Page 1 of Three Nights with the Beastly Duke

CHAPTERONE

“It is time, my dear son,” Marianne had insisted, her words ringing in Arthur’s ears.

“You’ve shut yourself away long enough. Youmustdo your duty and find a wife.”

As the words played over in over in Arthur’s mind, his eyes searched the scenery of London’s finest homes. He hated the city. At home in Whitekin, his people had grown used to his disfigurement and saw him as their Duke. But here, in the swell of people, he was just a scarred face with a fine suit. A well-dressed beast feared by all.

He’d avoided London successfully for several years. Then, shortly after his turning two and thirty, his mother began pushing him back into London Society in hopes of snagging him another bride. He’d objected at first, not willing to go through Grace’s rejection all over again. But he knew she was right. He’d stalled long enough, and before he knew it, Society would be demanding an heir from him.

His carriage slowed down in front of tall gates that encompassed an impressive manor of a house, and a moment later, when they came to a stop inside of the gates, the driver announced that they had reached the Donset Estate.

“Kenneth Dennis is a respectable man of thetonas are his three daughters,” his mother had told him. “His middle girl, Rebecca, is on the marriage market, and he has agreed to accept our proposal of marriage for her. She will be good for you.”

When he asked about the eldest sister, Lavinia, his mother quickly discouraged his curiosity, stating that she had already—and rather unfortunately—embraced the life of spinsterhood.

“Ah, Your Grace!” Kenneth Dennis, the Viscount of Donset, greeted with a booming voice as Arthur stepped out of the carriage. “We are so honored by your visit.”

“The honor is mine, Lord Donset,” Arthur returned politely, offering the older man a respectful bow. “My family thanks you for your willingness to move forward with this marital arrangement. Tell me, will I be meeting Miss Rebecca today?”

Arthur caught Kenneth’s eyes lingering on his scar, and he ignored the disappointment sweeping through him. Of course, he would notice.Everyonenoticed.

“In good time, Your Grace,” Kenneth replied cheerily, finally turning away from Arthur so he could lead him inside. “She is a bit nervous, my dear girl. But she is a very respectable young lady. She will make you very proud as a wife. I am sure of it.”

“I have no doubts,” Arthur replied, following the man into his study.

Unknown to him, however, his bride-to-be was indeed there, hidden between the wall and a large, decorative urn. And when she saw her intended, a knot formed in her stomach, her eyes welled with tears, and she mourned the loss of her freedom.

* * *

“Rebecca?” Lavinia called, going from one door to another to find her sister. “Rebecca, where are you?”

Lavinia had watched from her window as her younger sister’s future husband arrived. He had a large stature this man. Not of width, but of height and posture. Even from her perch, she had seen the Duke’s dominating presence ebb and flow all around him like invisible clouds. He was tall, even taller than her father—which was a feat in itself—and a well-muscled figure that seemed uncomfortably confined in his fine clothes.

His hair, dark and wavy, fell over the left side of his face, covering one of his eyes. Though she couldn’t be sure from her position, she was sure that they were either a dark brown like hers, or possibly even dark green. Knowing her sister was nervous, she had set off to find Rebecca and talk to her. But thus far, she had been unsuccessful.

“Rebecca,” Lavinia repeated, her voice dropping to a loud whisper as she came to the first floor of their home. “Darling, come out this second!”

From behind the closed door of their family’s library, Lavinia heard the softest cry, and she stopped in her tracks. She pressed her ear to the door and listened. Sure enough, she could hear Rebecca’s soft voice on the other side, murmuring something about beasts or monsters. Both curious and concerned, she opened the door and went to Rebecca’s side.

“Becca, darling, what is wrong?” Lavinia asked, putting an arm around her sister’s shoulders.

“Oh, Vinnie!” Rebecca wailed loudly, turning to throw her arms around her sister. “It’s true! The rumors are true, and it’s awful! He looks as beastly as they say!”

Although she was compassionate for her sister’s situation—being married to a complete stranger—Lavinia rolled her eyes. Thetonand the rumors it produced were never boring. But they were annoying. And often inaccurate. Unfortunately, she knew such things from personal experience.

“That is simply not true,” Lavinia replied calmly, running a calming hand over Rebecca’s hair. “I saw him from my window, and I thought he looked rather handsome. Gruff, yes, but also handsome.”

Rebecca quickly pulled away from Lavinia’s embrace and looked at her older sister with a gaze of betrayal. Though sisters, they looked so different from one another. While Lavinia had their mother’s dark features, a pale complexion, and a slim figure, Rebecca and Agnes had inherited their father’s. They both had copper hair, bright blue eyes, a smattering of adorable freckles across the bridge of their noses, and curvier figures. Lavinia had often envied their looks when they had been younger, but in recent years, she had learned to accept her own type of dark beauty.

“You didn’t get a close enough look,” Rebecca bit out, roughly wiping away her tears. “He has a horrible scar across his face. They say that his temperament is as foul as his looks. What is Papa thinking?!”

Lavinia wished that she knew. When her father had broken the news to them that he had bartered a marriage for Rebecca, she had been beyond furious with him. They had argued for days about her mama’s final wish, and how it went against everything she had wanted for her daughters. But no matter what point she made, her father had refused to hear it.

“Darling, I love you dearly,” her papa had said. “You know I do. And I am thankful for the help you’ve given with raising your sisters, but you made an error when you chose not to marry. It is one thing to have one spinster daughter, but I cannot have two. And thanks to your sister’s deplorably spoiled attitude, she has chased away every suitor that has come to our door. The Duke of Whitekin holds a respectable grip on his lands and is willing to overlook not just your sister’s flaws, but yours as well. I’m sorry, darling. But Rebeccawillmarry Arthur Kendall.”

“You must help me, Vinnie,” Rebecca begged presently, gathering Lavinia’s hands into her own. “I can’t marry him. I can’t.”

“You will learn to love him,” Lavinia assured her, trying her best to be optimistic. “You just have to give him time.”

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