Page 3 of A Duchess Disciplined (Dukes of Dominance #1)

CHAPTER 2

“Y our Grace, welcome,” the butler said. “The Duke of Reeds is anticipating your arrival.”

William Richards, the Duke of Sarsen, narrowed his green eyes and considered the house before him. There was nothing remarkable about the Duke of Reeds’s country estate. Even when William searched his memory, he could recall only a few scattered moments spent by a lake.

“He should be,” William said. “I sent him a missive informing him about my arrival.”

The butler looked suitably cowed. “Of course, Your Grace.”

William raised his hand to his wind-ruffled, brown hair to smooth it. Then, squaring his shoulders, he approached. He had come to find his promised bride, and the sooner he had her, the better.

The butler led William through the foyer and past the parlor. William’s eyes flitted through the rooms as they passed them. The country house was filled with polished, rosewood furniture, tapestries, portraits, and rugs. This dukedom was either prospering, or the debt collectors had not yet arrived. William suspected the former. If the Duke of Reeds was endangered by his creditors, the ton would already be awash with gossip about the man.

“His Grace and the ladies enjoy taking tea outside,” the butler said.

“I see.”

The butler opened the door and bowed. Behind the house was a long stretch of green, decorated with marble statues bought from Greece by the late Duke of Reeds. A pavilion had been pitched just beyond that, and even from this distance, William readily identified the Leedway siblings. They were all pale and dark-haired. He had not looked often at the ladies, but if they were not different ages, William would have found them indistinguishable.

Seeing his approach, Reeds rose and approached him. “Sarsen,” he said. “It has been some time.”

William nodded curtly. “It has.”

They shook hands, and Reeds tilted his head toward the table behind him. The man somehow managed to make even that small gesture appear simpering and proper. “Shall I introduce you to my sisters, or is your matter something which ladies ought not to hear?”

“The ladies may hear it, as it concerns them.”

The sooner this affair was settled, the better. Why waste time speaking with Sarsen and then relaying the information to his bride-to-be when he could simply address everyone at once?

A change seemed to come over Reeds. It was difficult to say precisely what it was, but the man’s features seemed to harden. “I see. Join us, then.”

William wondered if Reeds might challenge him after all. That seemed doubtful, though. Reeds was a mostly proper man who seemed to believe that a little rakish behavior was daring. He knew little about truly improper behavior.

William followed Reeds to the table, and introductions were made. His eyes fixed on Lady Dorothy, the eldest of the Duke of Reeds’s daughters. She was lovely enough, suitable for taking as a wife. Black curls framed Dorothy’s soft face, and her green eyes were brighter than the finest emerald. The lady’s white gown accentuated her firm, generous breasts and her slender waist. He wondered how she would look without her gown.

William seated himself to Reeds’s right. A nearby maid promptly offered him tea and biscuits. He would rather forego the pleasantries and have the whole affair finished. At its heart, marriage was just like a business transaction. It was best finished quickly and efficiently.

“Sarsen has not yet told me the purpose of his visit, but he assures me that it is a matter of importance to you as well as me,” Reeds told his sisters.

“Is it?” Lady Catherine asked, raising an incredulous brow.

William knew of her by reputation. She was supposedly the most spirited of the Leedway daughters. Spirited was what men said in polite company, of course. In less polite company, they called her obstinate. Some even said that she was in need of a firm hand, which William could believe readily enough.

“It is,” William said, glowering at the young woman. “As you may or may not be aware, I became the Duke of Sarsen a few years ago. It took some time to gain my bearings, so to speak.”

“Understandably,” Reeds said.

William had carefully rehearsed what he wanted to say to the Duke of Reeds and his sisters, and he would prefer that Reeds not interrupt him. He had neither the time nor the inclination to listen to the man’s empty, sympathetic platitudes.

“Now that the dukedom is flourishing, I have decided that I will take a wife. Not only do I have a duty to produce an heir, but my younger sisters are in sore need of a maternal presence. Their governess is insufficient.”

“Is this your urgent business?” Reeds asked, sounding confused.

Reeds clearly had no idea what was coming. That was unsurprising but irritating.

“It is.” William produced the ragged piece of paper from his jacket and offered it to Reeds. “I found this contract among my father’s possessions. I am promised a bride, specifically Lady Dorothy, and I have come to collect her.”

“ What ?” Lady Dorothy asked, all the color draining from her face.

“I see that you were unaware of this agreement,” William said. “Nevertheless, I intend to see it fulfilled.”

“It is our father’s signature,” Reeds said. “I would recognize it anywhere!”

“That cannot be true!” Lady Dorothy exclaimed.

“You want to marry my sister?” Lady Bridget asked.

Lady Dorothy nearly leaped to her feet and joined her brother, her eyes wild as she read the paper over his shoulder. Lady Bridget quickly joined the pair. Only Lady Catherine remained in her chair.

William crossed her arms. He supposed he ought to have anticipated their surprise, but it was still vexing.

“Well, you were not a disappointment,” Lady Catherine said, sipping her tea.

“I did not come here hoping to entertain you, my lady,” William said. “And this matter does not concern you—only your sister Lady Dorothy.”

“This cannot be—I knew nothing of this contract,” Reeds murmured, sounding disbelieving. “If this were legitimate, I am sure that I would know about it.”

“I hope that you are not implying I forged this document,” William said, fixing Reeds with a fierce stare. “I can assure you that I have not, and I hope that you have the good sense not to keep me from what is rightfully mine. It would be a dreadful embarrassment if we were forced to settle this matter before the public.”

“I was not implying that,” Reeds said, still sounding as though he did not quite believe what William had said. “It is only that…you wish to marry my sister.”

Had Reeds always been so feckless? The man was not even really fighting, just floundering like a fish!

“Marriage to Lady Dorothy is the most advantageous choice for me. Give the history between our families, I cannot imagine any reason for your objection, unless Lady Dorothy’s previous Season was more successful than I had heard.”

He knew that he was right. None of the Leedway daughters had managed to secure a husband. Reeds ought to be glad that William was willing to take one of his unwed sisters as his bride.

“Charming,” Lady Catherine said. “I cannot fathom why you must depend upon a contract to find a suitable duchess. Certainly, ladies must be swooning in your presence, tearing one another to pieces for a chance to marry you.”

William fixed his gaze on the younger Leedway sister, who smirked at him. “And with your sharp tongue, I imagine that all the lords in Britain are begging to be your lord,” he said.

Her smirk only widened. The insolence of her! William hid a smile. Some man would have an enjoyable time, indeed, crafting that brazen young woman into a proper lady and wife. It was almost a pity that his bride was to be the demure Lady Dorothy, instead of this fiery creature. While the rest of her family simpered in disbelief, Lady Catherine had decided to be sharp and angry instead.

William would delight in bringing Lady Catherine over his knee, hitching her skirts past her waist, and teaching her to be a proper duchess with his hand. He imagined her pale face flushed with color, as he pinkened her buttocks with every strike. His loins stirred in anticipation.

“My brother does not have to honor this contract,” Catherine said. “It does not matter if our father wrote it. He is the Duke of Reeds, and he decides who my sister will wed!”

“Perhaps, you should consider it,” Lady Bridget murmured. “It might be romantic!”

William was not a romantic man. “If your brother values his title and reputation, he will do exactly as I ask. I only want what is mine and what has been promised to me.”

“My sister does not wish to wed you,” Catherine said. “If you were a good man, you would care about that! You would not marry a woman who does not desire to be your wife!”

He crossed his arms and forced his attention to Lady Dorothy. Her face fell, and she glanced about her like a trapped animal searching for escape. “Your Grace, I mean no offense. There is no fault to be found in you. It is only that I do not envision myself marrying any man,” Dorothy said. “I have resolved to be a spinster, so I may better support my family.”

“As my duchess, you will have my sisters to care for. You need not find yourself without a family, my lady,” William said.

“That is hardly the same,” Lady Dorothy murmured, her shoulders slumping.

“You do not need to marry him,” Catherine said heatedly. “He has come to us with a piece of paper that we have neither seen nor heard of before this day. I am sure that we owe him nothing!”

“We cannot offend him!” Reeds argued. “An honorable man?—”

“An honorable man would give me the wife I was promised,” William finished, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Not that any of them seemed intent on arguing.

Except for Lady Catherine. Their eyes met across the table. Her smirk had faded. Instead, concern etched deep lines across her forehead. As she rose from her seat, Lady Catherine’s eyes never left his face. She strode slowly to him and tilted her head a little, as though she were a cat and he was some curiosity that she had found.

“You speak too boldly, my lady,” William said.

“Am I bolder than a man who demanded to join us and arrived with such startling news, so as to catch us unaware? You could have mentioned in your letter the purpose of your visit, yet you did not.”

“ Catherine ,” Reeds said warningly.

Catherine seemed to pay her brother no heed. Now, William understood the cause of the young woman’s defiance. Her brother had never bothered to teach her how to behave, how to be a proper lady. Reeds was too soft and had indulged this young lady until she believed herself equal to every man in the room.

William tilted his head towards her. She stood near him, allowing him a clear look at her slender figure. She was slighter than Lady Dorothy with a smaller bosom and less prominent hips. Still lovely, though. She was like a flower in full bloom, and with a more masterful hand, she might be molded into the perfect wife.

“And why, my lady, do you imagine that I was not more forthright?” William asked.

He felt as though the entire world was just himself and this brazen young lady. William took a step closer to her, so he towered over the young woman.

She lifted her chin, craning her head back to meet his eyes. William was sure that the position was uncomfortable, but Lady Catherine gave no indication of discomfort. “I believe that you enjoyed the thought of distressing us. You felt that it would be like—like some play upon a stage. You would arrive with some unexpected letter to start the third act.”

“I want what is mine,” he said in a low voice. “If you were promised a husband, I imagine you would be equally vexed at having that promise reneged upon.”

“We are not reneging on it,” Reeds said. “I wish to send for my solicitor, though. That is reasonable for all parties.”

It seemed as though Reeds had grown a spine.

Lady Dorothy fidgeted with her gown. “There is our family?—”

“Surely, it is not the third act already,” William interrupted, turning his attention back to Lady Catherine. “This is surely one of Shakespeare’s comedic interludes, rather than a dramatic moment.”

What other metaphor might be used to describe a family clucking like hens and refusing to launch a proper defense, save for one foolish slip of a lady?

“Is it? Which play are you thinking about?”

“ A Midsummer Night’s Dream .”

“Are you Puck?” Lady Catherine asked.

“Do you believe I am Puck?”

Lady Catherine smiled. “I do not think you want me to answer that question, Your Grace.”

He kept his expression cold and composed. William strongly suspected that Lady Catherine meant to insult him, perhaps by suggesting that he was the character of hapless Nick Bottom, who was transformed into a man with an ass’s head. She thought she was clever, did she?

William desired nothing more than to remove that smirk from her pretty face, the foolish girl. His palm twitched. He ached to correct that haughty behavior over his knee. Would it not be enjoyable to teach this woman the pleasures of the bedroom, which he knew well, and to mold her into a perfect Duchess of Sarsen?

“Enough!” William snapped.

Beside him, Lady Catherine started. Her blue eyes widened, and she took an uneven step backward. “Your Grace—” Her voice was nearly reproachful.

William stood and raked his hand through his hair, shaking away the few dark brown strands that caught on his fingertips. “Enough,” he repeated. “I would expect that the Duke of Reeds would be more dignified. Instead, you simper and argue, and you let this disgraceful slip of a girl insult me! Think of your father’s memory. He wanted this marriage. Why should you refuse him?”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Even Lady Catherine seemed to have lost all her words. The Duke of Reeds worked his jaw and shook his head.

“This matter concerns my family, and we must think carefully about the consequences of honoring our father’s contract with you,” he said, his words measured. “Given that you have sisters of your own, I am sure you understand my reasons for hesitation. I do not imagine that you would wed them to a man who you scarcely know.”

“You do know me,” William argued.

“We have not been in one another’s company for some time,” Reeds insisted, glancing towards Lady Catherine. “While it is true that our families were once staunch allies, that is no longer true. I will not gamble with my sister’s happiness.”

Interesting. It seemed as if the young woman held such sway over her brother that he would bend to her wishes. This entire household was amiss.

“I see.”

“You are welcome to stay at our estate,” Reeds continued, “while we decide if we wish to honor our father’s agreement. If you desire otherwise, we will send word for you once we have reached our decision.”

William clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the duke coldly. Reeds glanced at his sisters, his expression frantic. It was obvious that the man drew courage from them. What a soft-hearted man!

“I will remain here and sample your hospitality,” William said. “Perhaps, by the time you have decided to honor your father’s wishes, we will know one another a little better. We are to be brothers, after all. I respect your love for your sisters and will allow you time to consider my proposal. In the meantime, I will stay here and enjoy your hospitality.”

He would wait for the solicitor, if only because the law would support his claim. William was owed a bride, and it would be easier to get her if he humored Reeds this once.

“Will you?” Catherine asked.

“Yes,” Reeds said, shooting his sister a fierce look.

William nearly rolled his eyes. It was far too late for Reeds to try to rein in this young miss. He should have done that ages ago.

“My sisters and I will thoroughly discuss the matter,” Reeds said.”

“I imagine so,” William said. “I should like to be shown to my bedchamber now. I assume that your butler knows where it is?”

Eventually, Reeds would agree. As Lady Dorothy had suggested, refusing to honor the contract would mar the Leedway family’s reputation, especially if William chose to inform the rest of the ton about the contract’s existence. Despite Reeds’s unbecoming behavior, William felt a begrudging spark of admiration for the man, who so clearly loved his sisters. In another time and place, they might have even been friends.

“Geoffrey,” Reeds said, gesturing to the family’s butler.

“This way, Your Grace,” the butler said.

William dared a glance at Lady Catherine, who met his intense stare with one of her own. As he let the butler escort him to the bedchamber, it was her face and voice that lingered in his mind. She was unlike any woman he had ever met among the ton and real in a way that most ladies were not.

“Thank you,” William said. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my ladies, and to become reacquainted with you, Reeds.”

Reeds smiled thinly. “Likewise.”

William followed the butler, who bowed formally. “It is my honor to escort you to your bedchamber, Your Grace.”

“How kind,” William replied.

As he approached the bedchamber, his trousers grew tighter. It had been far too long since William had engaged in a manner of amorous exercise, and he strongly suspected that he would spend the night dreaming, fantasizing, wanting Lady Catherine.

It was unfortunate that she was not destined to be his wife. Lady Dorothy was lovely and unobtrusive, like a fine piece of art, but Lady Catherine was as bright and lively as flame.