Page 6 of A Bride for the Cruel Duke

“I will have you know that what happened earlier was not my fault, and the fact that you seem to think it is...” She folded her arms and glared at him. “It tells me all I need to know about you. A gentleman? Ha! I would have done better to have taken my chances with those brigands.”

“Careful, my pet?—”

“I am not?—”

“—you are dangerously close to proving my point for me. You wish to know what kind of man I am? I am one who appreciates peace and quiet. Now, do I need to be clearer, or are you going to behave as even the lamest of strays would know how to do?”

Caroline was not an argumentative type. Having grown up as the middle child, invisible to her mother just about, she was always careful not to cause a fuss where one was not needed as she found that rarely was there any point in being confrontational. However, this duke brought out a side of her that she could not control, and she found that all she wanted to do was make it known that she was not one to be walked over so effortlessly and rudely.

“I will say one final thing and leave it at that.” She raised her eyebrows at him in warning and he looked at her plainly. “When we arrive, as I hope we do soon, the first thing I plan on doing is putting as much space between me and you as is possible, from which point I plan on never seeing or speaking to you again. Which, by my estimation, will still be far too much for my own liking.”

The duke eyed her curiously, as if he was surprised that she had spoken up to him as she had just done. There was a hint of a smile behind his eyes, maybe even the sense that he was impressed. But rather than saying as much, he shook his head, sighed, and then looked back out of the window.

She felt herself shaking but she stayed her tongue and turned her head away, content to count the minutes until they arrived. Silence was what she wished for now. Silence and better company than this duke could ever afford.

Unfortunately, as was the case for today it seemed, luck wasn’t on her side.

The carriage lurched suddenly, the coachman cried out, and then she felt them come to a grinding halt.

“What was that?” she asked, moving to the door.

“Wait here,” he ordered, throwing the door open. “Mr. Gulliver!” the duke barked. “What is going on!”

“Your Grace...” Mr. Gulliver appeared by the open door, a grimace on his face and he fiddled nervously with his hands. “I am afraid that we have a problem...”

* * *

“I promise you, as soon as we arrive, my family will be sure you pay you back,” Caroline insisted as she and the duke wandered through the foyer of the small inn.

“It is fine,” he grumbled.

“We repay out debts,” she insisted. “And this is twice now that I find myself in yours. Again, I promise that as soon as we arrive, my family will —”

“I said it is fine.” He stalked past her, his shoulders hunched, each step taken heavy, shaking the wooden floorboards of the inn.

She had not known the duke for long enough to properly ascertain his moods, or the reason for them, so Caroline found herself wondering if the sour temperament in which he currently existed was on account of their new situation or the lie she had just told.

The truth was that Caroline’s family was broke. Worse than broke, they were destitute. It was her deceased father’s fault, although blaming him now felt petty and pointless. What mattered was rectifying this ailment, a task her mother was working tirelessly toward and the main reason that her older sister was getting married. A marriage which she doubted her sister was excited for—as said, she had met His Grace a handful of times, and he was not exactly inviting—but knew to commit fully to for the sake of her family.

If the duke knew the Duke of Aldworth as well as he seemed to, there was a good chance that he also knew of her family’s situation, which meant that he knew she was lying to him. And, if that was the case, his current state of foulness was perfectly justifiable.

On the other hand, maybe he was just annoyed because once again they had become waylaid and this time he had no one to blame.

The duke stalked to the front counter, which was empty. She heard him groan with vexation. “Is anyone there?” he called. “Innkeeper!” Still, the counter stood empty, and he groaned further as he muttered to himself. “This is unbelievable...”

Was it so wrong that she took pleasure in seeing the duke upset?Even a duke, it seems, is not beyond bad luck.

The carriage had broken down a mile up the road. One of the spokes of the wheel was cracked Mr. Gulliver had said, and would require the night to fix. A most inconvenient situation, forcing Caroline and the duke to trudge into the nearby town and find an inn to bed down in for the night. It was the only inn in town, a humble little cottage which she assumed a man of the duke’s status would rather be dead than seen in. Again, a smile was brought to her lips by the thought.

That smile faded just as quickly when a new realization dawned on her. And then her stomach dropped, and her face paled, and she started to shiver as if the flu had just taken her because she heard voices speaking in a whisper from across the room, coming closer, the conversation one that struck fear through her being.

“... I don’t know what she looks like,” one of the voices said. “Just that she is the daughter of a countess, left behind as they told it.”

“And they think she is here?”

“They don’t know where she is,” the first voice explained. “A rider was sent back to where they left her, but she was gone. Could be halfway to Wales for all anyone knows it.”

“What’s her name?”

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