Page 84 of In Service to the Duke

Bloody hell, why does it have to sound so right, so perfect? Dropping my head into my hands, I make myself okay with what’s about to happen. She was perfect for me before the damned letters, and she’ll be perfect for me after. It’s not as if her mother has knowledge of my proclivities and trained her to take my harsh hand. That would be ridiculous.

And yet…

Stranger things have happened. Granted, if the mother was that nefarious, I would expect blackmail to be more in order. Though, I suppose by foisting her daughter on me, it would guarantee a more constant payday than just one blackmail. I run my fingers through my hair, messing it up.

Why can’t I get these scenarios out of my head? It’s as if she’s poisoned me and there’s no one here to suck out the wound. Would it have been any better if she waited until after we were bound? I would have found out about it the moment I looked into her mind, so it’s not as if she could have kept this hidden from me forever.

A growl rips from my lips as I slam my fists on the table. At this point, I don’t care if the servants next door can hear me. Once Miss Gillet -Emma- is my wife, they’ll be hearing a whole lot more.

Striding over to the door connecting the two rooms, I fling it open, startling the maids. With a soft shriek, they drop into a curtsy, scuttling off as I glare at them. I’m not sure why their presence unnerves me, but I want to be alone with no one else privy to my shifting moods.

Clothes lay spread out on her bed. Based on what I’m seeing, my mother only managed to get her new underclothes instead of dresses fit for the governess’s new station. I suppose so many things will have to change, and not just her title.

Running my hand over her delicate stockings, my cock stiffens. At least she has pretty things to wear while chained to my bed. Though I told myself I wasn’t going to indulge in the darker side of pleasures with her until our trust was mended, I find that particular promise hard to keep. It’s been torture keeping my distance these last few weeks.

And when she begged me to punish her? I almost gave in. How quickly I’m prone to scandal when she’s nearby. Farce or not, it’s probably for the best we’re getting married. Even if she wasn’t here to trap me, I would have entrapped myself soon enough.

Shaking my head, I leave the room, closing the door behind me. Sensing movement, I freeze and look up. There, regal as always, is my mother. She looks at me, a fierce frown marring her face.

The only time I’ve ever seen such an expression was when William and I got into some mischief she strictly forbade us not to do. Unease clenches my gut as I pull out a chair for her and stand back, allowing her to sit. She doesn’t, making my apprehension rise.

“Mother, are you well?”

“No, son. I am not.”

Blood drains from my face as I rush to her side. “What is it? Shall I get your physician?”

She swats my hand away, her eyes blazing. “There is no need. My health is not what ails me.”

I stare at the woman before me, taking in every wrinkle. There’s something different about her. There’s a rosiness to her cheeks which has been missing for quite some time.

“Mother, I-”

“No. You will listen and be quiet,” she scolds, poking my chest with her finger. “How dare you make that poor girl cry?”

Confusion fuzzes my brain for a moment. “Margaret? She’s always crying for some reason or another. Despite what she says, I have had no hand in whatever romantic affliction bothers her now. I’ve been too busy preparing for my nuptials to even tease her. Poor girl indeed. You coddle her far too much.”

“It is not your sister to whom I am referring, but your future wife.” For a moment, red tinges my vision.

Emma crying? Whoever caused this to happen will certainly feel my wrath. But then, her words begin to make sense in my mind. I’m apparently the culprit. Has the chit been spinning more falsehoods?

“But how? I have not seen her at all today. And with how you continue to champion for her after knowing-”

“I know everything now. The poor thing showed me the letters and I read them.” There’s a glimmer of anger in her eyes, and I’m not entirely sure if all of it is directed at me.

“Then you now know for sure she meant to trap me.”

“No, you pig-headed oaf. If you had given the girl a chance to explain-”

This time, I’m the one who cuts her off. “I asked her if it was true. And she admitted she came here for that purpose.”

“Because her mother demanded it. Once she was here, she did everything in her power to keep from trapping you, even refusing your proposal. Honestly, Son, did your father and I teach you nothing? Marriage should be about love. Not just duty or honor.”

“But I was honor-bound,” I cried out, my voice hoarse with emotion. “You don’t understand. I burned for her. If I hadn’t proposed…”

With an indulgent smile, she pats my arm. “Like father, like son, I suppose. Charlie was the same way. He knew if he didn’t marry me, he would trap us with the strength of his love. He, however, was smart enough to convey that and left such honor nonsense out of it.”

In my mind, I replay our conversation. Of course, in hindsight, so many things make sense. She seemed so eager, so willing. When I brought up honor, that’s when she shied away, refusing my suit.