Chapter 7

The gentle breeze carried the gentle melody of the river as Esther and William promenaded. Esther watched the vast expanse of the bank from under her parasol, lost in its mesmerizing rhythm over rocks and pebbles when William's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Is the river more captivating than conversing with a duke?" he teased.

Esther turned to face him. "You're not much of a conversationalist, Your Grace. What do fake couples like us talk about?"

William pursed his lips and nodded.

They continued their leisurely stroll, the sun casting a golden hue on the water, and painting the horizon in shades of amber and gold. As they walked side by side, Esther couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment.

"What does that make me in comparison… I wonder." She fidgeted with the parasol in her hand, her eyes drifting back to the river. "There are so many things we don't have words for. Couples that are not lovers, lovers that are not friends, and men that are unmarried."

"Does that bother you?"

"I mean, what is the male equivalent of a spinster?" she huffed exasperatedly. "There is no disadvantage to being an unmarried man at all!"

Esther became aware of William's intense gaze on her, and a flicker of unease stirred within her. It was as though his eyes bored into her soul, threatening to unravel the segments of her life she had harbored within.

Unable to withstand the scrutiny any longer, she turned to him with a forced smile, her voice tinged with frostiness. "Do you find something particularly intriguing about staring at me, Your Grace?"

William frowned at the sudden change in her demeanor. He matched her tone with a retort of his own. "Only as intriguing as watching the paint dry on my walls."

"So you do have a sense of humor, but it's just as dry as the paint on your walls."

William raised an eyebrow. "I was merely curious about what weighed on your mind. Perhaps you enjoy watching me in a bitter mood."

"And you enjoy prying into the affairs of others too much, Your Grace," she shot back, this time with a faux smile.

As Esther's words pierced the air with a hint of accusation, William's expression changed, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Ah, Lady Esther, I assure you, my intentions are purely noble. You talk with such sprite, it makes me wonder if you ever learned how to address?—"

"A grand man such as yourself? Yes, yes. I have heard that quite a bit," she huffed sarcastically. "You'd think someone so distinguished would have to keep reminding others of it."

I should speak in kind, but…

A sense of power surged within her as she watched the usually unflappable Duke rendered momentarily speechless by her words. It was intoxicating, a rush of exhilaration that made her pulse quicken and her heart race.

Perhaps there was a part of her that relished the challenge of unsettling the composed and self-assured Duke. It was a small rebellion.

Before she could revel in the moment further, William shook his head, his expression serious as he redirected the conversation.

"It's time we discussed the specifics of our arrangement," he began, his tone firm and businesslike. "We need to ensure that our courtship appears genuine to the outside world."

Esther nodded, a sense of determination settling over her as she focused on the task at hand. She wanted him to know she could be serious if she so desired. "Of course. Word has already spread like wildfire in the ton."

"Esther," William began, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of regret. "From this moment, we will follow the path I set. This courtship may be your idea, but I cannot afford to follow your whims."

She forced herself to push aside her misgivings. She hated giving up control and autonomy, but he did have a point, given her reputation.

"Very well, Your Grace," Esther replied with resignation. "As long as our goals are aligned and we both benefit from this arrangement, I have no objections."

There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of no room left for argument on that fact. In the end, he was a duke, and he was probably only used to listening to himself.

"We should establish some ground rules for our courtship," William began.

"Ground rules?" she echoed. "Are you going to assign me tasks like one of my old governesses?"

William's expression held a flicker of irritation. "Your old governesses seem to have done a poor job, if I may say so."

"And I suppose you think you can do better?" she shot back.

Seeing William's jaw clench made her regret her words immediately.

"Fine… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to listen… this once," she relented.

"You suppose? Still?" William sighed. "It doesn't matter. First, no more spontaneity."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Esther, what you did when I came to seek permission to court you was not amusing in the slightest," he scolded her. "It could've all ended before it even began had I not come up with the flattery that, frankly, I'm sure sounded absolutely ludicrous to your father."

She chuckled at how agitated he sounded. "Your words were sweet, though, I must admit. Oh, if only someone truly thought my outlandish nature admirable."

"Secondly," he grunted, "we need to do something about these prying eyes. My family is already suspicious of the hasty announcement. My sisters know me very well… we ought to make sure to assuage their doubts."

"Right. Your sisters…"

William took a deep breath. "I told them that we might become engaged."

"Engagement? Wait, what?" She blinked in confusion.

"My family has been hard to persuade, so I wanted to make sure they believed how serious I was about courting you. I told them to expect an engagement party, although I haven't said when it will be held."

Esther stilled for a moment at the sudden announcement, a flicker of nervousness creeping into her expression. "Soon?" she echoed. "But… isn't that a bit abrupt?"

"It will happen sooner or later. It is better to nip this at the bud."

"William!" she hissed. "We need a plan! If we don't handle this as delicately as we should we could end up in a scandal."

"I thought that was what you wanted."

"No!" she cried out. "What I want is for no man to approach me after this. But I will not stand for your reputation to get carelessly ruined because of me."

William nodded. "I understand your concerns. But you don't have to worry. My standing in Society is not something that could get easily ruined. I shall not allow it! We will both get what we want by the end of this ruse, I promise."

Esther bit her lip, a sense of unease settling over her as she contemplated the implications of his hasty decision. "I suppose you're right. It's just… all happening so suddenly."

Though she trusted William's judgment, the thought of their engagement party possibly being just around the corner filled her with a sense of trepidation. People will see her with the Duke… She could only think of the pressure it would put on William.

"You have nothing to worry about, I'm right here." William's voice was surprisingly reassuring.

"I suppose it will make a convincing story to tell." She nodded.

"I love my family," he continued, "and I'd hate to see them heartbroken over this. As a matter of fact, I would not want to tarnish your reputation either, so the more amicably it ends, the better."

She didn't quite understand.

"When the ton realizes how serious I intend to be with you, it might make the right people take you seriously as well," he said softly. "All the wrong men will keep their distance in fear of upsetting me, and most of my company are those with honest hearts. It'll do you good. You might even find someone before we get engaged."

"And what if I don't? And we have an engagement that will eventually end. Then what?"

William opened his mouth to say something, but it was clear he hadn't considered the possibility of having cornered them into the failed engagement. The likelihood of getting proposals would go down significantly after that.

In a loveless world of contracts and superficial benefits, that was exactly what she wanted. It was safe to say that she had given up hope on the concept of love, and being a spinster suited her ideals better.

"I'll become undesirable," she mumbled. "I want that."

William narrowed his eyes as he took a step closer. "Pardon me?"

"I want that. That is my plan, Your Grace." She smiled, unrestrained and unabashed.

She wanted to look confident while saying it. She was smiling because this would be the final nail in the coffin and because there was no turning back after this. She didn't want to regret her choices.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I want to be considered unfit to be a bride. I'll be considered ruined, and no one will marry me," she spoke with conviction.

As Esther's words hung in the air, a heavy silence descended between them, punctuated only by the gentle sound of the rushing water. William's brow furrowed in concern at the revelation.

"Ruining your reputation is what you want?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "And why would you desire such a thing?"

"Because," she replied, her voice steady yet tinged with a hint of defiance, "I suppose I don't want to marry at all. I want to be free to live my life on my own terms."

Because no one will have the power to hurt or restrain me with justification.

"But to be considered ruined… that's a heavy price to pay, Esther," he insisted with concern. "Surely there must be another way for you to find the freedom you seek."

Esther shook her head, her resolve unwavering. "There isn't. This is the only way I see to escape."

William was taken aback by her determination as he struggled to comprehend her reasoning.

"Esther," he tried with a tone of reason, "I understand your unhappiness, but this isn't the answer. To be considered unmarriageable…"

Esther shook her head. "Right before the engagement party, we'll call it off."

"But I do not understand why. I'm just…"

Esther remained resolute.

"I appreciate your concern, Your Grace," she replied, "but this is a decision I've made for myself. And I'm prepared to face the consequences, whatever they may be."

"Fine." William crossed his arms. "We'll call it off before the engagement party. And… one last thing."

As the weight of their conversation hung heavy in the air, William's gaze darkened, a flicker of intensity sparking in his eyes as he stepped closer to her, his voice low and filled with a steely resolve.

"Third rule," he said exasperatedly, "no matter what happens, Esther, you are not to go around fraternizing unchaperoned."

"Lovely," she grumbled. "You're already acting like my husband."

"Please take my words seriously," he said curtly. "Had it been someone else other than myself in that bedroom at the Season's first ball, I doubt you would've gotten away unscathed."

Esther said nothing because she knew he was right. She knew from firsthand experience how men could be when alone with unsuspecting women.

"And one last rule, Esther," he murmured as he grabbed her wrist, tugging on it to turn her around. She looked up at him from beneath fluttering eyelashes, her face sour, and it was evident that he was trying to remain as firm as possible.

"If you fail to comply with my wishes," he growled, "there will be punishment."

Her breath caught in her throat as he closed the distance between them, the sudden proximity making her face warm. Despite the tension crackling in the air, defiance sparked in her heart.

"Oh, and what might that punishment be, Your Grace? Banishment from high society? A scathing exposé in the scandal sheets? Or perhaps something more… personal?"

William's jaw clenched slightly at her taunt, his resolve hardening as he fought to maintain control of the situation. "You would do well not to test me, Esther," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "You push me far enough as it is with your sharp tongue."

Esther's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "But what will you do, Your Grace?"

Much to her surprise, he stepped even closer until she could feel the heat radiate off him. Her heart stuttered at the desire in his eyes that clashed with the annoyance on his lips. She looked away and around in worry of getting caught like that, but everyone else was too far away to see them. They were too far away to care.

"Do you know what's worse than inflicting harm, Esther?" he whispered, his breath fanning her face. "To withhold something that another wants desperately."

"There's no such thing I want that could?—"

William abruptly steered her towards a secluded area, his movements deliberate and purposeful. And then, in a sudden bold move, he pressed her against a sturdy tree, his body pinning hers in a tantalizing embrace out of her chaperone's lazy sight.

Esther's words died in her throat. She felt the solid bark against her back, the heat of William's body seeping into her skin. Her heart raced with anticipation as he closed the distance between them, his smirk betraying the intensity of his desire.

"You may think you want to be alone and live a life of solitude," he whispered, his lips only a hair's breadth away from hers, "but we have needs, Esther. We're human. What would you do if I was the only one who could satisfy your needs, with the intensity only I could offer?"

She gasped, realizing that she'd stupidly fallen right into a trap set by her own desires. Esther couldn't even dream of kissing anyone else but William, though she hoped that would change with time.

But if he were to be even more passionate than before, unrestrained in his desire… she feared she would compare the next man to him forever and remain unsatisfied.

William's lips crashed against hers in a fierce, passionate kiss, igniting a firestorm of longing that consumed them both. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with a desperate hunger. His mouth, though soft, moved roughly against hers, and she tasted peppermint on her tongue, and something else. Something uniquely his.

Their bodies pressed together in a heated embrace, each touch sending a shiver down to her core, making her throb in places she didn't even know she could feel. William's hand trailed up her neck, pressing lightly as it slid behind her head, his fingers entangling in her locks as he groaned in her mouth. She could feel his other hand snaking around her waist to pull her even closer. She could feel him, every inch of his muscular figure, and wanted to become one with him in some way. Any way.

At that moment, as they surrendered to the overwhelming heat of their connection, their hearts beat as one in a symphony of longing and ecstasy. And as they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed with desire, the air was thick with the promise of what was to come, a sizzling tension that lingered between them like a smoldering ember.

Esther's chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her heavy breaths, her gaze locking with William's. The sunlight danced on his features, casting a golden glow that accentuated the contours of his face, rendering him even more captivating in her eyes.

As their breaths slowed and their gazes remained locked, William's features softened.

"Have I made myself clear, Lady Esther?" he asked.

Though defiant, she certainly understood now and could only hope to forget this moment if she were to ever make peace of a life without the kind of kisses that he gave her.

"By your logic," she said breathlessly, "your punishment, it… it would be withholding?—"

He kissed her again, and the mewl that escaped her lips was so embarrassing that she wanted to melt into the ground and disappear. She wished she had more control over the pleasure she felt.

"I'll tell you one thing," he whispered against her lips. "It would be as much a punishment for me as it would be for you." He pulled away, panting for breath as their noses brushed. "Don't make me keep away from you, Esther."

* * *

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over Harcourt Manor, William's thoughts were consumed by the memory of the kiss he had shared with Esther.

It was a little amusing to him now, how he'd lost control of himself again. There was no rationality in him back then.

As he strode through the grand halls of his manor, his mind raced with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, there was a lingering sense of guilt for succumbing to the forbidden temptation of his desires. Yet, on the other hand, there was a spark of exhilaration, a sense of liberation that came with defying the conventions that had bound him for so long.

Was this what she felt? This solace?

"Your Grace, welcome back." George rushed to him, with the other staff following behind. He helped him out of his coat, and then William walked towards the dining room.

"Fetch me chamomile tea tonight," William instructed. "I might need it if the ladies think to argue with me again."

As he entered the dining room, the warm glow of the candlelight illuminated the elegant table where his mother and Marina were already seated, enjoying their supper.

"Good evening, Mother, Marina," William greeted politely.

"Good evening, William," his mother replied, sounding reserved still since the conversation regarding Esther. "How was your day?"

"Nothing too eventful," he said, matching her conservative tone. "Where are the twins?"

"They have already eaten," Marina answered with an unreadable expression.

Dorothea cleared her throat and tried to embody a more lighthearted disposition as she clasped her hands together. "William, I'm delighted to inform you that both Marina and Juliet have been receiving attention from very promising suitors. Richard Dowding, the Baron Paddington, has shown particular interest in Juliet once again, and other inquiries about Marina have been quite encouraging. I'd appreciate it if you could make some time for the gentlemen."

"The Baron Paddington, you say?" William nodded appreciatively. "He is indeed an esteemed gentleman," he remarked thoughtfully, considering the implications of such an alliance. "Although," he muttered under his breath as he remembered their first encounter, "he talks too much."

Marina, sitting beside her mother, offered her assent. "I concur, Mother. Lord Paddington has a reputation that precedes him. He might be of a lower station, but at least he is respectable."

"I will certainly give it a thought," William responded.

"Yes, William is busy with his personal affairs right now, as it would appear," Marina spoke, a cutting edge to her usual soft voice.

"Marina, I'm right here." He sighed exasperatedly. "You can talk to me directly. Don't burden Mother to be your messenger."

"Mother, would you inform my brother of the rumors I just heard about Lady Esther? I fear he would not want to hear from me directly on this matter."

William rubbed the bridge of his nose as he fell back into his chair. "Elaborate," he urged firmly. "What exactly are these rumors?"

Dorothea exchanged a cautious glance with Marina before speaking. "Well, she has quite a fancy for hard liquor," she began tentatively. "Others claim she is involved in gambling dens. Why, Lady Galpin saw Lady Esther leaving one only a fortnight ago."

"And what was Lady Galpin doing near a gambling den?" he inquired sarcastically. "Perhaps I should worry about my investments with Lord Galpin."

That seemed to silence his mother, as she looked down at her supper and resumed eating, with no more to say.

Marina nodded in agreement, echoing her mother's unease. "Some believe she's a fortune hunter, preying on unsuspecting gentlemen. I suppose it makes it easier for her to do so as an unmarried woman with no real prospects."

A flicker of disappointment flashed across William's features as he listened to the outlandish rumors about Esther. Though he had hoped for a more rational explanation, the baseless accusations only deepened his frustration.

"It's disheartening to see how easily people are swayed by idle gossip," he said. "Surely, you both know better than to judge someone based on hearsay alone."

Dorothea's voice took on a sharper edge as she reentered the conversation. "And let's not forget her family. That woman's mother had no shame trying to inject herself between me and every gentleman who tried to court me. Deliberately!"

"Mother's right," Marina interjected, continuing to dip her bread in more soup. "The Arnold family has recently become a questionable lot, with rumors of scandal and impropriety following Lady Esther wherever she goes."

"Enough!" William snapped and dropped his fork on the table, making them jump. "I will not tolerate such baseless accusations against Lady Esther or her family any longer. Did I not mention that last time? Why am I repeating myself?"

Dorothea and Marina both recoiled at the forcefulness of his words, their expressions shifting from defiance to shock. They had not expected such a strong reaction from him and were rendered speechless by his unwavering resolve.

"I may not know the truth of these rumors," William continued, his voice softening slightly, "but I refuse to let gossip and hearsay cloud my judgment. Lady Esther is a woman of integrity, from what I've personally witnessed, and I will not allow her character to be slandered in this manner."

With that, he rose from his seat, his gaze unwavering as he met the eyes of his mother and sister. "I trust you will both refrain from participating in circulating gossip. I expected better from you both. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to."

And with that, he left the dining room with thoughts of his own behavior. Never before had he gotten so protective of another person. He wondered why was he doing this. He was lying to them, but he didn't feel guilty. He didn't understand at all why it bothered him when anyone spoke ill of Esther.

And that is when he feared the worst, that he might like Esther more than he should allow himself to.