Page 9 of The Duke's Gamble
To Florentina’s grim satisfaction, the Duke appeared a little flustered. Shifting in his chair, he opened his mouth to find some sort of response, only to shrug, shake his head and the lean back in his chair a little.
“We are well aware that it is upon our brother that the guilt lies,” Christina added softly. “I have no doubt that he was in his cups when he made such a bet, however, and I confess myself a little surprised that a gentleman of your standing would accept a bet of such significance and weight from a gentleman so foxed.”
This time, Florentina allowed herself a small, dark smile. Her sister spoke calmly, with an almost gentle tone, and yet she was stating quite clearly that she believed the Duke of Dartmoor had behaved in a most ungentlemanly manner.
“I can assure you that I did ask him, on a number of occasions, whether or not he truly wished to make that bet,” the Duke snapped, his temper clearly beginning to rise as he sat forward again, a redness rising up his neck. “I could not simply refuse. I could not simply end the game there and then! We had gambled a great deal and—”
“And whilst you may have asked my brother whether or not he was truly willing to make the bet, might I also suggest that your greed had a little to do with it also?” Florentina tilted her head, speaking just as calmly as her sister, though her words were sharp, she knew. Criticism evidently did not sit well with the Duke, for he immediately flushed red and his eyes narrowed into thin, dark slits as he turned his face to her. Florentina did not even flinch, however, copying her mother as she lifted one eyebrow and looked towards him without saying another word.
“You have no good reason to hurl such accusations at me.”
“Do I not? Tilting her head carefully, she breathed out slowly for a moment, allowing her remark to settle upon the Duke. He opened his mouth again, but then closed it, looking away as the realization of what she meant hit him. “Yes, Your Grace, I did hear you when you entered this house earlier,” she stated quietly. “You were expressing just how magnificent this manor house was and how glad you were to now possess it. You were reveling in your supposedly good fortune, glad that it would be yours. So yes, I believe I do have every reason to say such a thing.”
The Duke folded his arms across his chest and glared at her but the dark look had no influence upon Florentina and she did not look away.
He is selfish indeed. From his own lips, he informed me of his own estate and manor house, and now he comes to seek this place for himself also?
Again came that dull silence, where nobody seemed to know what to say. Florentina continued to hold the Duke’s gaze, making it quite clear that she was not afraid of him or of his apparent demands upon both them and this house. Inwardly, however, she was dreadfully afraid that they would be forced from the only house they had ever known, cast aside and forced to somehow, find another way in the world. Silently, she railed at her brother for behaving so unwisely, more than a little upset that he had ever thought to do such a thing as this. What foolishness had made him act so? She could understand that he was grieving and perhaps struggling with his new role within their family, but that was not an excuse for his present behavior. The fact that he had not even returned to the Haddington estate to tell them of it but had, instead, sent a letter, made things all the worse. She could only imagine the despair in her mother’s heart at present.
Finally, the Duke of Dartmoor cleared his throat. “I have no desire whatsoever to cause you great distress, but yes, I shall take ownership of this house as I have planned.” The redness in his face had not diminished and the way his lips pressed together as he spoke told her of his determination. “I am sorry for the struggle that will follow after you, but it cannot be helped. I am not a cruel gentleman although I understand that you may very well think otherwise.”
Florentina allowed herself a small snort, which the Duke clearly did not appreciate given the way his eyes snapped towards her, but again she did not care. His lack of mercy and his obvious selfishness was injuring them most grievously and his willingness to continue to do so made him appear very small in her eyes.
“I shall not take residence here immediately,” he declared as though he was offering them a great courtesy. “I will, of course, allow you all alittletime before I take it as my own.”
This was followed by yet another silence where all of the sisters looked at each other, wondering just how long it would be before the Duke decided to move his servants and some of his possessions into the house. Quite what he would do with it when he had his own estate, Florentina could not imagine but he was making very plain indeed that he had no interest in permitting them to remain residents here.
She swallowed hard.
Silence continued to bloom, sweeping over all of them. Florentina waited expectantly for him to say something more, but the man simply looked over in the room, a small, almost benevolent smile on his face, which Florentina thought most ridiculous in light of what he had just demanded. Her mother, she saw, had gone very red in the face, rather than pale and sorrowful, as she had feared. Evidently, she was just as angered by the Duke as Florentina herself was.
“Why do you not simply tell us when it is that you wish to take residence in this house?” Miriam was the first to break the silence, throwing out her hands with clear frustration and speaking with a great sharpness which made Florentina’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Miriam was not often inclined to speak with such fierceness but evidently this situation had upset her just as much as it had everyone else.
The Duke cleared his throat. “I have no specific date as yet,” he returned to her, his jaw flexing. “I am aware that you will require time to find yourselves suitable matches, or at least the eldest two will. Thereafter, mayhap, the youngest and yourself also, Lady Haddington, might settle elsewhere. I understand there is a Dower house?” Again, he looked towards Lady Haddington, but she said nothing, her gaze sharp and her lips thin and Florentina’s anger began to burn all the hotter. Was this gentleman really attempting to encourage their mother to move to the dower house with her younger daughter? Hehad no knowledge of the dower house, nor of the fact that it was undergoing improvements and would certainly not be ready for some time—especially given their brother’s apparent lack of fortune—and yet he simply assumed that they could remove there! It was not only improper, but also exceedingly rude of him.
And most inconsiderate at that, given the shock that my mother is currently enduring and the grief she still bears.
“There is no need for you to decide where my mother and sisters shall go, Duke,” she began before anyone else could speak. “All that is required, as my sister Miriam has stated, is for you to inform us as to when you intend to take residence in this house, and we shall make the arrangements ourselves.”
The Duke blinked, then glanced at his friend, who merely shrugged and looked away. Lord Crawley, Florentina considered, was a very quiet sort of gentleman, who neither agreed nor disagreed with anything his friend had said. That irritated her somewhat, she would have much preferred him to make plain his thoughts on the entire situation and, should he disagree, to voice his concerns to his friend in as straightforward a manner as possible.
“As I have said, I have no particular date set in mind.” the Duke sniffed and lifted his shoulders. “This has come as something of a shock to me also. I was not expecting to see any of you in this house.”
“You have still not given us a date,” Florentina put in, ignoring any attempt to make her sympathetic to him. “We cannot make any arrangements to alter our situation until we know the precise time that you intend to move yourself into this house.”
At this, the Duke blinked, then tipped his head. “Shall we say a month or two? Maybe three, at the very most.”
Florentina’s throat constricted as a horrid fear wrapped its cold hands about her heart.
Sixty days? How can we make any sort of arrangements within that time?
Her eyes flew to her mother who was now staring at the Duke with wide eyes, her hand scrabbling to find the hand of her daughter, Christina. How could they possibly manage such a thing? And where would they go, if the dower house was not prepared and ready for them?
“The Season is due to begin, is it not?” the Duke continued, airily. “I am sure that you will all be able to find a suitable match during that time and, in doing so, will find that things do not appear as desperate as they are at present. That would be pleasing for us all, I am sure.”
Florentina dragged air into her tight lungs, unsure as to whether or not she felt relieved at this suggestion. It was all so very disconcerting to hear him speak in such a way, and the pressure that came with such a suggestion made Florentina’s heart tumble to the floor. Yes, her mother had discussed going to London for the Season, but that would never have been under duress. Now, however, it seemed as though she would be compelled to do so, forced to find a suitable match simply to ease the whole situation with the Duke.
“I think I have heard enough.” With great dignity. Lady Haddington rose to her feet. The gentleman struggled to follow suit, perhaps a little surprised at how abruptly the lady had stood. Florentina immediately hurried to her mother’s side, taking her arm.
