Page 10 of A Duke for Hire (The Devil’s Masquerade #1)

CHAPTER TEN

“ V ery good,” Martin Jarvis, Earl of Repington, mused, walking a circle around Seraphina.

Seraphina’s spine snapped so rigid that it became painful, but she forced her smile to stay in place. She glanced at her mother, who only bounced giddily on her feet as her daughter was perused.

“Yes, very good indeed,” the Earl stated, finishing his inspection. “How old is she again?”

I am right here, Seraphina thought angrily toward the older, graying man. Do you wish to check my teeth like a brood mare?

“Twenty-three, My Lord,” Mary answered cheerily.

The smile gracing Martin’s wrinkled face dropped a little.

“A bit old, is she not?”

“Any pray, My Lord, may I ask how old you are?” Seraphina asked, unable to keep her mouth shut any longer. To be examined like a farm animal for sale was one thing, but for someone who looked as old as he did to complain about her age was just a tad too much for her to stand.

“Seraphina!” Mary scolded, but Martin only chuckled.

“Plucky thing, isn’t she?” He asked Mary, then turned to Seraphina.

“I am fifty-five years young, my girl, and have many decades left in me, I have no doubt.”

“How lovely,” Seraphina replied with a tight smile.

“Pluck indeed,” Mary laughed nervously, rushing to the Earl’s side. “And aside from that, she has many other skills. Her piano playing is exemplary, her talent for water colors is blossoming, and she is very obedient to her elders.”

“I do not care much for skills in art,” Martin muttered, “But the pluck and obedience are quite appealing.”

He turned his attention toward Seraphina and grinned, leaning closer to her.

“Are you obedient, girl?” He asked of her.

Seraphina felt her insides begin to quake as she stared into the man’s pale eyes. Hundreds of words and phrases, none of them polite, flashed through her mind and tried to make their way to her tongue. She worked her jaw, feeling so much tension there that she thought her back teeth were going to crack.

“Yes, Lord Repington,” she was able to force out.

Martin grunted, then roamed his eyes up and down her person.

“Obedient, pretty, and plucky,” he murmured.

“Very well, then,” he said, finally taking a step back, “She appears in good order. Though I will be discussing an increased dowry with her father, His Grace.”

Offence roiled through Seraphina, but she said nothing as Mary stammered, “Oh, well, I am sure you will be able to reach an understanding.”

“We shall see,” Martin declared. “I shall want to see her at a dance or two. Make sure she conducts herself well in public as I will be touting my wife about from time to time. But other than that, I believe you have secured a husband, Miss Seraphina.”

Disappointment so intense that it made her dizzy filled Seraphina as she curtseyed toward him, while behind her, her mother clapped with delight.

“A wonderful choice, My Lord!” Mary crowed, “I assure you, you will be happy. Our Seraphina, she will make a perfect wife. You will see!”

You are always so tense, Seraphina…You try to be perfect. You don’t have to be perfect with me.

Hugo’s words whispered through Seraphina’s mind, and in that moment she felt every ounce of tension she was holding within her body. Everything ached, she realized, and a pounding headache had formed like a tight band around her skull.

Suddenly she craved his kiss. His company. And…that other thing he did that made her body feel as if it were floating.

“We will see indeed,” Martin replied, nodding a head toward them both.

“Mama, please,” Seraphina said hastily as soon as Martin left, “Not him.”

Mary’s wide smile vanished in an instant.

“Do not be ungrateful, Seraphina,” she warned. “Your father went to great lengths to secure that man’s interests, and after everything you have done lately to lower your chances, you have finally received a proper proposal! He shall make a fine husband.”

“He makes me uncomfortable!” Seraphina protested.

Mary scoffed.

“It is a woman’s lot in life to be uncomfortable, Seraphina. You are not looking at the bigger picture. He is over thirty years older than you! He has one good seed left in him, two at most, and he will depart this world well before you reach forty if the rumors of his drink and cigar addiction are true. With him, you will only have twenty years of discomfort, unlike your friends who will most likely wed to someone their own age. Then you will be a widow. A rich widow, and you will have your children, nearly grown by then. You will be free to live in comfort.”

Seraphina gaped.

“T-twenty years?”

“It is not so long, especially when you have children,” Mary sighed, eyeing her pointedly.

“Please,” Seraphina begged, “Let us consider someone else.”

“Who else, Seraphina?” Mary replied testily. “Everyone else is gone thanks to the Duke of Merrivale and his attention toward you.”

“Could we not reconsider him?” Seraphina asked, her heart skipping a beat at the idea. “He truly is kind to me, Mama. I know he is not as so with others, but with me he is-”

“ No,” Mary said with emphasis, cutting her off.

“That man is dangerous, even when he pretends not to be.”

Seraphina shook her head. “I do not believe so, Mama. Or if he was at one time, he is not so anymore.”

“I am not willing to take that chance with you!” Mary shot back, going to Seraphina’s side.

She clutched her hands tightly and gave her an intimidating stare.

“You and your naive ways,” she chastised. “You may not want to accept the truth of him because he has shown you kindness, but I do. That man has been involved in many duels, even rumored to incite them. He likes to kill, and I will not allow you to be one of his victims!”

Seraphina did not think her body could grow more tense, but as she felt her mother’s nails dig into her hands, heard the utter disgust in her voice, she felt her body clench even tighter.

“I do not believe it because I am naive, Mama,” she answered. “I do not believe it because of what the Duke has shown me. He is a kind man at heart. A rich man who could take care of me, as you want for me. And already that talk of him is fading. Theo and I heard just the other day that he is making many men of the ton here richer already. He could be a good husband!”

“It is a play, you dim girl,” Mary answered cruelly, “And if you do go against us and marry him you will end up on the streets, I guarantee it. And so help me, Seraphina, when you do, neither I nor your father will help you. We will leave you there. Am I understood?”

Seraphina bit her lower lip, feeling a rip form right down her middle. She did not know who to trust. Who to believe. And she was running out of time.

“Very well, Mama,” she said hoarsely. “I shall marry the Earl.”

“Look up.”

Tristan looked up from his desk, just in time to see a leather portfolio flying at his head. He caught it just before it collided with his forehead, and glared at Hugo.

“What is this?” He asked.

“Your profits from our last endeavor,” Hugo said, taking a seat across from him. He smirked with triumph. “It turned out better than expected.”

Tristan raised a dubious brow, and Hugo felt a sense of glee as his friend’s eyes widened at the copious bank notes inside.

“My God,” Tristan muttered.

“It would be blasphemous to accept such a title,” Hugo sighed, “Though I would accept a slightly less pious moniker.”

Hugo chuckled at his own retort. His sense of accomplishment had been absolutely radiating as of late, and he was finally starting to accept that his temporary move to London was perhaps not as bad as he may have feared. He had money. He had Seraphina- or at least he was about to. And despite the rumors, he was drawing in more business.

“Hugo, this is incredible,” Tristan said with awe.

“I don’t trust London banks,” Hugo replied, “I told you if you had a little patience I would get it done another way, and as you can see I have.”

“The other investors will be thrilled!” Tristan replied.

“Hugo nodded.

“No doubt. And the rumors that I am running a play among the London ton will diminish once their pockets are full,” Hugo said happily.

“You were right, Tristan, as was Leah. It was time for me to return to London. We should celebrate. Ask Theo is she would not mind snagging Seraphina from her mother’s clutches, would you? I thought perhaps we could take them to the Opera House.”

Tristan’s wide smile vanished within an instant.

“You have not heard.”

A shot of discomfort speared through Hugo’s happiness, and he shifted in his chair.

“Heard what?” He asked.

“Seraphina. She is to marry the Earl of Repington.”

Hugo’s smile dropped completely.

“No.” Flashes of their last time together poured through his mind Her soft whimpers. The melting of her body beneath his. Her explosion of pleasure upon his tongue. The woman was his .

“I am afraid so, old friend,” Tristan replied, his tone full of remorse. “They are not officially engaged, but he has been talking about it quite a bit at White’s. Railing on about the heavy dowry Seraphina’s father is paying him for the marriage. It’s going to happen.”

“The Earl of Repington,” Hugo sneered. “But he’s past fifty! And not even half as wealthy as I am!”

“You and I both know that is not what matters to Seraphina’s parents,” Tristan replied softly. “They need his reputation to save their own.”

“Petty lechers,” Hugo spat out, shooting to his feet. He began to pace, uncomfortable with the sudden emotion that had burst through his chest.

“You have to let it go, Hugo,” Tristan urged as Hugo began to pace the floor.

“The hell I will,” he snarled.

“Your reputation is shifting every day,” Tristan argued, “There are surely more young ladies opening their minds toward you. You will find another. One that is less complicated.”

“I don’t want another, I want her!” Hugo shot back.

Suddenly he stopped pacing, shook by his own confession. He turned toward Tristan, who gave him a confused look.

“Are you in love with her?” His friend asked.

Hugo felt a strange stir of emotion, even as he shook his head and let out an agitated noise through his teeth.

“I am not. But I do understand her. I believes she understands me too,” he replied.

Tristan took a step closer, studying him closely.

“What I do know is that I have laid my claim,” Hugo went on before his friend could study him further. “And what I want, I get.”

“And Seraphina?” Tristan asked. “What about what she wants? What if she wants Martin? Maybe her parents are right, Hugo. Maybe you need to just let this go.”

Done with the conversation, Hugo stepped toward the doors.

“If that’s what she wants I’ll give it to her,” he replied over his shoulder, “But until I hear it from her own lips, I shall continue my efforts.”