not dare disobey a duke. He did not care whether this was the family he was marrying into. He would personally teach them a lesson on manners. He had half a mind to rebuke the viscount but thought better of it. But his resolve remained clear.

"I am, Mr. Hatcher," Duncan said, purposefully not calling him Lord Pemberton. The older man preened considerably, knowing he had been scolded, although not so directly. "There are matters that need addressing between us, privately."

Lord Pemberton exchanged a hesitant glance with his wife. Lady Pemberton, her face pale but composed, tightened her grip on her husband's arm.

"Very well, Your Grace," Lord Pemberton finally managed although his voice wavered slightly. "You may speak with His Grace. We shall take our leave now." Reluctantly, Lucy's parents acquiesced and left the drawing room. The heavy oak door closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving them in a hushed silence, the crackling of the hearth the only sound breaking the stillness.

Lucy's heart pounded at the duke's unusual request. What more did he want now? Had she not agreed to their marriage? What else could he possibly want to discuss with her again?

Smoothing the folds of her lavender muslin day dress, Lucy stood willing her racing heart to slow. She looked at the shelves stacked on the wall, bursting with books. She smiled, enjoying the little comfort it gave. It was her own little sanctuary and basked in the familiar scent of aged paper and polished wood.

But then, she got a whiff of him that stirred her senses, that tempted her to go closer and take a deep sniff of him. There was no explanation for this–she had clearly lost her mind.

She loathed to admit it, but he had done her a huge favor. He was a duke, after all. He owed her nothing. She was only the daughter of a viscount who had lost almost all his money to bad businesses. Her family was not the best. In fact, they were banned from society. Unofficially, but banned, nevertheless. But, he had stepped in to cover her shame.

She had no idea where this union would end up. But in the meantime, her family would not be eternally damned.

"Miss Hatcher, I must speak frankly with you," the duke started.

Lucy straightened her shoulders, standing to her full height. Still, the duke dwarfed her considerably. "I am at your service, Your Grace."

He acknowledged her with a nod. "Your cooperation in this matter is appreciated. The scandal we were involved in last night was…regrettable, to say the least. However, I believe this arrangement will benefit us both."

Lucy's ears rang. Regrettable? Of course, that was how he felt. How stupid of her to have thought otherwise. And of course, she regretted it as well. It was the most stupid thing she had ever done. And it had cost her dearly. It was an unfortunate event. And she detested it. Yes. She did.

So, why then did her chest feel hollow at the duke's words?

She did not care. She would not care. It was one moment of stupidity that had cost them both. And he had come to realize it, and protect her from the harsh judgment of the ton, still. That was of the most importance. And she would not sweep that under the rug.

"Thank you," Lucy began, her voice barely above a whisper. She stood with her hands clasped before her, her eyes fixed on the floor. "Thank you for proposing, Your Grace. Given the circumstances, your offer is most generous." As much as she didn't know what the future held for her, she was no ingrate. The duke had given her one magnanimous offer, one she may never have gotten, scandal or not.

The duke's brows furrowed slightly as he regarded her. "It was a given, Miss Hatcher. Generosity had little to do with it, I assure you. After everything that has transpired, it was merely the logical course of action."

Lucy shook her head, her curls bouncing softly. "No, Your Grace, it was not. You had no obligation to make such an offer. Many men would have chosen to ignore the matter entirely. You did not, and for that, I am grateful."

Duncan's gaze flickered with something unreadable before settling into a cool, distant look. "You speak of your sister, do you not?" he asked, his tone deceptively mild.

Lucy stiffened, a dangerous fire lighting instantly in her eyes. "I do. But if you mean to insult her?—"

"You will not speak to me like that ever again," Duncan disapproved in a deceptively calm tone that chilled her to the bone.

She reined her tongue, clenching her fists behind her. "My apologies, Your Grace. ‘Tis just that my sister has suffered a lot at the hands of the ton for no fault of hers."

"I mean no insult. I am well aware of the scandal that befell your family. Your sister was wronged by a rake who failed to honor his commitments. And your family has suffered the consequences ever since."

Lucy's heart clenched at the familiar tale of her sister. "Theodosia was not at fault, Your Grace. She was a victim of circumstance," Lucy said defensively, her voice half-trembling with anger and the other half, sadness.

"I do not intend to disparage your sister. I merely wish to point out that the situations differ. Unlike the scoundrel who wronged your sister, I am a man of honor."

"You say that, yet you propose a union of convenience. What honor is there in that?" Her heart beat furiously, almost as if it would fly out of her chest. There she was, questioning the duke again. But she could not help it. She had to know.

Duncan took a step closer, his misty blue eyes piercing into hers. "It is precisely because I am a man of honor that I make such an offer. You do not deserve to bear the brunt of the ton for both our mistakes."

"And for that, I am grateful, Your Grace. My family and I shall be indebted to you."

Were her eyes playing tricks on her or did the duke's expression soften? "Be that as it may, Miss Hatcher, but we must dispense with any misconceptions." It was definitely her eyes because his tone remained firm.

"Do not mistake my intentions—our marriage will be one of convenience, nothing more. You will have my name and my protection, but there will be no intimacy between us. I have no intention whatsoever of consummating this union."

Lucy blinked, the words sinking in with startling clarity. "I see," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then why—why did you kiss me last night?" A flush crept up her cheeks, her earlier gratitude morphing into bewilderment and hurt. It had been her first kiss—-stolen albeit. But he had lit a fire in her with that one kiss.

Stop it, Lucy. You are no better than a loose woman. Why was she even hurt? It was for the best. She would not have to bother about satisfying her husband. Yet, she would be protected and provided for. And so would her family. It was the best of both worlds. Then why did she feel a pang in her chest?

A flicker or something—regret, perhaps—crossed Duncan's face, but it was gone in an instant. In its place was his usual stoicism. She wondered if she had seen it at all. His jaw tightened, and he turned away, his gaze focusing on the delicate porcelain vase on the mantelpiece.

"It was a lapse in judgment, a mistake born of a moment's indiscretion, nothing more. It will not happen again. I give you my word."

Her heart ached with confusion and hurt. A mistake? A lapse in judgment? How could he say this to her? How could he use such cruel words to describe what they share—she would not go there. He truly was cold as he was heartless. And she let rage consume her.

"A lapse in judgment, you say?" Lucy ground out through clenched teeth.

"It is a matter I do not wish to discuss," his eyes narrowed to slits.

"You speak as if it were of no consequence, Your Grace, but it has had significant consequences for me and my family."

The duke faced her squarely, his eyes cold and distant. "I am aware, Miss Hatcher. Which is why I am offering you a way out of this scandal that would otherwise ruin you. I understand your sister was not given such an offer. I am giving you a chance to avoid a similar fate."

Oh, how dare he! How dare he mention Theodosia's misfortune so casually? So, he was a saint now, offering to shroud her in a cloak of white. Her eyes lit in a flash of anger.

"Do not speak ill of her, Your Grace." Lucy struggled to keep her tone as cool as possible.

"I had no intention of doing so," he replied just as coolly. "I merely wished to clarify the nature of our arrangement."

"Then we are to be married, but as strangers?"

"Exactly," the duke replied, leaving no room for argument. "You shall have your own rooms, your own life as it were. I shall not interfere."

In her mind's eye, Lucy saw her future in blazes. She had known in the back of her mind that she might not get a love match. But she hoped that with time, whoever her partner was, they would learn to love each other. But as she stared at him, trying to decipher the man who stood before, she knew it would never happen. He was cold as ice.

He was handsome, undeniably, with his cropped dark hair that layered on his head in thick waves. His sensuous lips sent flashes of their moment of indiscretion flying about in her head.

His eyes were mayhap her favorite feature of him. They were the color of the clear skies in all its blue glory. But there was a hardness in them, one she could never penetrate.

"But, Your Grace, what if?—"

"This is the only condition for this union," he cut her coldly with no emotions whatsoever.

Lucy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she didn't miss the subtle threat. She had not expected a love match, but his coldness was more than she could bear.

"You expect me to enter into this arrangement without understanding your intentions?" Her frustrations mounted. "Without knowing why you?—"

"Enough, Miss Hatcher!" Duncan interrupted in a firm voice. "My reasons are my own. Suffice it to say, I am bound by duty, not desire."

A tense silence settled between them. Her hands trembled slightly as she struggled to process his words. She searched his face, hoping to find some semblance of warmth or compassion. But all she got was his impassiveness.

"I see," she finally said, her tone clipped. "Then, I suppose I should thank you again, Your Grace, for your sacrifice."

"I assure you, Miss Hatcher, the sacrifice is mutual." Lucy's head whipped up at the duke's words. Surely, he had no idea what he had just said or what he meant. Mayhap, she was reading too much into it. Yes, that had to be the case.

"The situation is far from ideal for either of us," Duncan continued, "but it is necessary. We must face it with as much grace and fortitude as we can muster."

The room fell silent once more, the weight of his words settling over her like a heavy cloak. "Very well then, Your Grace," Lucy said finally, her voice steadier than she felt. "I will do my duty. I accept your terms."

Duncan nodded, satisfied with her response. "I am glad we understand each other."

Lucy felt a pang of disappointment, though for the life of her, she could not say why. "Of course, Your Grace."

"Good. Now if that is all, I shall take my leave."

"Very well, Your Grace."

"I shall make the necessary arrangements as soon as possible. Thank you for your time. Good day." And with a curt nod, the duke turned around and left the room, leaving Lucy to her thoughts, his departure as abrupt as his arrival. She watched his retreating figure, her emotions an odd mix of gratitude, confusion, and a bludgeoning sense of injustice.

She tried to steady her racing heart. Why, she felt like she had just run the full length of Pemberton Hall. And all she had done was have a meeting with the Duke of Northwick.

It was barely a day since the night that turned her life upside down. But she felt like it had been a hundred years already. She felt weak and spent. The duke sure did know how to feed on one's energy. He was indeed an enigma, a man of apparent contradictions. His departure left her feeling relieved. And unsettled.

She could not imagine a house devoid of laughter and mutual companionship. That was all she had ever known. Life as a duchess was not so appealing and Lucy felt more apprehensive the more she thought about it.

Still, he had offered her salvation—his name and protection—yet he kept his own heart firmly locked away. It was a huge price to pay for security and stability. But it seemed she had paid in full. For all his arrogance and aloofness, she couldn't deny that there was something about him that intrigued her, something she could not quite place a finger on.

He was a mystery—one she was bound to, scarcely knew, yet oddly fascinated by—she was tempted to unravel. No. There was no point in doing that. It would lead to nowhere. And she doubted he would be happy about it.

She did her best to ignore every thought of him as she rejoined her family in their little parlor.

"Well, what is it, my dear? Pray, do tell." Her mother's anxious gaze met hers.

Lucy forced a smile. "It is nothing, Mama. Do not fret. The duke and I have come to an understanding as you well know." Her gaze darted to Caroline who scorched her with a knowing look.

"Wonderful! That is good news, my dear," Patience beamed, her joy evident. But Lucy's thoughts were far from joyous. She could not shake the feeling that her future, though secure, would be a lonely one. Oh, what a travesty that would be. She could no longer bear the heat of her sister's gaze and sought to flee.

"I shall be in my room, Mama."

"I shall be with you too, Lucy. Papa, Mama, please excuse us." Caroline waited not a moment longer and left with Lucy. Away from prying ears in the safety of the room, Caroline pounced on Lucy.

"Do not fret? Really? By the look on your face, you were more than fretting. And do not deny it."

"What would you have me do, Caroline? I have to do this," Lucy cried.

"This is killing you. I cannot bear to see you go through this," Caroline spurred on.

Truly, Lucy could not go through with it. She could not imagine living in a house with no love or laughter, at the very least. It was all she had ever known all her life. She couldn't begin to fathom life as a duchess. It was looking more grim by the moment.

"Tell me, what really happened? I know you are hiding something."

That was all the encouragement Lucy needed. "Oh, Caroline, what an arrogant man! The sheer audacity to declare ever so coolly that our marriage would be one of convenience. What does he take me for? A mere chess piece to be moved at his discretion?"

"What? He said that to you?" Caroline asked, aghast.

"He most certainly did. His arrogance is astounding!" The duke's words replayed in her mind, each one sharpening her growing ire. How dare he speak of duty and honor, as if those concepts excused his high-handedness? His presence had filled the room with an imposing certainty, a confidence that bordered on presumption. She did not like it one bit.

But his penetrating gaze, the way he looked at her, not with warmth but with a calculating coldness—it unnerved her. And it set her blood boiling. Why, he completely avoided her question, brushing it aside as if it were of no consequence.

The kiss…that kiss…it had shattered her completely, igniting a spark within her that she had never felt before. And yet, to him, it was merely a matter he did not wish to discuss.

"Are you sure about this, Lucy? This duke seems to be of unreputable manners."

Her sister was a good judge of character. But if only it were that easy. "There is not much I can do. This is our only way out."

But the more Lucy thought about it, the angrier she became. Had he not ignored her father as well, evading his handshake as if he were some leper? Of course, he was used to having his own way, accustomed to deference and obedience. But she was not a simpering debutante, ready to bow to his every whim, scandal be damned.

Arrogant he may be, but she would not be a passive participant in her own life. If he believed that this marriage would be a mere convenience, he was sorely mistaken. She would show him that she was more than just a convenient bride.

Oh, it was on.