Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

L ouise took a few minutes to gather herself before leaving the study.

Moving to the mirror above the fireplace, she checked that she was not overly flushed and that her hair was still neatly pinned to her head. The memory of the Duke’s fingers moving through the loose strands haunted her as she set the ribbon back in place. She shivered as she thought of how close he had been, his hot body pressed against hers.

The only other man who had come so close to her before was Lord Fortescue, and that experience had filled her with revulsion. But the same could not be said about the Duke. His smoldering gaze, partially obscured behind the wolf mask, had been menacing and thrilling all at once. It surprised her how much the danger in his countenance excited her.

She turned her back to the mirror, straightened her gown, and prepared to return to the ballroom. Before she did so, however, she looked once more around the room. It was the neatest study she had ever seen. Every item on the desk looked like it had been measured to fit. Nothing was out of place—just like the Duke himself.

Nervously, she moved to the door. They had been alone in the study for many minutes, and she was concerned that she would emerge to yet more gossip about her conduct.

When she stepped back into the main ballroom, a few curious eyes followed her as before, but her absence did not appear to have been noticed.

The tall form of the Duke was on the opposite side of the room. He was speaking to a man wearing a bull mask, and he looked entirely at ease.

A new dance set was in full swing. Bright, sparkling masks glittered in the candlelight in the center of the room. It was a jarring picture after the quiet, pulsing heat of the study.

The room was uncomfortably hot, and the reality of what her father had agreed to weighed heavily on her shoulders. Louise glanced around the room in search of her mother and spotted her beside the refreshments table. She paused, watching Lady Northbridge’s quiet stillness. An intense feeling of sadness filled her at the sight.

Her mother was lonely in so many ways and rarely happy. She looked lost, like a friendless child in a playground. Louise quickly headed toward her, noting the relief that filled her mother’s eyes when she spotted her.

“Is all well?” Lady Northbridge asked hurriedly. “I was worried.”

Louise pulled her mother to a more secluded corner, pretending she needed her to help with a button on her dress to avoid attracting attention.

“Papa has promised me to the Duke,” she stated simply, carefully watching for her mother’s reaction.

Lady Northbridge’s eyes widened, and Louise was relieved to note that the news seemed to come as a shock to her.

“What on earth do you mean?” her mother asked darkly. “You cannot be promised to him. That is quite impossible.”

“I am not mistaken, Mama.”

“You must be,” Lady Northbridge insisted quietly. “Your father does not intend for you to become the Duke’s mistress, surely!” Her fingers fumbled with her skirts, her eyes darting around the room as though searching for an escape.

“Not quite.” Louise placed a hasty hand on her arm. “The Duke intends to marry me, or so he says.”

Lady Northbridge stilled and looked back at her, a change coming over her that made Louise’s heart sink a little.

“Marriage?”

“Yes. The Duke believes that Papa had something to do with Lord Marcus’s disappearance, though I have no notion as to how he came to that conclusion. I believe the deal for my hand is a way to manipulate Father into revealing the truth.”

The music seemed louder suddenly, the noise of the crowd dimming as Lady Northbridge’s gaze remained fixed on the Duke. Her eyes followed him as he walked around the room and spoke to some of his acquaintances. There was something in her gaze that Louise struggled to read—a new light she had not seen before.

Her mother took her arm and walked back toward the dance floor. “I confess, that changes things,” she whispered. “Are you certain his intentions are honorable? I will not give my only daughter to a man who would defile her.”

“It seems so. He said we would be married ‘without delay.’ I believe he intends for us to marry in haste.”

They stopped, and Lady Northbridge turned to Louise, the same tension in her eyes as she held Louise’s hand.

“I know this must be a shock to you, dearest, but there are worse fates in this life, believe me. This will give you a chance to get away from your father for good.”

Louise sucked in a sharp breath at that.

“I know you were close to Lord Marcus and you wish to know what has become of him. Perhaps this is the way. At least you know the Duke’s family is well-connected and well-liked. He may not be his brother, but he cannot be that bad.”

“He is nothing like Marcus. Marcus is sweet and kind. The Duke is cold. I don’t believe I saw an emotion pass over his face.”

Except lust.

“You and Lord Marcus were never…?”

“Never. You know we were not, Mama.”

Lady Northbridge’s shoulders relaxed just a little. “Listen to me, Louise,” she said. “I know this isn’t what either of us wanted, and your father has much to answer for, but this could be your way out. If he’s making such reckless bets, he must be in serious trouble. All the more reason for you to distance yourself from our family. Who knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

Louise’s heart pounded as she watched the Duke’s tall form move around the room. Now and again, his eyes would flick up and meet hers as he walked. The connection she felt was palpable, even from halfway across the room. He may be marrying her for Marcus’s sake, but he wanted her for himself—she was sure of it.

Her fingers tightened around her mother’s arm as a memory teased the edges of her mind—a dark hallway in the dead of night, the faint glow of a fire beneath a door, and the hard smack of a fist as her mother cried out in pain.

Yes. Her mother had used the word ‘escape’ for a reason.

“I cannot leave you with him,” she murmured.

Lady Northbridge shook her head. “It is not your job to protect me, Louise. You must forge your own path. We all make our choices, and I made mine for better or worse. With the limited options available, this is the lesser of two evils.”

“But I do not know the Duke.”

“That is true of many marriages. You will get to know him. He does not seem like a cruel man. That is something.”

Louise’s heart broke, for her mother’s measure of a good man was whether or not he might use his fists.

“It is the fate of many women to be promised to men they do not love. Make the best of it. I know you will.”

With that, they turned to watch the whirling dancers for many minutes, standing silent against the backdrop of the room’s myriad colors.

The dresses and masks passed by in a blur. A butterfly followed a cat, then followed a swan. Everything was checkered in multicolor, feathers whooshing past in tandem, skirts swishing, perfume heavy in the close air. Louise’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion, yet the wolf mask cut through it all.

As much as she did not wish to admit it, her mother was right. Any agency she might have possessed had been stripped away, and she was now left with two options: marry the Duke or disgrace her father and run away. It was no choice at all.

Maybe I will find out where Marcus is. Surely, that is worth the pain of a loveless marriage.

Every day since Marcus had disappeared, she had prayed that he would return or send some word, but there had been nothing. If her father was involved, he would not give up the information freely. If she could increase the Duke’s chances of discovering the truth, then it was a price she was willing to pay.

Determinedly, she bid her mother farewell and walked around the dance floor toward the Duke. Once more, he was standing beside the man with the bull mask. His companion was equally as imposing but slightly thinner.

The Duke’s eyes followed her as she walked toward him, and she found that she could not look away as his dark gaze locked with hers. There was a heat in his eyes that she had felt in the study—a reluctant awe, as though he wanted her despite himself.

When she eventually reached him, the man in the bull mask straightened and looked down at her with a disdain she knew all too well.

“The Ice Queen returns,” the Duke said blithely. “Lady Louise, may I introduce Gabriel Harding, the Duke of Stonewell.”

Stonewell gave a shallow bow, his mouth grim and unhappy. There was no warmth in his eyes whatsoever.

On the other hand, the Duke looked somewhat intrigued, and Louise steadied herself, swallowing down the pride that bubbled up her throat.

I can do this. If not for Marcus, then for my own freedom.

“I will consider your proposal.”

Stonewell snorted, and Louise shot him a vicious glare.

The Duke turned to face her fully and cocked his head. Behind the white wolf mask, his eyes were impossibly dark, glittering down at her as if he were the keeper of a secret he would not tell.

“ Consider it, Lady Louise? You do not have a choice in the matter. It has been agreed, and your father’s debt will be paid. I am afraid that is all there is to it.”

Louise’s anger flared at the arrogance in his words and the nonchalance in his voice. He spoke as though he was discussing a prize bull he had purchased at auction, not a young woman’s future.

“I may have to marry you, Your Grace, but I do not have to bow to you. This is not over.”

She turned to walk away when a strong hand encircled her upper arm. He stepped forward, looking down at her with an urgency she had not expected.

“Christian,” he murmured. “You are my betrothed, after all. Call me by my name.”

She wrenched her arm free and stepped away from him. “I imagine I will see you at the wedding, Your Grace. ”

Iron Harridan by name, Iron Harridan by nature.

The little vixen had left the ball before he had even been able to dance with her or explain the arrangements he had planned. She certainly had a reputation for a reason. He had never met a woman with such fire in her.

Her early departure had necessitated the tedious task of coming to see her the following morning. That was how Christian found himself in his carriage, winding his way through the streets of London toward her townhouse—the deed of which was locked in a drawer at his club.

When he arrived, the butler admitted him and asked him to wait in the drawing room. After several minutes—which felt very deliberate on the lady’s part—she eventually entered the room.

Her hair was tied by red ribbon this morning, matching the deep color of her dress, and he found himself quite captivated by the full beauty of her face.

I will need to watch myself around the Ice Queen. Or I will end up like my brother.

“Good morning, Lady Louise,” Christian said pleasantly as her eyes narrowed. “I trust you slept well?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I had very pleasant dreams about chasing a wolf through the forest,” she replied coolly, her eyes full of challenge. “I hope your visit this morning will be brief—I have places to be.”

Christian stared at her, amazed to find himself fighting a smile again. The little vixen was not to be underestimated.

“Lady Louise, I shall not waste time with pleasantries. Circumstances require swift action, and our marriage will resolve things most efficiently. I assure you, I do not make this proposal lightly.”

He paused, searching her face for a reaction, then continued. “To spare us the delay caused by the banns, I have obtained a special license. It will allow us to marry within the week. Despite the unusual circumstances of our marriage, I assure you, as my Duchess, you would have my utmost respect, and this is—first and foremost—a partnership.”

Lady Louise was wringing her hands as he spoke, her eyes narrowing at every word.

“I am most grateful for your respect , Your Grace. But I do not understand the haste with which you would carry this out or why you would put yourself in this position.”

“I have asked you to call me Christian.”

“Yes, I remember.” She jutted her chin stubbornly. “If you are marrying me to punish me for being friends with your brother, then I would ask you to reconsider. Believe me, I wish to know that he is safe as much as you do.”

“I am not interested in punishing you, Lady Louise. I want to find out what happened to him. If I must go to extremes to do so, then so be it.”

He sniffed, taking a step forward as she eyed him warily. The door was open, but they were technically unchaperoned. He wondered if his hasty visit had surprised her.

Is she alone in the house?

“You must be eager to marry,” he said softly. “Why does it matter who you take as your husband?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Eager to marry? Wherever did you get that idea? I have never wished to marry, and certainly not under these circumstances.”

Christian shrugged a shoulder. “I had assumed… given your reputation, you would be keen to ally yourself with a strong match. I am that match.”

She scoffed loudly, and his anger flared unbidden.

He looked out the window at the gray sky outside and cleared his throat. “Well, it does not matter. We will be married in a week, and this discussion will be irrelevant.”

“Hardly, Your Grace. If we are to be married so hastily and under terms I find abhorrent, I wish to set some rules to ensure that I have some say in the matter.”

Christian blinked.

Good God, the woman has more arrogance than many men of the peerage.

“Is that so?” he heard himself say. “And what rules might they be, Lady Louise?”

She glanced behind her briefly at the open door, but she did not falter.

“I assume you want an heir to continue your line?” Christian nodded his head in agreement. “And I have no objection to carrying children, but not during the first year of our marriage.”

Christian frowned, his mind flooded with images of how they might produce a child. The thought of his fingers running through that glorious hair came back in graphic detail, but this time, her hair was spread over a white pillow as he looked down at her sprawled beneath him.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head to dispel the image. “I cannot promise that.”

“Well then, I will not be able toagree to your proposal, Your Grace.”

The smile he had been fighting turned into a loud laugh, and her face hardened as he bowed to her. He did enjoy riling the lady, but his smile quickly faded at her steely gaze.

“Call me Christian. I will not ask again. And we have discussed this already, Lady Louise. You are not in a position to refuse. I will see you—and all of your rules—at the wedding in a week. I believe our partnership will prove most interesting.”