Page 36 of How to Win a Duke’s Heart

Her father’s gaze grew shrewd and wary, but Evan’s countenance remained inscrutable. He turned to face her and her father. His midnight-black hair stood on end as if he’d been scraping his fingers through the strands.

“Which are?” Papa asked cautiously, growing ever weaker before her eyes.

He knew his daughter well, and another time, his leeriness might’ve made her smile.

“If after a year the Duke of Waycross and I are irrevocably incompatible, I shall be allowed to leave and go where I choose without any reprisal from him. My half of your estate will remain in my control at all times.”

“But what if there is a child?” Papa sent Evan a disturbed glance. “You cannot separate a child, especially if he is the heir, from his father.”

Sophronie fixed Evan with a fulminating stare. “The marriage will not be consummated until—if ever—I am convinced we are suitable. It would only be a year, and the duke can ask for an annulment.”

Heat flared up her cheeks at having such an intimate discussion in front of her father and the doctor. Regardless, they’d conspired behind her back so they could squirm in discomfort too.

“I agree,” Evan said in a tenor she’d never heard before, like something gathered from the deepest night. It sent a shiver from her waist to her spine and made her want to retract her verbal agreement.

“As do I.” Her father managed a wan smile and patted her hand resting upon his mattress. “You are angry with me now, daughter, but in time, I think you will come to thank me.”

A rustling in the passageway announced someone’s arrival. After a soft knock on the doorframe, the duchess entered, accompanied by two gentlemen. “Mr. Cornett and Reverend Twitchell are here at yer behest, Mr. Slater. I thought it best to bring them up straightaway.”

Her inquisitive gaze circled the men in the room before settling on Sophronie with sympathy.

“Mother, please ask the rest of the family to assemble here posthaste.” Evan moved to stand behind Sophronie.

Already staking his claim, was he?

She looked momentarily nonplussed. “All of them?”

Over her shoulder, Sophronie glared daggers at him from beneath her spiky eyelashes. She bet he wanted to make sure there were plenty of witnesses to the marriage.

Unfair, her conscience promptly scolded. You know how close Evan is to his family. He and they are being robbed of a proper wedding ceremony too.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Papa said to the duchess, his pale face wreathed in happiness. “Our children are to wed this very night.”