Page 8 of A Duchess Disciplined (Dukes of Dominance #1)

CHAPTER 7

R eeds’s solicitor was a slight, simpering man whom William could only describe as disheveled . A more generous man might have assumed that travel was the reason for the solicitor’s rumpled clothing and disarrayed hair, but William suspected that Mr. Davies was simply a man who lived in a state of general chaos. The man had brown eyes that darted this way and that, as though he anticipated some unknown assailant leaping from behind the door and accosting him.

Still, Reeds would not have employed this timid, pathetic man if he was not intelligent. William crossed his arms and scowled at Mr. Davies, who read the contract with agonizing slowness.

“Well?” William demanded. “It is legitimate, is it not?”

Mr. Davies glanced at Reeds. The three men were alone together in Reeds’s study. Reeds had offered them both brandy. William and Mr. Davies had declined, but Reeds had nonetheless poured himself a glass. William suspected that Reeds was anxious and wanted something to distract from it, for he had drunk little of the brandy and instead paced the floor, swirling the glass in his hand as though he had never seen spirits before.

“What do you think?” Reeds asked softly. “I have never heard of this agreement before.”

“It is your father’s signature,” Mr. Davies confirmed. “I would recognize that anywhere.”

“Is it possible that it is…” Reeds trailed off, shooting William an anxious glance. “A forgery?”

William’s scowl deepened. “A forgery,” he said flatly. “As though I would ever resort to such desperate measures to secure a bride. It is fortunate that we are to be brothers, Reeds, or I would consider such an accusation to be an affront on my honor.”

“I did not mean it like that,” Reeds replied quickly.

“In what manner did you mean it, then?” William asked. “Do you mean to insinuate that my father forged the signature?”

“No,” Reeds muttered.

The man’s continued protestations were becoming tiring. Of course, Reeds ought to think of Lady Catherine’s best interests, but she could do far worse than marrying a wealthy duke. If Reeds would just accept the terms of this agreement, it would be best for all involved.

“Then, you agree it is legitimate, Mr. Davies,” William said.

The solicitor started, as though he had not anticipated being spoken to. “It does appear that way,” the man said, his voice shaking. “Apologies, Your Grace.”

Reeds cast Mr. Davies a mournful look. “There is no need to apologize. Your trade is the law, not in pleasing me,” he said. “I wish that I had been made aware of this agreement earlier. That is all. It seems rather sudden.”

“I wish to have the marriage contract drawn up at once,” William said. “Your solicitor, I assume, is capable of doing that.”

“Yes,” Reeds said.

“Once we have both signed, I shall leave,” William said. “In two weeks, I will marry your sister. Verdant Castle has a magnificent chapel that seems an appropriate place for such a wedding.”

“The preparations will need to be made quickly,” Reeds said. “And it will take some time for the ton?—”

“Does the ton need to be in attendance?” William asked. “It seems to me as though your sister has no reason to desire their presence at her nuptials.”

Lady Catherine was not only a most improper lady, but she had just finished a failed Season. William supposed that was to his benefit, for of the available options, Lady Catherine did seem the most suited to his tastes.

“I suppose not,” Reeds said, “but my sister is only going to be married once. I would like for her wedding to be proper. I do not want her to feel as though her marriage is simply…a hasty, piecemeal affair.”

Reeds was clearly trying to bid for time, doubtlessly hoping that he would be able to escape this contract, even with the mounting evidence that he could not without disgracing his name and that of his sisters.

“It will not be,” William said firmly. “I shall ensure that your sister receives an adequate wedding. Now, if Mr. Davies would be so kind as to draw up the contract for us…”

* * *

With the stroke of a pen, the matter was done. In two weeks, William would marry Lady Catherine in Verdant Chapel. He would have a wife, and his dearest sisters would finally have the feminine presence that was so desperately needed in the household.

Having achieved his goals, William wanted to leave with all haste. Doubtlessly, Reeds and his sisters would be upset. They would want to exchange mournful farewells, as though Lady Catherine was being sent to the gallows rather than to a prosperous marriage.

As he approached the foyer, he found Lady Catherine waiting for him. His lips twitched in amusement, for she reminded him in that moment of a proper lady seeing off her husband. William knew that Reeds had already informed his sisters of the marriage contract, while William was left with the simpering, anxious solicitor.

“My lady,” William said.

“Your Grace.”

“I shall see you in two weeks,” he said. “You need not worry about the state of the wedding. It will be more than adequate for you.”

“Indeed, an adequate and quick wedding.” Lady Catherine clasped her hands behind her back and took a step towards him, her eyes searching his face for a long moment. “How romantic.”

“It will be. My sisters would be upset if I brought home a bride and did not provide them with a proper wedding to celebrate.”

“Even my own wedding is not mine,” Lady Catherine said dryly.

“Is it ever really for the bride’s sake?” William asked. “’It seems to me as though weddings are largely for the ton, so all the lords and ladies can gossip about who had the most extravagant showing.”

“I suppose.” Lady Catherine paused and furrowed her brow. “I would ask that you think more about this.”

“I shall not. You have agreed to be my wife, and the contract is signed. I am sure that I need not remind you of what damage may come to your reputation if you refuse to marry me now.”

“It is not that,” Lady Catherine said. “Your sisters…I am not a maternal woman. I cannot be a mother to them. I have never wanted that, and I am ill-suited for that role. If you truly wish to find a bride for their sake, you should reconsider your decision.”

William crossed his arms. He strongly suspected that Lady Catherine would be displeased with him if he announced instead his ready agreement to marry Lady Dorothy. She did seem like the mothering sort. It was a pity that Lady Catherine was the more interesting sister.

William shook his head. “I am not asking you to be their mother. You will be a guardian, a female presence that my sisters sorely want and need in their lives. That is all I request of you.”

“I see.”

“I trust that you will be adequate for that.”

“You keep saying adequate , as though that is sufficient,” Lady Catherine said. “As though you want better—wish you might have better—but know that you cannot.”

“I am realistic.”

Lady Catherine nodded, and a determined look crossed her face. “I wish to make a contract with you.”

William laughed darkly. “My lady, we have already made our contract.”

“I want a stipulation.”

“I might humor you.”

“I will try to be a good female presence for your sisters, and I will try to be a worthy duchess in public,” Lady Catherine said. “However, in private I wish to be myself and only that.”

William arched an eyebrow. He imagined Lady Catherine as the Duchess of Sarsen, prim and proper like a lady ought to be. When he tried to imagine the wild, sharp-tongued lady demurring to him and smiling vaguely in that way ladies did when they were trying to be inoffensive, William found that he could not do it. He strongly suspected that Lady Catherine would flounder wondrously at such things.

As the Duke of Sarsen, he would need to correct such behavior. Lady Catherine could be a proper duchess, but she lacked the discipline to become one without assistance. His assistance, of course. William smiled and wondered how long it would take Lady Catherine to make a misstep worth correcting.

“Perhaps, I have a stipulation on that,” he said, letting his voice become low and husky. “If you are not a good duchess in public, I have leave to correct your behavior. Again and again until I see satisfactory results.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He took a step towards her, and Lady Catherine trembled nearly imperceptibly. Color rose to her cheeks, and William knew that her pulse was racing. “Come closer,” he purred. “I have found only one method that works for making a wild woman behave. This is not a negotiation.”

They were so near that he could kiss her. His eyes darted down to her plump, coral lips—slightly parted—and an urge to do precisely that seized him. Oh, he ought to be gentlemanly, but what would change if he was not? He and Lady Catherine were already to be wed, and they were alone. She must have sent the butler and maids elsewhere to ensure that she could send him off alone. What a wicked girl!

“I do not know what you mean, Your Grace,” she said.

She was doing this on purpose, goading him. William growled and pressed his mouth forcefully against hers. Lady Catherine moaned into his mouth, and he wrapped his arms around her. She kissed him harshly back in a haphazard attempt to gain dominance. A low chuckle rumbled through William’s throat, and he let a hand cup her right breast. She gasped into his mouth and took fistfuls of his jacket.

William reached inside that sinfully low-cut bodice and roughly traced his thumb around her nipple, raising it to a rosebud peak. Lady Catherine melted against him, her hips bucking and brushing against him. William pinched Lady Catherine’s nipple hard, and she cried against her mouth. The sound went straight to William’s hardening manhood, and he knew that he must end this before he could restrain himself no longer.

He gave her nipple a final pinch and her breast a parting squeeze. Then, he stepped back and clasped his hands behind him, the very picture of ducal sophistication. “Why did you…” Lady Catherine trailed off, her breath coming in great heaves. “Why did you stop?

Her face was flushed, and her lovely breasts rose above the bodice of her gown. The right one was still freed, the pink nipple rising defiantly from above the confines of the fabric.

“Make yourself presentable!” he barked. “A duchess does not allow herself to be so flustered.”

Her eyes widened, and her swollen lips remained parted in a manner that made William want to seize her again. Hastily, Lady Catherine pulled at the bodice of her gown. William’s pulse jumped as the lady struggled to work her freed breast back into her stays. At last, she did, but her dress still remained a little rumpled. The color across her face had spread down to her chest.

“You—you did that on purpose,” Lady Catherine rasped. “You made me flustered.”

“I presented you with a test that you failed miserably,” William replied, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “A proper lady would have pushed me away. I will see you in two weeks, my blushing bride. I am assuming that we have an agreement?”

She nodded mutely, her eyes wide.

William turned abruptly and walked away, aware of Lady Catherine watching his retreating back. It would be an interesting marriage, especially given that the lady was so willing. He smirked to himself. Lady Catherine had already exceeded so many of his expectations.