Page 9 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“Oh? Is there some other reason for you to be here?” Frances asked, sincerely curious about his remark.

“Yes. I have come to speak to you about a matter of grave importance.”

Her breath seemed to grow shallow. Had something happened? Something at the ball, perhaps? Worry began to rise up in her until Frances felt like she might need to sit down. She knew that he was a stranger to her and therefore could hardly have any unpleasant news to share, but this entire interaction had been so odd that anything seemed possible now.

“What’s the matter?” she managed to ask in a breathy whisper.

The duke stared down at her without registering any notice of her concern. His chiseled features were still placidly detached, as though he wasn’t even thinking of her or their surroundings. There was no hint of malice or disdain, yet no sign of good humor either. Instead, his dark, brooding eyes were as piercing as they’d been only hours before when they’d danced.

“I want you to marry me.”

CHAPTER 4

“What did you say?” Frances asked, her ears ringing slightly as the blood pounded in her veins.

“I spoke rather clearly the first time. I said I want you to marry me.”

Frances sank into a chair nearby and felt her mind begin to race. What was happening? She looked around, as though a perfectly clear explanation was lingering somewhere near the stone planters filled to overflowing with trailing ivy and delicate snowcaps. When no enlightenment came to her, she turned back to the duke.

“But why?” she asked weakly, trying to make sense of his calm expression and bizarre request.

“I should think it’s perfectly logical. You are a beautiful young lady, and you seem very pleasant. I am as yet unmarried, as are you, and therefore—”

“And therefore, we should simply marry because we have nothing better to do?” she asked, wide-eyed. Her ire was growing at the callousness of it all.

“I did not say that. But is there some cause we should not?” he asked, his tone still making him sound as though he found it perfectly reasonable.

“That’s your only answer? That I cannot provide you with ample reasons not to accept your offer, therefore, I should accept? I’m sorry, but that is not how my mind works. It was lovely to meet you, Your Grace, but I must decline your offer and see to my responsibilities now. Sara will show you out.”

Frances returned inside and made it to the staircase before Lady Hutchings pounced like a starved tiger. Frances managed to pull her away so that the Duke of Preston would not see them converse about him, but once he had passed and the door had closed behind him, the inquisition began.

“What happened? Tell me everything! Who is he?” her aunt began, firing the questions at her like a constable giving chase.

“Apparently, he is the Duke of Preston,” Frances began, still reeling from the bizarre encounter.

“We already knew that! What else?” Lady Hutchings demanded as Juliet hurried to her side.

“He is… without a doubt, he is the most abnormal person I have ever met. And Miss Chatham required us to help care for the sick and suffering at a nearby hospital, so I’ve met quite a number of unusual people. Still, he was so very strange.”

“No one cares about that, tell me what he said about Juliet!” her aunt cried in frustration.

“If you wish to know his thoughts on Juliet, why would you not want to know if there’s something wrong with him?” Frances asked, puzzled.

“Why would I care about inconsequential things like his personality or his appearance? He’s a duke, that’s all that matters!”

Besides Lady Hutchings, Juliet nodded. Frances stared at both of them, aghast. The thought of being married to a man and not caring for anything other than his title chilled her to the bone.

And yet, he asked me to marry him, she thought, still trying to make sense of it.

“I’m very sorry to inform you, but he did not speak of my cousin,” she said plainly before turning away to go to her room.

Lady Hutchings’ hand shot out and gripped her arm painfully.

“I don’t believe you. What else would he wish to speak about?”

“Has it crossed your mind that perhaps he wished to speak tome? And that he might want to talk aboutme?” Frances countered, tears of indignation at being so scorned glistening in her eyes.

“I knew it! I knew you were trying to steal him for yourself!” Juliet shouted, stomping her foot and balling her fists at her side.

---