Page 20 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
Veronica nodded, clasping her hands before her. She couldn’t stop trembling, and her hands shook, so she squeezed them tighter to hide it.
He looked down at his bruised knuckles, grimacing.
Finally, Veronica moved to the column, letting herself collapse against it, sighing. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back, refusing to fall prey to her own emotions.
The Duke spoke again. His voice was still clipped, hard, but the words were inquisitive. “What did that vermin mean when he said about a deal with your mother?”
Considering he himself had taunted her with the rumors in his study, the Duke seemed to be in the dark. Veronica could not meet his gaze when she admitted the truth. The very truth that the gossip sheet did not tell anyone about.
“I… My mother…” she broke off, gasping back more tears. “Due to my brother’s disappearance over the last year, my mother and I have been left without enough money to survive, really. I have no dowry, no gowns. Our food is… minimal, and my mother began to sell off some items in our house. One of the buyers was Lord Barwicke.
“He offered quite a different exchange. My mother has been…” Veronica struggled for words. “She has been offering herselfin exchange for Lord Barwicke’s financial help. He has been giving us monthly allowances. Mine is rather small, but it is something. This dress was bought with his money which is no doubt why he felt entitled to touch it.”
“He tried to touchyou,” the Duke growled.
His gaze turned dark, furious, as he stared at her, shaking his head. “Why did you not include this when you came to my home?”
“Because you could not wait to see me out of the door!” Veronica cried. “Youtauntedme about what the gossip sheet saidregarding my mother and me. Would you have truly listened? I was already over your designated five minutes, was I not?”
At that, he did not even look ashamed. Still, he looked livid—both at her and Lord Barwicke for very different reasons.
“How would I have known your offer of help would remain if I had told you the truth?” she whispered. “You have been nothing but unkind to me, and now—now you have offered to help me at the worst possible time!”
The Duke strode towards her, his mouth sneering in anger. “Should I have left you out here with him, then? Would you have rather Lord Barwicke assaulted you?”
The word and implication dropped into her stomach as heavy as a stone.
She glared up at him, once again marveling at their height difference. “I am sure I would have stopped him without angering him much. Now, thanks to your interference, he shall rage about it to everyone, I am sure, and my family will be ruined even further. No doubt he will twist his attempts into… into…”
She trailed off, shuddering.
“Into something that I wanted. And I shall never find a husband because men likeyoucannot control your temper, and men like Barwicke cannot be honorable. I have no doubt that if my brother does not return home, then whoever the next Granthamheir is, he will have my mother and me on the streets of Dalton Square before we can greet him.”
Her words were matter-of-fact but her tears were falling fast. She could not hold them back any longer.
“I shall be ruined,” she whispered, more to herself than him.
Her entire being was wilting, going limp, and all she wanted was to collapse into her mother’s arms. But her mother was not there—the Duke of Westley was, and he had gone horribly, horribly silent.
His shoulders were tense, and she took the moment to attempt to compose herself.
Inhale, exhale—of all people, do not let the Duke see you fall apart.
And then the Duke’s voice broke the silence. “I will marry you.”
The words fell from his lips, hanging in the air for a moment. “I am sorry?” Veronica asked. A disbelieving laugh exhaled from her. “You would be so cruel, Your Grace? Do not… do not toy with me.”
The Duke’s eyes lifted to hers. “I will marry you.”
His voice was hard, serious. He was unkind, but he was not a liar. Was he? She hardly knew this man. But…
“I will marry you, Lady Veronica, and I will ensure that Barwicke stays away from you and Lady Grantham.”
“What—”
“And you will live with me, in Turner Hall as the Duchess of Westley until they find Robert.” He paused. “Or his corpse at least.”
Veronica winced, but her head spun with the thought of herself becoming a duchess. Surely not her… not her in her simple gown with her almost non-existent dowry.
