Page 19 of Enslaved to the Seduction of a Lady
Chapter Eight
“Quicker, Lad,” Rupert said, watching over Luke as he hitched up the coach. Luke glared at him but said nothing, and Rupert felt a thrill of satisfaction. He never tired of putting the servants in their place, even if ultimately, it made things more awkward for himself.
As he finally climbed into the carriage and they trundled away, Rupert sighed happily. The night had gone well—according to plan—and he was feeling smug with his success of it. His conversation with Lady Alison, brief as it was, showed him she would make an acceptable wife, even if she would be a reluctant one, and he was even more certain that her parents would agree to the match.
He turned to his valet and grinned.
“I do believe our plan will work,” he said. Fletcher smiled at him, agreeing as he was supposed to.
“I had no doubt,” Fletcher said. “I knew you could win her over.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense,” Rupert said, scoffing at even the thought of wooing a lady. He knew he had no need of doing such strenuous work, not when someone like Lady Alison was so easy for the catch. “I don’t care towin her over, as you say, Fletcher. Her opinion is of little importance to me.”
“Of course not,” Fletcher said, nodding in agreement. “I was being foolish.”
“Her dowry, on the other hand… now that is something worth considering.”
“You spoke to her parents?” Fletcher asked. Rupert smiled at him. The valet had been well-trained in what to ask and when. He knew this was a time to encourage Rupert in his plans.
“I have not made an offer, of course,” Rupert began, eager to tell his tale. “A garden party is hardly the place for such business agreements, but yes, I spoke a little to them. They are keen to see her married as soon as possible. Desperate, as I said. I imagine that, should I approach them relatively soon, they will not dare to refuse. They are too scared no one else will come along—and rightly so, given the lady’s age.”
“Yes, My Lord, she is old now,” Fletcher said.
Rupert looked out of the window of the carriage, unable to keep the smile from his face. The evening had indeed been a great success—better even than he had hoped. The Duke and Duchess had both spoken to him about their daughter, and separately, too. They clearly knew the dangers of leaving her marriage any later, and that Lady Alison had grown too old to have a choice was a great benefit to Rupert.
“We danced, you know,” he said, turning smugly to Fletcher. “She is beautiful, but she was tense and resistant. I rather liked that. You know how much I like a challenge, and she’ll certainly be that—especially when she realizes she has no choice but to marry me.”
“I’m sure she will put up quite a fight, My Lord.”
“I certainly hope so,” Rupert said, his eyes lit up with glee. “How exciting.”
* * *
Luke lay on his pallet in the hut, his head resting on his hands as he stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought and pain and love. His body was awash with emotion—both good and bad—and he couldn’t calm his mind.
Lady Alison represented so much for him—love, passion, desire, but also friendship, pain, and jealousy. He wanted her more than anything, and the fact that he knew he couldn’t have her only made him want her all the more.
He hated himself for the way he had reacted that evening, so full of petty jealousy. He had never before coveted the position of a lord, and he had never before felt such a surge of envy. It made him feel small, weak, and he didn’t consider himself that sort of man.
No, he promised himself that now, he would focus only friendship, and not let his emotions force him into acting a certain way. She could never be more than a friend—he was lucky he had what he already did—and he would embrace that, instead of yearning for more.
“What an evening!” Jenny said as she pushed her way through the door. Her uniform was soiled with spilt wine, and she had dark, tired rings beneath her eyes.
“It was a busy one,” Luke said, agreeing with her but not turning to look.
Behind him, he heard Jack’s wheezy greeting, his head so close to Jack’s as their pallets lay end-to-end.
She pulled out a dining chair and fell into it with an exhausted groan, resting her head in her arms on the table.
“You’ll be all right, girl,” Luke said, taking in a long, deep breath. “A night’s sleep will solve all your woes.”
“It will solve most,” she said, raising her head from the table. Her brow was creased in concern and her voice cracked with tiredness. “But not all. Speaking of which, I overheard something that might interest you, Luke.”
“What’s that?” he said, turning his head to look at her, vaguely curious but too tired to be anything more.
“About Lady Alison,” she said. “I was clearing away the empty bottles as the Master and Mistress talked about her.”
He swung his legs over the side of the pallet and sat up, suddenly awake and focused. He looked seriously at his sister, but she merely smiled at him.
