Page 8 of A Proposal to Wed (The Beautiful Barringtons #9)

“ Y ou seem quite enthralled. What has caught your attention, I wonder?”

The sound of Dufton’s voice had Lucy’s gaze jerking back from Estwood’s obvious disgust at the sight of her.

He has good reason, Lucy.

She drew her attention away from the only man who’d ever merited it. Lucy hadn’t known it would hurt so much, to see how much he despised her. “My lord,” she murmured.

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted.” He nodded his head just slightly in Estwood’s direction.

Lucy kept her gaze lowered, retreating at the animosity in Dufton’s tone. “Mr. Ethtwood ?” The lisp returned, horrible and far too loud. She composed her features into mild confusion while trying to force her tongue to stop sticking to her teeth.

Dufton peered at her. “Come now, Miss Waterstone,” he drawled. “You were listening at dinner the other evening, weren’t you?”

Instinct, finely honed after years with Father, screamed at Lucy to say as little as possible.

Compose yourself.

“Oh,” Lucy replied, giving the impression of a dimwit. “I was watching the boy with his ball.” She pointed.

“I’m sure you were. But even you are not so stupid as to be unaware of the rivalry between your father and Harrison Estwood.

Well, possibly you are. You don’t strike me as terribly intelligent.

” Dufton took Lucy’s arm, spinning her abruptly.

Fingers bit into her skin, dragging Lucy in the direction of the waiting carriage.

“My lord,” she breathed, surprised at Dufton’s sudden change in manner.

His grip intensified, bruising her skin. “Now would be an excellent time to inform you, Miss Waterstone, that I do not care to be lied to.” He pinned her against the door of the carriage.

“I’m not ” She flinched at the ugliness contorting his handsome features.

“Tsk, tsk, Miss Waterstone.” Dufton shoved her into the carriage. “We should discuss my expectations of our impending union.”

“I haven’t agreed toto” she stammered, her tongue refusing to obey, given her distress.

Flinging her into the seat across from him, Dufton waited until Lucy righted herself before speaking. “You seem completely oblivious to your situation, Miss Waterstone. Given you aren’t clever enough to figure things out on your own, allow me to apprise you of certain matters.”

I’m not a nitwit , Lucy wanted to scream, but instead, she merely regarded him from beneath the safety of her lashes, heart pounding.

She retreated, as she always did, into excessive reserve.

Clasping her hands, she stayed perfectly still and silent.

Invisible. Beneath notice. A trick she’d learned from living with Father.

“Just as Waterstone promised me.” There was a wolfish flash of teeth before Dufton continued. “A beautiful, slightly stupid lady of good birth. Docile. Malleable. One who knows her duty. Do you know your duty, Miss Waterstone?”

“ Yeth.” Her fingers splayed out on the leather seat.

Dufton reached out to squeeze her knee. “Look at me, Miss Waterstone.”

Lucy regarded him warily.

“Ah, I see a glimmer of defiance,” he declared. “Best you rid yourself of it before too long.” His fingers dug into her thigh. “Was Estwood in the park because of you today? I warn you, be truthful.”

Lucy adamantly shook her head. Why would he assume such a thing? “No.”

“I hope, for your sake, he was not. If you think you can circumvent me or make your own agreement, think again.”

She stared at her lap, fingers twisting about, trying to control her breathing. Fear blotted out everything else. She had no idea what Dufton meant. Did Father know what sort of man the earl was?

Swallowing her fear, Lucy tried to pry her tongue from her teeth but failed. “We do not thuit ,” she said softly, attempting to sound confident. Brave. Father couldn’t actually force her to wed Dufton. She was a grown woman.

“I beg your pardon?” Dufton tightened his fingers, and Lucy let out a gasp at the sudden sting. “What did you say?”

“We—are— unthuitable .”

“That’s adorable, Miss Waterstone. Not the lisp, that’s atrocious.

But thinking you have a choice in matters.

Allow me to be blunt since you fail to grasp your situation.

And don’t speak. I prefer you silent until I say otherwise.

” His hand retreated only to smack the palm against the leather seat to make his point.

Lucy jumped, then shrank back as far from Dufton as possible in a small carriage.

“Gerald Waterstone, your illustrious father,” Dufton said with great mockery, “is drowning in debt and bad decisions. Mrs. Waterstone adores luxury and can’t wait to be rid of you. Even under the best circumstances, you are a burden.”

Rather impolite of him.

“Fortunately, Waterstone has something I want. And in return, I’ll make him whole. Oh…” He leaned over, breath fanning her cheek. “It isn’t you , Miss Waterstone.”

No, Lucy hadn’t expected that it would be.

A peal of laughter filled the carriage as the vehicle rocked forward.

“I don’t want this marriage any more than you do, but you’ll satisfy my mother, who does want me wed.

She isn’t particular about the lady, as it happens.

And it would be in your best interests, pet ”—he smacked the seat with his palm again—“not to anger me. Or go behind my back. So I would advise you to stay as far away from Estwood as possible.”

Because Estwood wanted Marsden. As did Dufton, that much had been made clear at dinner.

But she had nothing to do with Marsden. Didn’t know what it was.

I don’t even have a dowry.

“Do you understand, my darling peahen? Nod if you do.”

Lucy slowly nodded, shocked at the horrible turn her day had taken. No more than an hour ago, she’d thought marriage to Dufton might be pleasant and offer her escape. How ill-advised that had been.

“Did I mention, Miss Waterstone, that I have been previously married?” Dufton waved a hand as if they were discussing nothing more important than the weather.

“I was barely more than a lad at the time. My father arranged the match. My dear wife had more than a streak of defiance. In fact, her constant disobedience was enough to merit the examination of a physician, given her outbursts. Unfortunately, it was a sign of a much deeper malady.” Dufton gave her a mournful look.

“I was forced to place her in a sanitarium. For her own safety, of course. Such a shame, don’t you agree? ”

Lucy’s eyes widened. She stared down at her lap, not daring to move. Breathe.

He clucked his tongue. “Well, as you can imagine, my mother was disappointed. No heir, you see. Sadly, my wife never recovered.” He cocked his head. “Have you ever visited a sanitarium, Miss Waterstone?” When she didn’t respond, he snapped his fingers before her. “Answer me. Nod.”

Lucy nodded obediently, tongue firmly glued to her teeth. Unable to speak, at least coherently. The walls of the carriage loomed closer. She would suffocate here, with Dufton. He was a beast. A horrible person. Worse than she could have possibly imagined.

And I am not brave.

One hand shot out, cupping her chin so hard, a small cry of pain erupted from her lips.

“You wouldn’t last long in such a place, Miss Waterstone.

You’re far too delicate. Like a cobweb. Flimsy, with no substance to speak of.

I don’t care for cobwebs, as it happens.

I tear them apart and brush them to bits whenever possible.

” He chuckled as he released her. “I do wonder if your little speech problem is a sign of an unstable mind. Wouldn’t that be my poor luck? ”

She sucked in a breath. Lucy could argue her luck was far worse.

“So, here is what will happen, Miss Waterstone. You will meet the dowager countess at the upcoming Shaftoe ball and behave as if we are a love match. Do not embarrass me. Obedience is paramount. After we wed, produce a handful of brats. In return, once you’ve fulfilled your duty, I will allow you to live out your pathetic life in the country along with the other sheep. Do I make myself clear?”

The entire courtship was a ruse, as was any illusion that she’d ever had a choice in marrying Dufton.

It had likely been decided before she’d even met him.

She might have considered, after today, that wedding Dufton would suit her, had Estwood not appeared and forced the earl to show his true nature.

There is only one way to have Marsden .

Father’s words at dinner. But what did it have to do with her? Mr. Hopps had been clear Lucy had no dowry. No property. No inheritance from her mother. Nothing of value at all.

“Would you like an ice from Gunter’s, Miss Waterstone?” The charming mask Dufton usually wore was firmly back in place. Asking her if she wished a bloody ice as if he hadn’t been threatening to lock her away mere moments ago.

“Delightful, my lord,” she murmured.

I will not survive marriage to Dufton.

That much was clear. Her existence with him would be far worse than her current situation under Father’s roof. Under no circumstances could she wed him.

A trickle of fear ran down her spine.

No matter how agreeable Lucy would be if they married, Dufton would still find a reason to lock her away one day. She knew it as well as she knew her own name.

“Splendid.” He sat back on the leather seats. “I know Waterstone said you didn’t care for ices, but I disagree. Everyone adores an ice on a lovely day. And this outing has been delightful.”

A sob crawled up her throat. Her fingers trembled. But she remained still.

At heart, Lucy was a coward. What little defiance she possessed had been a more recent development. But avoiding Dufton merited greater courage. Strategy would be required. She could not blindly accept the awful fate awaiting her.

I will not wed Dufton under any circumstances .

She repeated the words, over and over, like a prayer, hands clasped tightly so Dufton wouldn’t see her distress, as the carriage rolled in the direction of Gunter’s.