Chapter 2

What an absolute brute of a man!

The Duke had left shortly after Felicity had accepted his ridiculous terms, and she had hardly managed to make proper conversation with her mother before fleeing to her room, where she had spent the rest of the day.

"He wants nothing more from me than to take care of his little brother! Gah!"

The frustrated words escaped her lips, and bile rose in her throat. It was not the thought of the boy that bothered her, however. It was the stoic manner in which the Duke had claimed no interest in love or partnership. It was the cold manner in which he looked at her, the barely veiled condescension when he told her how easy it would be to find another match if she were not interested.

She couldn't do it.

Fear squeezed her heart with a steely grip, and she jumped to her feet, her entire body trembling. She couldn't do it.

"I can't…"

The words escaped her lips in a mere whisper, and she shook her head, tears starting to fall from her eyes. She could not allow herself to be forced into a life with that man. She could not—no, would not do it.

There was only one solution. Only one.

Felicity's hands shook as she rushed to the cupboard, moving without truly being aware of her actions. A bag. Some clothes. A notebook and quill. Money… she would need money.

Money for what?

It made absolutely no sense, and she knelt down on the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. She needed to run away. But where would she go? How did one run away? She was not quite certain, but she knew that she had no choice. She needed to get away, she would not marry that man.

A knock on her door made her freeze, and she took a deep breath. The bag. She needed to hide the bag. If the servants told her mother… She shook her head quickly at the thought and pushed the bag under her bed before quickly patting her hair down and taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

"Enter."

She waited silently and took a deep breath as the door slowly swung open. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the frail figure entering her bedchamber.

Tabitha.

"Oh, Felicity…"

Tabitha's voice was soft, and Felicity watched as her younger sister moved to sit down on the bed next to her.

Tabitha had always been beautiful—strikingly so—and as she sat in the dusky room, her frailty was even more pronounced. Her face was pale, her eyes a shocking shade of green, and her golden hair gave her the appearance of an angelic being. She was beautiful and vulnerable—and so very young.

Tears formed in Tabitha's eyes as she looked up at Felicity. "Oh, Felicity…"

She knew. The realization hit Felicity as she looked down at her younger sister, and she shook her head. "No, Tabitha. You cannot know… it is not possible."

"But I do know," Tabitha insisted softly. "I know everyone tries to protect me. Poor Tabitha, they say. She is far too frail to know the awful realities of life, and you try to shield me… and I am grateful, Felicity, but the servants talk. And I know…"

She looked down, and when she looked back up, her brow was creased. "I know about this sacrifice, Felicity. I know that… if you did not do this, we would fall out of favor with everyone in the ton. We would be a laughingstock, outcasts… and I would never debut, never find a husband… And even if I did find a husband, it would be some cruel peasant who would never give me a proper life, and perhaps he would not even like me, and he'd hurt me…"

A stifled sob escaped Tabitha's lips, and she shook her head. "Papa's debt would ruin us… would ruin me, and my future… if it were not for you."

Felicity lowered her head and released a huff of air from her lips. When she looked back at her sister, both of them had tears in their eyes. She looked up, her eyes wide.

"Without this sacrifice, I may have been forced to marry a brute or a peasant… I have heard horrible stories of women who entered unfortunate marriages." Tabitha wiped a tear from her eyes and shook her head. "Or I may not have married at all. Who knows what would have happened to me then? I'd have been… a spinster." A wail nearly escaped her lips at this, but she quickly shook her head and forced a small smile on her face.

"I am so thankful for you, Felicity," Tabitha whispered before taking her sister's hand in her own. "I love you so. You truly are the best sister in the entire world, I am convinced of that. I will be grateful until I die."

Felicity squeezed her sister's hand before forcing herself to smile. "Oh, Tabitha, you know that I will do anything for you. I love you, too, my darling sister."

It was her smile along with the comforting words that allowed the tears to disappear from Tabitha's face, and a radiant smile spread out across her sister's face.

"Do tell me about the Duke! What is he like? Is he kind? The servants claim that he is rather handsome. Is he?"

"Oh, yes." Felicity forced the idea of escaping, running off, and being free out of her mind, and a large—albeit false—smile appeared on her face. "He is handsome—incredibly so. And… He has a lovely voice." She laughed, but even to her own ears, it sounded shrill and woefully wrong. "It sounds like… coarse gravel, I think."

"Coarse gravel?" Tabitha scrunched her nose and shook her head. "That does not sound very attractive to me. Are you certain he is a man of nobility?"

"He is a duke," Felicity said with a small smile.

"Oh, I don't know, Felicity." Tabitha shook her head. "A voice like gravel? That sounds positively horrid and rough… like a brute."

"No." Felicity laughed once more, reaching out to tap her sister's knee. "He sounds… strong and tough. Like the kind of man who would be able to protect his wife."

"Oh!' Tabitha's eyes lit up at this. "That sounds lovely, does it not? A man who could protect you… It is beautiful. Is that not what we all want?"

Felicity's heart ached at this statement, and yet, she nodded slowly. Sure, she believed that Tabitha wanted that—a man who could protect her. But Felicity wanted far more than a gravelly-voiced duke who could protect her. She wanted a partner, she wanted a friend, she wanted someone who adored her—someone she could adore. She wanted love, a life filled with laughter.

"Yes," she agreed despite herself. "It is what we all want."

"Tell me more!" Tabitha was now wide-eyed and eager to hear more about the Duke.

Felicity laughed softly. "Well, he…" The lie burned her lips, and yet she managed to utter it. "He is simply wonderful, Tabitha. I am so very blessed."

Tabitha wrapped an arm around her sister and laid her head on her shoulder. "I will miss you so much, Felicity, once you are married. But I am going to visit you so very often, and oh… you will make the most beautiful bride. You are going to be so happy!"

Felicity smiled wryly as she hugged her sister back, blinking back tears. "I am," she agreed softly. "I am certainly going to be very happy."

This was it, Felicity realized as she sat on the bed with her sister. The bag under the bed would be unpacked once Tabitha left, only to be repacked within mere weeks. She would not run away, but she would move—move into the manor of a man who would make it no secret that he had absolutely no interest in having her there.

She would do it, and she would never show anyone how difficult it was.

She would pretend—she would make this sacrifice. And she would do it for Tabitha.

Where he sat behind his desk, Aiden Kingsman scowled before bringing the goblet filled with red wine to his lips and took a large gulp.

Lady Felicity Pike was certainly not what he'd expected. She was fiery—he hoped that it would not prove to be a problem. He had hoped for a demure young woman, one who could be plied into being the perfect wife and mother—a good example for Marcus. Lady Felicity, however, seemed as though she would speak her mind.

He lifted the goblet to his lips again, and the liquid burned a path down his throat.

Great. A wife who would fill his world with endless chatter.

"Who does not need that?"

The aimless question reverberated through the empty room, and he shook his head. Perhaps she'd talk less once they were married.

Aiden sighed and took another sip of his wine. He did not care much for people who spoke their minds. It was rather indelicate.

A knock on the door made him look up, and he put the goblet down with a clang. "Yes?"

The door swung open slowly, and Aiden watched as Sebastian, his solicitor, moved inside. The thin man, who was stuck in a wheelchair, had a shock of white hair atop his head.

"Your Grace, I come to hear how the meeting with Lady Pike was."

"Yes." Aiden looked up with a wry smile. "It was decent. She seems a proper lady. We will marry in a fortnight."

"Marry in a fortnight? Your Grace, are…"

The older man looked shocked, and Aiden lifted a brow. He had not made a secret of his plans to marry, and as such, he was not quite sure why Sebastian found it so shocking.

"Are you certain, Your Grace?" Sebastian continued, and Aiden shifted in his chair.

"I am certain, Sebastian. Where is this coming from?"

"Your Grace, I am merely… concerned," Sebastian said, a crease forming between his brows. "It is rather sudden. You made the mistake—if you will forgive me for saying so—on a whim, and now suddenly there is a wedding in sight? Is this lady even one that you are willing to build a life with? Is she a woman you could grow to care for?"

"Sebastian, please." Aiden's voice was firm. "You know as well as I do that I do not have time—or the patience if I am being honest—for things like that. It will be a marriage of convenience, nothing more."

"Your Grace, I implore you…" Sebastian sounded truly concerned, and it was for this reason that Aiden allowed him to speak freely. "Please, do not shut love—or the possibility thereof—out of your life merely because you are hasty."

Aiden frowned. "What do you mean?"

A concerned smile appeared on Sebastian's face. "I merely mean, Your Grace, that perhaps it is prudent to wait… You could still meet someone you could fall in love with."

"Ha!" Aiden shook his head with a grimace. "I am not interested."

"But, Your Grace—"

Aiden shook his head, his lips twisted in a scowl. "Thank you, Sebastian. That will be all."

"Your Grace…"

Sebastian's brow was furrowed in concern, but Aiden shook his head firmly, his jaw set. "That will be all, Sebastian. You are excused."

"Your Grace." Sebastian nodded curtly before walking out, and Aiden leaned back in his chair with a deep sigh.

Please, do not shut love—or the possibility thereof—out of your life…

Little could Sebastian know that it was exactly why he was doing this. Never in a lifetime would he allow a woman he cared for to be forced to endure a life with him.