Page 21 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“I—Your Grace, I—I have no dowry.”
“I do not care for your dowry.”
She opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say to that.
His face was a mask of stoicism. “I do not need to get paid to marry you.”
“Then whatdoyou get out of this?” Veronica could not help but ask.
“It is none of your business,” he said, his words cutting through the air. “You shall live as my duchess and when the matter is cleared, we shall live separately.”
“People will notice.”
“And you shall still be safe, will you not?”
Heaven help her, Veronica felt ungrateful for thinking,I wished for a love match,because this also helped her honor what her mother wished for: for Veronica to find a man who would be able to provide for them. She ought to be grateful, to fall at his feet in gratitude, but she could not past her own confusion.
“I must know,” she insisted. “Unless you are just like Lord Barwicke. For how different can you be?—”
“Donot,” he growled, stepping closer to her, “compare me to thatfilthever again.”
But Veronica did not balk. She hadn’t in his study, and she wouldn’t now, either. She stared at him until he relented.
Something like… like guilt flashed through his face. His brows pinched, and his mouth tightened in a wince.
Was it possible she had hit a nerve the day in his study and that hedidfeel responsible for Robert’s disappearance? Was he offering this out of guilt?
“Fine,” he hissed. “By marrying you, I get to escape all the marriage-minded mamas who only see me as a commodity for their daughter. Marrying you gets me off the market, so to speak.”
His lips quirked into a self-deprecating smile, but it was a knowing one, and she knew that this arrangement would save them both—Veronica from Lord Barwicke, and her lack of other suitors tonight, and the Duke from beingthesuitor everybody wanted. For she had seen how the ladies and their mamas had watched him, noting his every move. She recalled his name in the gossip sheets alongside hers, calling him terrible things, insulting anecdotes, and standing in the garden, she could understand why he might be so icy towards everybody.
They had already set him up for harsh judgment.
But perhaps he has acted in ways to deserve that,she thought.
“Is that all?” Veronica asked, cocking her head. “That is the only reason you are offering to marry me.”
“It is not an offer,” he told her. “It is a done deal.”
I wish you would not speak as though I am the worst person to marry and to do this is exhausting you greatly, she wished she could say.
His shoulders were tense, and he shook his head, turning to leave.
“Wait!” she called, making him pause. “All right. I agree to your offer. I shall marry you.”
She said it even as her heart broke, aching for a loving marriage. But sometimes ladies were not so fortunate, and she had to consider herself fortunate that the Duke of Westley was not Lord Barwicke or an aged, lecherous gentleman.
“I am only doing this for my mother,” Veronica told him firmly. “And if it weren’t for her, I wouldnevermarry a man like you.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder, half turning to her. “Good.”
For a moment, Veronica did not, and could not, look away. He didn’t, either, and his eyes dropped to her lips. It was only then that she realized she had gotten closer to him in her bid for him to wait.
The Duke’s eyes stayed on her mouth, and it sent a tingle of desire through her. She shivered, and it was as if that reaction snapped him out of his vacancy.
“I will be in touch,” he said and walked away, towards the light spilling out of Fernwell House up ahead.
Veronica collapsed against the column, letting herself well and truly wilt.
