Page 1 of Duke of Silver
CHAPTER 1
“Don’t you ever get tired?” Alexander Hunton, the Duke of Sterlin, sighed heavily as he downed the remainder of his drink. The fine brandy did little to soothe his mounting irritation.
The ball had become insufferable—loud, oppressive. He had retreated to this quiet salon to escape, but his solitude had been unceremoniously shattered by the very last person he wished to see.
“Why ever would I get tired of your pleasant company, Your Grace?” Georgianna Proctor, the Countess of Winston, cooed as she batted her eyelashes with exaggerated delicacy. Her fan swung idly before her chest, her movements purposeful, as if to draw attention to her bosom.
The widow had been relentless in her pursuit, never missing an opportunity to press her attentions upon him. And now, her persistence was grating. His patience, though vast, had its limits, and she was drawing dangerously close to breaching them.
Before he could utter a word in response, Georgianna smiled slyly. “Besides, it is only a matter of time before our companies become... permanent.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened, his mind stalling on the audacity of her words. She had grown bolder with each passing day. Her insinuations now bordered on the absurd.
“You sound remarkably certain of this permanence,” Alexander said, his tone clipped, though he maintained the appearance of calm.
“Oh, come now, Alexander.” She chuckled, a sound that grated on his ears.
“YourGrace,” he corrected, his voice firm. He would not allow such familiarity, especially from her. Not tonight.
Georgianna’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment, the smile wavering as she assessed him. But it quickly returned, a glint of challenge lighting her expression. “Alexander,” she repeated, defying him. Her voice took on a mocking lilt. “We are not children, you and I. We both know what you want.”
What I want?He barely managed to keep his composure, though the irritation surged beneath his cool exterior. She knew nothing of what he wanted.
“And what is it that you want, Georgianna?” He leveled his gaze at her, his voice edged with a weariness he could no longer hide.If she had hoped for a different response, she was bound to be disappointed.
For the briefest moment, her confidence wavered, her smile flickering. But she recovered quickly. “Why, I thought I made my desires quite clear from the start, Alexander,” she said, punctuating her words with another insufferable giggle. Her fan swirled with increased vigor, drawing his unwilling eye to the deep rise and fall of her chest.
“And I thought I made my position on the matter equally clear from the beginning,” Alexander returned, his voice cold. The words were harsher than he had intended, but enough was enough.
Her eyes flashed, her jovial air cracking. “Your jokes are never-ending, are they?”
“I assure you, I make no jokes,” Alexander said evenly. “And you know that well enough. There is no possibility—none—of your wishes ever becoming reality.”
She lifted her chin, that familiar air of superiority returning. “Those are not words befitting a man addressing his future duchess.”
A sudden chuckle escaped him, surprising even himself. The absurdity of the notion was finally too much to bear.
“My dear Georgianna,” he began, and to his dismay, he saw a flicker of hope in her eyes.
“You are about as close to becoming the Duchess of Sterlin as old farmer John is to getting crowned the King of England,” Alexander added, his words having a cold finality that he had no patience left to soften.
The transformation in Georgianna’s face was immediate. Anger, raw and unfiltered, clouded her once coquettish features, her eyes darkening as the reality of his words sunk in.
“You are insufferable, did you know that?” she spat, her voice trembling with outrage.
“Only too well,” Alexander agreed, his tone unyielding, though the weariness of the conversation was beginning to show. He had endured her incessant attempts at securing his favor long enough, and it had grown tiresome beyond measure.
“You will not get away with such mistreatment,” she continued, her voice catching on the edges of emotion. The poised countess was unraveling before him, her mask of charm cracking under the weight of her frustration.
“Mistreatment?” Alexander’s brows furrowed, the word igniting a sharp flare of anger in his chest. “Mistreatment is your incessant advances, despite my making my feelings abundantly clear from the start.” His voice was low, almost a growl, as he leaned forward. “I will not marry you, Georgianna.”
I will not marry anyone, he thought, though the words remained locked within him. Marriage, for him, was not a question of when, but rather, if.
Her lips trembled, and a tear, thick with defeat, slipped down her powdered cheek. She quickly caught it with a lavender satin handkerchief, her composure wavering with each ragged breath.
Alexander’s jaw clenched. Despite everything, there was a part of him that detested the sight of a woman in distress, especially if he was the cause. Yet, he knew no good would come from giving in to any shred of sympathy she sought to evoke. Not when her intentions were as transparent as they were.
“You are clearly not thinking straight,” she muttered, her eyes flicking to the decanter sitting atop the polished side table next to him. “It is the liquor talking. It must be,” she concluded, her voice thick with tears as more spilled over, staining her cheeks.
