Chapter 5

The pale light of dawn had barely begun to filter through the bedroom curtains when a discreet rapping sounded at Harriet"s door, jolting her from the fitful slumber she"d only just managed to slip into. Blinking blearily, she pushed upright with a wince, her head pounding from the previous night"s emotional upheaval and lack of restful sleep.

"Come in," she called out, her voice still husky with fatigue.

The door creaked open to reveal Prudence, their housemaid, hovering in the corridor with an apologetic look on her round face. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but there"s a gentleman caller insisting on seeing you straightaway."

Harriet frowned, puzzled. At this dreadfully early hour? And who on earth would--

The realization struck her like a physical blow, effectively snapping her into full wakefulness. Of course. He"d wasted no time at all, the arrogant Scot.

Tamping down the potent brew of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her at the mere thought of him, Harriet nodded to the maid with as much poise as she could muster.

"Very well, have him shown into the morning room. I shall join him presently."

As the door clicked shut once more, she flung aside the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her hands trembled faintly as she fumbled to secure the sash of her dressing robe, unruly curls escaping their pins to tumble in a riot of brown waves around her face.

Why would he arrive at this ghastly hour? Harriet wondered as she hurried through the motions of preparing herself to receive him. She was quite certain that he was not that eager to propose to her. In fact, she was certain that it was no more than an aggravating task for him as well. One would think the man could wait until noon to call upon her.

By the time she swept into the morning room mere minutes later, she"d managed to compose herself into an outward facade of unruffled serenity despite her pounding heart. The sight of him standing at the tall windows, however, hands braced on the sill as he gazed out over the sculpted hedgerows, instantly shredded the fragile mask.

His shoulders seemed to take up more space than should be allotted, the powerful line of his back tapering down in an unmistakable vee that hinted at the virile strength coiled just beneath those impeccable clothes. Harriet"s breath caught in her throat, an unwelcome flush of warmth heating her cheeks as unbidden thoughts of how that broad expanse would feel beneath her palms flooded her mind.

Clearing her throat to dispel the unsettling images, she lifted her chin in a silent demand for acknowledgment. "Your Grace. To what do I owe this... unexpectedly early call?"

Hugh turned slowly, his expression unreadable as those piercing green eyes settled on her with inscrutable intensity. There was a heavy pause as he simply regarded her in that discomfiting, assessing way of his. Just as the silence verged on becoming unbearable, he spoke.

"I thought it best we settle matters as soon as possible," he rumbled in that deep, impossibly grave timbre that seemed to vibrate through her very core. "Before tongues begin waggin" even more viciously."

"Settle matters?" Harriet echoed before she could quite catch herself. She rallied quickly, any trace of weakness buttressed by a sudden surge of pique. "How dreadfully pragmatic of you, Your Grace, to address the topic of my utter ruination with such mercenary calculus."

He didn"t so much as flinch at her acerbic tone, merely holding her fiery gaze with unblinking equanimity. Maddening, how she couldn"t seem to ruffle him no matter how barbed her rejoinders.

"Hardly me intent to be glib, lass," he countered, a muscle ticking in his clenched jaw. "We both know there"s only one path forward that preserves what"s left of yer reputation."

Comprehension dawned with a sickening lurch in the pit of her stomach. Of course. The inevitable reason for his presence, stated so boldly she could scarcely breathe around the lump of dread constricting her throat.

"So my brother has already called upon you with his scheme, has he?" she bit out, anger swiftly overshadowing her other turbulent emotions. "How very kind of you both to decide my future without so much as a courtesy discussion!"

Hugh"s brow creased in a frustrated scowl at her harsh accusation. "Heavens, lass, this is nae merely some scheme to ensnare ye! I"m only here with the noblest of..."

A harsh bark of derisive laughter burst from Harriet before she could rein it in. "Noble? You and William both, always insisting your intentions are above reproach! But where does a woman"s agency factor into all of this nobility, I ask you? Or am I simply expected to meekly accept whatever path is dictated to me regardless of my own desires?"

Silence swelled in the wake of her outburst, thick and fraught with unnamed tensions. Hugh stared at her, lips compressed into a flat line, and for a fleeting instant Harriet could have sworn she glimpsed a flash of...remorse in those fathomless eyes? But then his expression shuttered once more into that impenetrable mask of stoicism.

"I came here expectin" a rational discussion about our circumstances, nae to be greeted with such hostility and accusations of ill intent," Hugh ground out, his jaw tensing visibly.

Harriet scoffed, anger and indignation lending her a reckless boldness in the face of his chastisement. "A rational discussion?" she echoed scathingly. "You speak of rationality as though my life, my future was little more than a mere mathematical equation to be solved with cold pragmatism!"

She took a defiant step towards him, chin lifted in open challenge. "Well I"ll not have it, Your Grace! I reject your lofty rationale, your insistence that I simply resign myself to being yet another chess piece maneuvered across the playing board of society"s whims!"

Hugh"s jaw worked furiously as he struggled to reign in his temper, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. When he spoke again, his words were clipped, precise incisions that sliced through the charged air between them. "Then pray tell, Lady Harriet, what would ye have me do? Stand idly by as yer reputation crumbles to ash thanks to a misfortunate series of circumstances? Because make nay mistake, the ton will show ye nay mercy in light of what transpired, nay matter how blameless yer actions may have been."

"And you presume to solve everything by shackling me to a man I hardly know?" Harriet shot back without missing a beat. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but that seems an awfully drastic remedy for wounded propriety, does it not?"

"It"s the only blasted path left to ye that preserves any shred of dignity!" Hugh snarled, his carefully cultivated composure shattering in an explosive outburst of Scottish temper. "If ye turn me away now, ye consign yerself to a life of destitution and scorn, untouchable in the eyes of the whole blasted ton! Is that what ye want, foolish lass? To be a cast-off, a ruined woman doomed to walk in shame for the rest of yer days?"

The naked anguish writ across Hugh"s noble features gave Harriet pause, her breath hitching at the visceral potency of his words. For an endless, suspended moment, she could only gape at him as the terrible reality he painted bore down upon her in waves of breathless dismay. Then, as abruptly as his composure had slipped, it snapped back into place—a brittle, impenetrable mask that closed off his expression once more.

"Well?" Hugh"s terse prompt sliced through her reverie, his tone hardening with impatience. "I am afraid I daenae have all day, lass... will ye marry me or nae?"

A frown immediately settled between Harriet's brows at his abrupt question and she crossed her arms over her chest. "No."

The single, succinct syllable seemed to ricochet through the air between them with shocking potency. Hugh stared at her, eyes widening fractionally in what Harriet could only interpret as dumbfounded surprise. She watched as myriad micro-expressions flickered across his chiseled features—shock, consternation, displeasure...until at last his eyes narrowed in a bemused glower directed at her as though she were some inscrutable riddle.

"Nay?" he echoed in a low growl that somehow still managed to roll with that lilting brogue.

"Not if you ask me like that, I won't," Harriet clarified, lifting her chin proudly. "I may have considered it. But not if you make your proposal in such an impetuous, nay, downright demanding manner as you have, Your Grace."

Hugh gaped at her, speechless for one of the few times in all their encounters. Harriet couldn"t resist the small, vindicated smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as she drove the point home ruthlessly.

"If you persist in treating me as though I am something to be bent and shaped to your will through blustering intimidation, then no—I reject your offer resolutely. But if, perchance, you find it within yourself to extend the same gallantry and goodwill to me as I"ve witnessed you extend to others, and make your request as an earnest appeal rather than a mere formality...then perhaps I shall reconsider."

Her smile deepened fractionally at the sheer, unadulterated bewilderment written across Hugh"s features—a rare chink in his infuriatingly inscrutable armor. A bloom of smug satisfaction unfurled within her breast at having so thoroughly confounded the unflappable Scot. To her utter astonishment, he shook his head slowly as a rueful chuckle built in his throat.

"Well played, me lady," he rumbled in rich tones laced with reluctant admiration. Straightening to his full, towering height, he shot her a look that made her breath catch in her throat. "It seems I"ve underestimated ye yet again. But rest assured...I shallnae be makin" that mistake twice."

With that, he inclined his head in a final, lingering acknowledgment before turning on his heel and striding from the room, leaving Harriet gaping in his wake, all her bravado drained as a sudden, unsettling sense of trepidation washed through her.

The door had scarcely closed behind Hugh before it was flung open once more, this time admitting a furious-looking William. His face was mottled with rage, eyes flashing dangerously as they bored into Harriet.

"What in heaven's name did you do?" he bit out through gritted teeth, advancing on her with quick, agitated strides.

Harriet stiffened instinctively, lifting her chin in silent defiance even as a sliver of trepidation skittered down her spine. "I did nothing more than speak my mind plainly," she countered, tamping down the frisson of unease that bloomed as her brother closed the distance between them.

William"s laugh was a harsh, derisive bark utterly devoid of mirth. "Your mind?" he echoed scathingly. "More like your cursed tongue ran away with you yet again, as per usual."

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again just as quickly, watching her brother's seething temper come to a boil. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to secure an audience with His Grace? The sheer delicacy and discretion required to broach such a matter without rousing suspicion before the proper overtures could even be made?"

His eyes bore into her, glittering shards of recrimination that pierced straight through her attempted bravado.

"Don"t you see what you"ve done?" he demanded, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. "With the Duke"s backing, we might have salvaged enough propriety to remain untainted by scandal. But now?" His laugh was bitter, brittle. "With him walking away, our fates are sealed. We"re utterly ruined, Harriet. Ruined! All because you are selfish and foolish!"

She stared at him aghast, dismay rooting her to the spot as the full gravity of her actions crystallized before her. Her righteous indignation evaporated in an instant, leaving a hollow, sinking terror in its wake. She"d rebuffed him all right—rebuffed and scorned him for his lack of propriety. And in the process, she may very well have sealed her ultimate ruin.

"I do not have to listen to this," she exploded, turning away and rushing to her bedchamber - her heart racing wildly in her chest as worry threatened to consume her. Tears formed in her eyes and slowly trailed paths down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself.

William may be right, she feared now. Perhaps she was indeed a selfish fool.

As her cries slowly ebbed into shuddering exhalations, Harriet could admit one unfortunate truth: Hugh, the Duke of Frighton well and truly had gotten under her skin in a way no other had ever managed before.