Page 7 of A Duke for Hire (The Devil’s Masquerade #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

“ I have heard talk, Seraphina,” Mary said coldly. “The Duke of Merrivale was escorting you at the art show the other night. I told you to stay away from him.”

“He certainly was not,” Seraphina retorted.

Her attention was drawn away from the passing scenery outside the carriage window as she heard her mother’s accusation.

“Is that why you are not letting me attend this evening’s ball with Theo and the others?”

“Do not lie to me,” Mary scolded. “And how ungrateful you sound! Most daughters would appreciate the company of their mothers at balls.”

Most Mothers are not like you.

Seraphina pressed her lips together to keep the comment to herself.

“He did not escort me, Mama,” she said after a moment, “I did not even know he was going to be attending. He walked with me around some paintings, but it was brief.”

Brief but passionate. Brief but infuriating. She was still put off by Hugo’s rudeness toward Lord Fellon, as well as the smugness he showed toward being her betrothed. But she could not deny that his kiss had been everything she had always hoped a kiss would be, nor could she deny that the man read her like an open book. She was drawn to him. Immensely.

“Well whatever it was, be sure there is not a repeat of it,” Mary huffed. “You finally have the attention of ton’s most eligible gentleman. You do not want to lose it by having his.”

This time Seraphina could not help the words that left her mouth. Even if was rude, she felt the urge to defend Hugo.

“It was his willingness to dance with me that gained me the favor of those gentlemen to begin with,” she reminded her mother. “If he was truly that terrible, do you not think that it would have had the opposite effect?”

“He is a Duke, Seraphina,” Mary replied, crossing her arms in frustration, “His station alone was what saved you, but if you keep entertaining his company, it is his reputation that will destroy you. Now I say again, stay away from him.”

The carriage stopped, and with it so did their conversation. As much as Seraphina wanted to continue to argue, she knew her mother was right. Acknowledgement of that filled her with disappointment, and as they walked into the ballroom, she found it difficult to smile.

She would not be marrying the Duke. It would not be good for her. Even if it did take her off the marriage mart, she would still be disdained by society. But part of her wondered if it truly mattered. Could the right marriage truly make the ton forget her questionable lineage?

“Ms. Kinderson, Miss Seraphina, how lovely to see you both.” Tristan stated.

Seraphina forced a smile as the Earl approached.

“Lord Briarwood, thank you for the warm welcome,” Seraphina replied as she curtseyed. “Have you been here long yourself?”

“Indeed,” he agreed, “And to be honest it has been quite dull. Until now.”

Seraphina joined him in his small chuckle, but Mary barely hid her displeasure. It was clear she only wanted attention from the higher- ranking nobles.

“I recall from my dinner party you are quite the elegant dancer, Miss Kinderson,” Tristan went on, seemingly undeterred by the scant courtesy of Mary’s greeting, “If your dance card is not already full, I would be honored to take your first of the evening.”

Seraphina looked toward her mother for permission, and she gave a begrudging nod. She indeed did not have any names on her dance card yet, and no doubt, Mary hoped the dance would encourage the others to remedy that.

“Is Theo here with you this evening?” She asked as Tristan guided her to the dance floor.

“I am afraid not,” he replied, “Our mother has come down with a cold and she was kind enough to stay and keep her company.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Seraphina replied, feeling her disappointment intensify. “I shall send flowers tomorrow to wish her a quick recovery.”

Tristan chuckled as they took their first steps into the dance, his smile handsome.

“You are such a kind woman, Seraphina,” Tristan praised, “No wonder Fenwick is drawn to you.”

Seraphina felt a tingle go up her spine at the mention of Hugo’s name, and her eyes immediately roamed the room. She found him in an instant, and as they locked gazes, she felt her heart begin to thud.

“Drawn or not, I have refused him,” she insisted, nearly missing a step as she forced her eyes away from Hugo. “My mother and the ton believe he would be bad for me, and I must agree with them.”

Tristan’s brows drew up in surprise as he stepped out to twirl her.

“It is not like you to follow the single-mindedness of this boring hive, Seraphina,” he replied. “Do you truly believe the rumors whispered about him? Especially after hearing all the awful things they say about you?”

Though she knew Tristan was only asking genuine questions, she still felt hurt slice through her at the mention of her own struggles.

“I will admit that the Duke has been kind to me, at times,” she replied, “But I have seen his temper flare and his overconfidence is astounding. And yes, the ton has said some awful things about me, but they are the truth. I cannot deny my birth. I was born out of wedlock.”

“If you are dissuaded by his confidence then I am afraid you might as well surrender to spinsterhood, Seraphina,” Tristan stated matter-of-factly, “There is not a single man in our society, me included, that does not think highly of themselves. We are raised that way. Fenwick, however, was not.”

Seraphina felt her curiosity spark.

“What do you mean?”

A look of discomfort briefly passed over Tristan’s face.

“It is something you should ask him yourself. I personally find it a wonder that he has any confidence at all. That man has more strength than anyone will ever know or understand.”

Questions formed immediately in Seraphina’s mind. What had happened to the Duke? Her mind raced back to the day he called on her, and she was reminded of the way he empathized with what she was going through with her mother. Was he berated by his parents as well? Or something far worse?

“As for what you said about your birth,” Tristan continued, “That does not give these pompous gits the right to mock you, Seraphina, and if any of these other men had a modicum of sense, they would see you for who you truly are, which is a decent, kind, intelligent woman, regardless of how you came to be.”

Seraphina smiled at him, thankful for his kind words.

“Are you flirting with me, Lord Briarwood?” she attempted to tease, pulling her thoughts away from Hugo’s past. “If I am such a prize, then why do you not marry me?”

Tristan chuckled as he took her for another turn.

“Alas, my affection for you is familial in nature,” he sighed with feigned regret, “And you, Seraphina, deserve something more than that. So does he.”

Seraphina was shocked at his words but before she could inquire about it, Tristan twirled her once more then let her go, sending her right into the arms of the man in question. Instantly she felt the difference of their touch.

Tristan’s had been polite, cordial, but even if she’d been blindfolded, she would have felt the difference between his hand and Hugo’s. Hugo’s touch was more possessive, more caressing, and it sent shivers of delight throughout her entire body. She hitched in a breath as desire snaked down the back of her neck and made her knees tremble for a moment.

“Miss Seraphina, you look absolutely beautiful this evening,” Hugo praised, immediately guiding her into the dance as if he had been her partner all along.”

Seraphina felt her entire body heat and hum at not just his praise and charming smile, but his closeness. But she could not, would not give into it.

“Your Grace,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks turn scarlet, “You must let go of me at once! My mother has proclaimed that I need to stay away from you!”

“And what do you want?” Hugo asked, his hold from her unmoving as they danced. “For it seems to me that you yearn for the exact opposite.” He smirked, then added in a hushed tone, “At least that is what I felt from that kiss we shared from the other night.”

The annoyance she felt for him the other night speared through her once again, and she felt her nose scrunch as her brows drew down.

“I want you to stop presuming what I want and respect what I actually request,” she hissed.

“It seemed like you quite enjoyed my kiss the other night,” he mused. “Tell me now that you did not.”

Seraphina felt her face grow crimson with a mixture of embarrassment and rage; hating the way he was using her reaction to him against you.

“Don’t you dare do that to me again,” she hissed. “What you did was absolutely uncalled for and dangerous. We could have been seen!”

“So you did like it?” He asked, his brow cocked in amusement, “You just didn’t approve of where it took place. That can be remedied.”

“It certainly will not be,” she retorted quickly. “I will not be alone with you again.”

Hugo’s grin grew more wolfish and- to her annoyance, more devilishly charming.

“You still have not said you did not enjoy it,” he pointed out. “Tell me, Miss Seraphina, do you find me as intriguing as I do you?”

Seraphina faltered in her steps, but Hugo’s arms lifted her with ease, making it appear as if it were an intentional move. Desire coursed through her veins at the effortless movement, and despite her annoyance for him not letting her go yet, her mind began to wonder toward all the ways he could sweep her off her feet.

“I am not answering that,” she insisted, fighting her inner passion. “Either way it does not matter.”

Hugo raised his brow in amusement.

“Let me ask you this then. What bothered you more? The way I handled Fellon? Or that I kissed you in such a public space?”

“Your behavior toward Lord Fellon was most obnoxious,” she fired at him, “but the two do not compare! You should not have done either!”

“Ah, but your answer indicates you were more offended by my words toward some pompous noble than by having my lips on yours,” he countered matter-of-factly.

Heat radiated from Seraphina’s face so strongly she was sure she could have fried an egg on it.

“You are most insufferable!” She huffed.

“You enjoy it, though,” Hugo replied, his eyes searching hers deeply. “Admit it. There is something between us. A spark neither you nor I can deny.”

Something about the intensity of Hugo’s stare sent her insides aquiver. There was a knowing there. A recognition she had never felt before, even from her friends.

“Even if there was it would not matter,” she sighed, feeling her body relax as he carried her along with the music, “As I have already told you, my mother will not allow me to accept such a proposal from you. Now, please. Let. Me. Go.”

Hugo continued looking on at her with the same intensity for a long moment as he led her through the dance, then gave her a small nod.

“Very well. Answer my next question honestly and I will,” He promised.

Seraphina glanced toward the crowd, wondering if it would aid or damage her reputation for her to push him away. It was obvious they were whispering about them, but to push a noble, especially one of Hugo’s station, would surely be a scandal of its own. Suddenly her eyes caught her mother’s and saw that she was furious for her blatant disobedience. However her mother gave her a curt shake of her head, as if to say she could not just walk away now that she was mid-dance.

“Seeing as how this is the only way you will allow me to get out of this,” Seraphina sighed, glancing back at Hugo, “What is your question?”

“Do you believe the rumors about me?” He asked, his tone surprisingly sincere. “Do you believe that I would hurt you?”

Seraphina was taken aback by the bluntness of inquisition, and for a moment, she only stared at him.

“Do not spare my feelings,” he urged, “I truly want to know. And if you are afraid of me, I will stop my pursuit of you as you request.”

Seraphina drew in a breath. This was her chance to get him to stop. All she had to do was say yes. And yet as she opened her mouth…

“I do not like the way you speak to others. It hints toward the cruelty that is so talked about. But no. I do not believe you would do me bodily harm, Your Grace,” she confessed.

For a moment Hugo looked as if he were about to smile smugly, but then she pressed on.

“But you are harming my already precarious reputation. I cannot marry you, even if I can admit there is… ‘something’ between us. You must let this idea of you and me go, or you will curse me to spinsterhood.”

Hugo let go of her just as the song ended, but Seraphina’s mind still spun as she watched him bow to her.

“We shall see about that, Miss Seraphina,” he replied, his expression unreadable. And, before she could ask him what he meant by that, he walked away.

“Your Grace!”

Hugo stopped as he heard the shrill tone, and turned in the hall.

Mary, Seraphina’s mother, was walking toward him with purpose, her face etched with anger.

“May I ask what you are doing?”

“Dancing,” he answered with a sigh, waving his hand toward the ballroom, “Is that not what you are to do at a party?”

“Not with my daughter,” Mary replied sharply. “Both my daughter and I have warned you now not to go near her, and yet you still persist. What will it take for you to leave her alone?”

Remembering how Seraphina reacted the last time he was short-tempered with her mother, he kept his original response to himself.

“Her hand in marriage,” he said simply.

Mary laughed, though it was clear she was not amused.

“That is not going to happen,” she retorted, “She needs someone who can save her reputation, not make it worse.”

“ Her reputation?” He asked, his resolve quickly dissolving. “Tell me, Ms. Kinderson, what is it that Miss Seraphina has done herself to garner whispers? Is it her reputation that is in need of saving? Or yours?”

Mary bared her teeth with rage and for a moment, she looked as if he were about to slap him.

“I want what is best for my daughter and myself, Your Grace, and you are not it,” she seethed. “I know who you are, I know what you have done.”

“You know nothing,” he seethed.

“You want what’s best for you, Ms. Kinderson,” Hugo went on with contempt that rivaled Mary's, “Otherwise you would see that I what I offer is more than just a title, but safety. A partnership. Her status will be elevated, Ms. Kinderson, but you do not care about that do you? You only care about your own. And a son-in-law like me will win you no favors with these boorish aristocrats.”

Mary’s face reddened.

“These people are who she will be surrounded by the rest of her life,” Mary argued, “What I am doing, I am doing for her own good!”

Hugo let out a mirthless laugh.

“Forcing her to betray her natural self is not for her own good, Ms. Kinderson. It is an act of pure torture for her spirit,” he shot back. “Now if Miss Seraphina tells me in earnest she has no interest in me, I will back down. But until that happens, I will not stop pursuing her.”

“You will stop, Your Grace, or my-”

Mary stopped, her eyes suddenly widening with shame.

“Your what, Ms. Kinderson?” Hugo taunted, “Your husband? Your lover?”

Mary’s nostrils flared as she grit her teeth.

“How. Dare. You?” she hissed.

“No Ms. Kinderson,” he shot back, “How dare you. You are supposed to be a parent. A nurturer. Not a player moving her daughter as a piece upon a chess board as she tries to gain absolution for sins she did not commit. I am not the monster here, Madam. You are.”

Hugo’s temper was burning white hot within him, and he knew he had to walk away before he caused a scene and truly damaged Seraphina’s reputation. He ignored whatever damaging words were now pouring out of Mary’s mouth, and without looking back, he left the party