Page 9 of Duke of Silver
“I beg your pardon?” Lady Elizabeth whispered, her voice barely audible, as though she could not comprehend what she had just heard.
“Did we hear you correctly, Sterlin?” Dowshire asked, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward, scrutinizing the Duke.
“I shall marry your niece in my brother’s stead, Lord Dowshire,” Alexander said, his authority clear.
CHAPTER 4
“In light of the fact that there is no other option, I give my consent,” Sebastian said, and Elizabeth could hardly believe her ears.
She stood, frozen, as her uncle’s words echoed in her mind. It was one thing to learn that the man responsible for her ruin had fled, abandoning his duty. But now, she was being handed over to that man’s brother instead.
“Wait. You cannot simply say that, Uncle,” Elizabeth protested, her voice rising in desperation. “I cannot marry the Duke. He didn’t... I–”
“May I have a word in private with your niece, Lord Dowshire?” Sterlin’s voice interrupted her, firm and unwavering.
Sebastian hesitated, clearly torn. Elizabeth’s heart raced. How could her uncle even consider this arrangement? How could she marry a man who wasn’t responsible for what had happened?
“Lord Dowshire?” the Duke prompted again.
With reluctance, Sebastian nodded, gesturing for Petunia and Anna to follow him out of the room. Elizabeth felt a surge of panic as they left, leaving her alone with the Duke. The door remained open, but it was small comfort. The reality of the situation loomed large.
The moment the others were gone, Elizabeth rounded on him. “Is this some kind of joke to you, Your Grace?” she demanded.
The Duke remained composed, his expression unreadable. “I just offered to save your reputation and that of your family by taking responsibility for my brother’s actions. How is that a joke, Lady Elizabeth?”
“Do not make it sound as though you are doing us a favor,” she snapped, though inwardly, she could not deny the truth of his words. Hewasdoing her family a favor, an enormous one, in fact. But the thought only stoked her frustration further. How could she be grateful when this was never the life she wanted? She hadn’t asked for this.
“As you wish,” he replied, unruffled. “But our marriage would be one of convenience, of course. I will not be accepting your dowry, and your uncle shall receive a monthly stipend from my estate.”
Elizabeth recoiled at his words. “We do not need your charity,” she replied hotly, her pride bristling at the implication. Was it so obvious to him, the state of their finances? Her uncle had beendiscreet in his efforts to secure investments, but apparently, word had spread.
Sterlin’s eyes met hers, calm and unwavering. “This is not charity, Lady Elizabeth,” he said, his tone dry. “The funds are to cover whatever damages this scandal will bring upon your uncle’s business. I suspect it will be some time before society is willing to engage in business with him again.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat as the Duke’s words hit their mark. The room felt suffocating, her chest tight with the realization that she had no choice but to accept this proposal. As much as her pride flared, as much as she wished to rail against the injustice of it all, she knew the truth.
Accepting it, however, was far more difficult than she could have imagined.
“I understand and accept the monthly stipend,” she said, standing as tall as her trembling frame would allow. “But youmusttake the dowry. It is only proper.”
“I do not want it,” he replied with a casual shrug, and the ease with which he dismissed her only fueled the irritation she had been struggling to suppress.
Before she could voice her frustration, however, the Duke continued, his tone brisk and authoritative. “I shall secure a special license as soon as possible. The wedding shall be a small affair. Now, do you have any further demands?”
Elizabeth’s hands clenched at her sides. The way he spoke—so decisive, so dismissive—ignited a fire within her. Did he think she had no voice in this? That she was to be led like a lamb to the altar without so much as a say in her own fate?
“You cannot just waltz in here and make all the decisions,” she snapped, stepping closer to him, her heart pounding with indignation.
Sterlin, however, did not flinch. Instead, he took a deliberate step toward her, closing the distance between them in a single, fluid motion. The suddenness of it startled her, and instinctively, she took a step back. Annoyed with herself for betraying even the slightest hint of anxiety, Elizabeth attempted to hold her ground.
But the Duke advanced once more, until she found herself pressed between his imposing figure and the end table against the wall. His gaze never wavered, locking her in place, his presence overwhelming and commanding.
Elizabeth swallowed, the nearness of him unsettling in ways she hadn’t anticipated. His proximity was unnerving, his eyes dark and unreadable as they bore into hers.
“Oh, but Ididask you, Elizabeth, if you had any further demands,” he said, his voice low, almost dangerous in its intensity.
Her breath caught, but she quickly found her voice again, weak as it was. “I do not recall giving you leave to address me so informally,” she whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.
“I do not need it,” he replied, his tone smooth, almost predatory. “Not when I intend to make you my bride.”
