Page 57 of A Virgin for the Duke of Depravity
“I will fetch the Earl,” the footman said, leaving her in the front sitting room.
Margaret took the opportunity to scan the room. It was mostly bare, with no bookshelves lining the walls. Unlike Leo and Aaron’s homes, there was no art on the walls. She wondered if the Earl had sold all of it as his fortune dwindled.
She ran her fingers over the dusty tables and tried to take in the estate as a whole. It seemed old and shabby, as if the Earl did not have enough servants to maintain it. She had never seen a home so dusty.
Her training at the convent made her want to get down on her knees and scrub the stone floors until they were clean. She could not fathom living in such squalor.
“Ah, I knew you would come around.” The booming voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
With only a slight hesitation, she turned to face her grandfather. He was positively beaming at her, as if this were a fortuitous situation that they had both found themselves in.
Perhaps it was fortuitous for the Earl. His face was notably brighter, his smile easier than it had been before. Now, he knew he had her pinned right where he wanted her.
His eagerness made her stomach sink as she realized that she was giving him exactly what her mother had deprived him of—obedience.
She should have allowed her friends to protect her as they had promised to do, but there was nothing to be done now. She tried to return her grandfather’s smile, but her efforts came up short.
“I have come to submit to your auction,” she said, seeing that he was waiting for an answer.
“Come, come. The bidders are already here, waiting for you. The auction won’t take place until tonight, but you can meet them now. We want them to see how beautiful you are, yes?”
Her grandfather took a step closer to her and offered her his arm. Margaret desperately did not want to follow him anywhere, and she most definitely did not want to meet the men who would bid for her hand in marriage.
But she was already here. She might as well see what the future held for her.
With a deep sigh, she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and allowed him to guide her deeper into Riley Manor. They walked past many rooms with closed doors, which she suspectedwere rooms that had fallen into disrepair, just as the front sitting room had.
Finally, he opened the door to a large ballroom where there were more men milling about than Margaret could have imagined. In a room with so many men, all staring at her as though trying to picture her with no clothes on, she felt small.
She felt the opposite of how she felt when Leo was around.
Her grandfather sensed her hesitation at the threshold and squeezed her hand. “You will be pleasant, and you will make the most of this opportunity. It would be such a shame if something happened to your dear friend’s child.”
“You would not harm the Duke’s wife,” she said, aghast at the outright threat.
He shrugged and gave her a chilling smile. “If not your Duchess friend, then perhaps the nuns you are so fond of. It would certainly be a pity if the convent were to catch fire.”
Margaret bit her tongue. She could stomach him threatening her, though it made ice run through her veins. But she could not tolerate the idea that someone else might suffer because she was unwilling to submit to him.
She would have to go through with this.
Trying to think about the benefits of an arranged marriage, as Theresa and Aaron had shown her through their own experience, she surveyed the men in the room. The two nearest her were deep in conversation, and they hardly looked up when she entered. One nodded in their direction, acknowledging them, but nothing more.
But it was not toward these men that her grandfather steered her. Instead, he led her toward a man sitting alone in the corner of the ballroom.
From the way his long legs unfolded beneath him, Margaret could tell that he was tall—and muscular, too. His long black hair fell into his eyes, but it only served to enhance his boyish look.
More alarming was the scar that ran down the left side of his face. Even from a distance, Margaret could tell that something serious had happened to him. Her stomach flipped when she saw his scar, but then she chided herself for thinking the worst.
Her best friend’s husband was also covered in scars, and yet he was not a bad man.
She tried to put on a smile as they approached the man. After all, he could be her future husband. Margaret did not want to make a bad first impression, but her smile felt forced.
“Christopher,” her grandfather greeted jovially. “Look who has just arrived in time for the auction of her hand in marriage.”
Christopher looked her up and down, the smile that once pulled at his mouth fading into a smirk. She felt like a piece of meat at the butcher’s shop. All of these men were examining every inch of her, from her breasts to her round hips.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Christopher said, but he made no move to take her hand. His voice was even, and he did not seem interested in her in the slightest.
