A Duke's Despair (The Unforeseen Lovers Book 3)

by Lily Holland

  Tears swell in my eyes and I can’t even bear to look at my father. I turn to the window and my throat dries thinking the Duke’s carriage rode down the alley not an hour ago.

  “You have to trust me, Lucy, I would have never thus jested had I known he would actually be considering it!”

  “Then you have to call the deal off!” I eruct and point a finger at him. “Tell him it was all in jest, that you’re sorry but you can’t accept, that you won’t do it and nothing can convince you!”

  “I can’t do this, Lucy.”

  I might faint. My father’s words are making me shake from head to toe and I am close to throwing up on the expensive Persian carpet.

  “Why not?!” I scream.

  “I am a man of words, I can’t go back on my word once it has been given, it would destroy my reputation and put a dent in future business agreements.”

  “I don’t care about future agreements!” I shout. “You are selling me like a vulgar mare at the market!”

  My father takes a step toward me but I step back, my eyes wide as I realize he doesn’t intend to offer me any solution to escape my terrible fate.

  “How can you do this? I hate this man! I have been hating him for years, you knew that!”

  “I know,” he admits and I can see an honest sadness darkening his features. “I understand your despair, trust me, I do. But, unfortunately I can’t do anything anymore.”

  I snort.

  “I will never marry him. I don’t care if you have given your word, in the end it remains my life and my choice and I will not marry a man I hate.”

  My father sighs and walks to me. He presses his hands to my shoulders and details my face in silence. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, my disarray isn’t a secret and, if he loves me as much as he likes to pretend he does, it must be hurting him.

  “You have to believe me, Lucy, when I say I am deeply sorry. Of course, you are free to marry whoever you choose, but I would like you to think before you refuse Mirabeau. You might despise him, but he is a Duke and he is rich.”

  “I don’t care about that!” I shout and he quiets me with a firm squeeze on my shoulder.

  “You would become a Duchess, Lucy, the mistress of a large estate.”

  “I don’t care about that!” I insist and he sighs, letting go of me and walking to the window.

  He loses himself in the contemplation of the sky outside and I can’t help new tears from spilling from under my eyelids.

  “You don’t today because you are young and beautiful, but securing your position wouldn’t be a bad idea. He is only a few years older than you and he is one of the best prospects you might ever have for marriage. You will have offers, I don’t doubt it, but he offers you a duchy. I don’t like the man much myself, but I know a good opportunity when I see one…”

  I am so angry I have to focus very hard not to break every single object in the room.

  “I don’t care!”

  I turn and leave the room slamming the door in my back. I run to my room and meet my mother in the staircase.

  “Darling, what is happening? Why are you screaming?”

  She gets a glimpse at my face and her eyes go wide.

  “Why are you crying? What has happened?”

  I ignore her and run to my room. I throw myself on the bed, burying my face on the velvety cover but knowing all too well nothing will stop my tears. If there is one man I would never consider marrying, the Duke of Peicester is that man. I would rather die than become his wife.

  Chapter 5

  Miss Lucy Devinan

  I stare at my mother as she smiles.

  “I think it would do you good, Lucy! The monastery is renowned for its grandiose architecture.”

  I glare at my father not saying a word beside mama.

  “If you say so…”

  I nod at my aunt and uncle as I stand up to leave the room.

  “Lucy, you—”

  “Let her go, my love,” says my mother, interrupting my father. “Surely she wishes to change for the ride.”

  She smiles at him and he accepts but his jaw is clenched.

  Ever since he told me of his deal selling me off as a bride to the only man I hate more than the Devil himself, we haven’t talked much. I answer him when he has a question but my replies are short and to the point. No more ‘papa’, but a polite ‘father’.

  When he had to tell my mother of the agreement he settled without my consent, she was furious. I had never heard them shouting at each other that way before. Yet, it subsided after a few days and my father’s arguments seem to have convinced her that the Duke’s title could actually be a great benefit for me.

  The last time I complained to her about father, she simply shrugged and argued men have their own conception of marriage and that living a happy one is probably preventing my father to imagine it can be a terrible situation to marry without love.

  I go to my room and change into my riding clothes. I am not stupid, my aunt and uncle coming to visit at such a time isn’t a coincidence. My uncle is a knight, he has many connections and I am certain there is one among them that happens to be a Duke with blue eyes and an empty heart.

  This trip to the old monastery is a trap, I know it and yet, I can’t escape it.

  I am about to head downstairs when someone knocks on my door.

  “Yes?”

  My father makes his way in and he eyes me uncomfortably. He stands in front of me and we stare at each other for long, silent minutes.

  “Yes?” I repeat.

  He opens his mouth to answer but before a sound can escape his throat, he shakes his head and takes a step forward. He grabs my hand and holds it softly.

  “I know you are angry at me, sweet Lucy, but I hope you can put away your resentment for a time. Your aunt and uncle only have honest intentions…”

  I sigh and close my eyes. I can feel my entire body slumping on the spot. I don’t want to feel weak because of what I might have to do. If I were to marry Mirabeau, my father’s word would be observed and I would become a Duchess, which—apparently—seems to be satisfying enough for my parents to seriously consider the match. If, on the other hand, I were to refuse the Duke, I would earn the reputation of a silly girl, someone whose spirit is romantic enough to refuse the promise of a position matching no other.

  In both cases, I am facing dire consequences and I resent my father for his stupidity and unwelcomed pride.

  “I know,” I say and clear my throat. “I’m sorry if I have been cold to them. Going to the old monastery will probably prove to be entertaining.”

  My father nods and presses his thumb to my knuckles.

  “I think so, but I want you to know. Someone else will be joining you today and—”

  I shake my head to interrupt him and take my hand away from his.

  “Don’t worry, father. I don’t intend to be an embarrassment to my uncle and aunt. If the Duke is there, I shall be perfectly polite.”

  My father sighs but he nods in agreement.

  “I wish things were different, Lucy, you have to believe me.”

  I nod frankly and stare at him.

  “I believe you.”

  He knows there is nothing else to add, I am cold enough for anybody to be frozen to the core. He bows his head slightly before taking his leave and I follow him out, joining my aunt in the great hall.

  I might be polite with the Duke, but there is no chance I will be nice to him. I am pretty sure spending time with him will be a dreadful ordeal, but it is my opportunity to tell him how much I despise him. He might be a business man willing to agree to unusual deals to get his end, I am pretty certain he is also very proud. And no man can stand to hear the woman he expects to take as his wife hates him like the plague.

  The carriage my father has lent my aunt and uncle takes the three of us to the old monastery. I have visited it twice before and every single time, I feel compelled by its grandeur. I like ancient buildings, I find them charged with H
istory, every wall seems to have a story to tell and I dream of being able to listen to them all.

  When we park in the main alley, I realize a second carriage is already pulled on the side of the road. A chill runs over my spine but I do my best to appear calm and unmoved. I would wish to be so far from this place at the moment, I only hope this afternoon with the Duke of Peicester won’t spoil this ancient building in my heart.

  “Such a beautiful work of architecture!”, exclaims my aunt.

  “Very impressive, indeed.”

  My uncle touches his large mustache and nods in agreement.

  We admire the many facades of the building before going in and, as I had planned, my uncle feigns a fortuitous meeting with the Duke.

  “Why, the Duke of Peicester! If it isn’t a surprise!”

  The two men shake hands and I grit my teeth close to my aunt.

  “Sir Devinan, an interesting coincidence indeed.”

  He turns to my aunt and I and bows respectfully.

  “Lady Devinan, Miss Devinan.”

  “Your Grace.”

  We exchange a gauging gaze and I am unable to say what is in his mind.

  My uncle hurries to talk to the gentleman while my aunt and I continue our stroll around the rooms of the monastery. After a few minutes, we all end up in the garden, picking a path around the park to walk enjoying the bright sun and the light breeze of the day.

  As I expected, my uncle takes upon himself to hold back my aunt so that the Duke and I can be allowed some private moments.

  “It is a beautiful park.”

  I nod and, for a second, my throat is too dry to talk. As I am walking next to him, I can only reflect I shouldn’t have come. I am uncomfortable, and, from the tone of his voice, I guess he isn’t feeling much better. It intrigues me somehow.

  “Yes.”

  I hear him sighing next to me but only slightly, like he didn’t expect for me to hear.

  We walk for another couple of minutes in a deep silence and I inhale a deep breath, gathering all the courage I can muster.

  “My father informed me of your little arrangement,” I say on as even a tone as I can conjure.

  At once, he stops walking and turns to me. He reviews my face as I keep my gaze on the trees at the edge of the park.

  “He has?”

  “Yes, he has.”

  I look at him and what I see is far from what I expected to be finding. He looks… annoyed?

  “I see. You must find it strange of me to accept such an offer as his.”

  My brow creases and I review his face, my eyes locking with his.

  “Strange?” I repeat.

  “Well, yes, strange.” He gestures forward for us both to resume our stroll before clasping his hands in his back. “We both know our feelings for each other are very… firm. I don’t wish to marry you any more than you do.”

  For the first time in his presence, I am speechless. A weight I didn’t know was that heavy lifts from my heart and I sigh in relief.

  “That’s quite interesting,” I admit in a softer tone. “Have you said so to my father?”

  He shakes his head and I see a smile appearing on his lips. His blue eyes turn to find my gaze and he shrugs.

  “Not yet, but I will soon.”

  I nod before rerouting my gaze to the green land of the park.

  “And will it change your decision?”

  He details me with a frown.

  “Many men’s actions do not mirror their feelings. You might not wish to marry me but feel compelled to do so.”

  He stops again next to me and looks closely at my face. My mouth dries out once more and I have a hard time swallowing at the lump in my throat.

  “Would you?”

  My lips open to offer him a definite ‘no’ but reality keeps me mute. After a long minute, I shrug.

  “I am not a man,” I say and his gaze calls my eyes back to his. “I might not wish for things to happen, and yet have no way to prevent them from happening.”

  “Surely you have a say in it.”

  I snort before shaking my head and staring at him. I have never faced him that way, from up close he is way less like the Devil I always picture him to be. His features are softer, his skin clearer, his eyes gentler…

  “I have as much of a say as any woman who has received the opportunity of marrying in a privileged position and whose father is a Lord.”

  He details me for another few minutes without speaking but, instead of what I expected to be seeing on his face, I can see no trace of disdain or spite. He simply studies me like he would a sheet in a ledger, mathematically, analyzing.

  I reroute my eyes to the floor and he nods slowly.

  “I see.”

  We resume to our walk and we barely speak for the rest of the afternoon. Strangely enough, our talk has opened my eyes to many things. Knowing he doesn’t want to marry me any more than I do is making me feel much better. Still, I know it isn’t enough for a man to turn his back on an interesting business agreement.

  He is a business man of repute, he is rich and getting richer through smart investments. This man isn’t stupid and, if I know anything about the men who are not stupid, it is that they always choose the solution that brings them as much money as possible.

  And if the Duke of Peicester chooses me, he gets an access to the mining ground he needs and a wife with an interesting dowry to add to his already buoyant fortune. I cannot predict the future, but I can say there are good chances he might set aside his personal feelings. Unfortunately for me.

  Chapter 6

  Andrew Mirabeau, Duke of Peicester

  Weeks pass and I hate every second of it. The more I think about it, the less I am able to figure the situation about. Unexpectedly, Lord Devinan hasn’t expressed any opposition to me marrying his daughter when I told him I was considering his offer with much seriousness.

  If anything, I didn’t expect that! I know the man to be haughty, somewhat snobbish and contemptuous with everybody, but I wouldn’t have thought him the kind of man able to give his daughter away in marriage to a man she hates only because it would allow her to become a Duchess. Somehow, it doesn’t ring true. Unless he fears coming back on his words would insult his honorable reputation. It’s possible but, again, I wouldn’t have thought him that kind of man.

  I get ready to head out and join my manservant outside. My horse is ready and I mount up to head to Lord Bower’s estate.

  When I get there, I am not surprised to find Lord Devinan with his wife and his daughter enjoying tea with my friend.

  I bow to greet the ladies and shake hands with the men. Lord Bower explains how happy he is to see me while Miss Devinan is lost in conversation with Lady Bower.

  It could be worse, she could be ugly.

  I have been making this observation many times these last few weeks. I know Marc and Ernest are not entirely wrong in their opinions. Lucy Devinan is young and beautiful. Her long, auburn hair catches every glint of the sun and her smile is always frank. She isn’t the kind of woman who can hide her feelings, when she smiles it has to reach her eyes or it isn’t a proper smile. At first, I hadn’t noticed, but her eyes are a very peculiar shade of green with golden flakes around the pupil making her gaze piercing and dazzling.

  She is very pretty, there is no denying it, but it’s not her appearance that bothers me, it’s her temper. I know from experience she can be petty and cold. Heartless would be a better word…

  I clear my throat as I focus on Lord Bower’s complaint about the last meeting in Parliament. Yes, Miss Devinan would be an interesting bride on the paper, but the reality is entirely different. She might be young and beautiful and rich, it doesn’t prevent her from being obnoxious and irritable. Still, she would make a decent bride for a Duke, not a loving one, but a decent one, an honest one.

  I sigh as I review her and her gaze crosses mine. I reroute my eyes and, I know, she does the same. Ever since my talk with her father, we have been meeting ‘
unexpectedly’ on various social calls. Most of the time, I am not expecting her to be there, but we are forced to breathe the same air. We don’t like each other, it’s plain on both our faces but until I can find a way to refuse this marriage and still obtain the mining rights to the Devinan soil, I have to comply with these meetings.

  “What about a stroll outside?”

  Everybody turns to Lady Bower pointing at the window.

  “The sky is clear and the air is warm! It would do us all good.”

  A small chatter spreads among the guests and everybody agrees to head to the green lawn and well-maintained trees.

  We walk under the warm rays of sunshine and it is agreeable enough for everybody to notice and share expressions of amazement.

  “It is such a fine spring weather,” exclaims Lady Devinan. “Don’t you think so, Lucy darling?”

  Miss Devinan smiles and nods with what appears as a pleased face.

  “It is,” she agrees, “I would wish for such weather every day of the year.”

  We all mingle together, some men gathering to discuss matters of various importance as most women take it as their cue to share gossips about the neighborhood.

  Intentionally or not, Lady Devinan deserts her daughter’s side to join another party and I am left with Miss Devinan on the path around the estate.

  “Everybody is amazed at the weather,” she says after a few minutes and I am surprised she is even willing to speak to me. “But it is the beginning of summer. Are we so British that we have to be bewildered by some bright sunshine?”

  I clear my throat before talking, her tone is so soft I have a hard time recognizing her for the woman I know she is.

  “Maybe you are right, Miss. On the other hand, one must admit such a warm weather isn’t customary, even for a late month of June.”

  She scoffs and looks at me swiftly before rerouting her gaze to the trees around us.

  “One might come to agree with you on this.”