Page 36 of Corrupting his Duchess (A Duke’s Undoing #1)

She stared at him for a beat, then said, “You weren’t mentioned.”

Isaac faltered, but only for a second. Then he laughed. “Modest as ever. That’s all right, Anna. You don’t need to say it. I’m just glad it worked out.”

Henry stepped forward then, cool and courteous. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Stenton, I believe we have… arrangements to review.”

“Certainly,” Isaac said, practically bouncing on his heels. “Shall we discuss the finer points? I imagine your steward will want to consult with ours. Best to handle it quickly, while we’ve got momentum. I’ll just fetch the drafts. I’ve had them ready for days.”

Henry’s expression didn’t flicker. “Of course,” he said at last. “Let’s be efficient.”

Isaac gave a flourishing bow to Anna, a wink to Heather, and a patronizing smile to their mother.

Then he swept out of the room.

The silence he left behind was almost as loud as his entrance.

Heather looked at Anna. “Is it too soon to be grateful we’ll never live with him?”

Anna laughed softly and held Henry’s hand a little tighter.

They had left the parlor some minutes ago, but Henry had not yet released her hand.

The corridor was quiet now, the door to the drawing room half-shut behind them, muffling the soft hum of Heather’s excitement and Lady Hessey’s fluttering astonishment.

Anna stood beside him at the base of the stairs, her eyes cast downward, cheeks tinged with color. She hadn’t said much since the door closed. Her fingers were still loosely curled in his, but she hadn’t drawn away.

Henry turned to face her more fully.

“You’re quiet,” he said gently.

She glanced up shyly. “So are you.”

He offered a slight smile. “I’m trying to remember the last time I felt like this.”

Her gaze flicked away again, and he saw it, just the barest hesitation in her posture. A subtle awareness.

Last night had not been forgotten.

He didn’t touch her but his voice softened.

“You regret it?” he asked, not demanding. Just honest.

“No,” she said quickly, “Not at all. I only….” She paused, eyes darting upward again. “I’ve never done anything quite so… irrevocable.”

Henry nodded once. “Neither have I.”

That made her look at him.

He stepped just a little closer.

“There is no part of me that hasn’t thought about last night. About you, in that room, looking at me like I was something worth choosing. You were warm and open and– God, Anna– there was something in your eyes I don’t think I’ve ever been given. Not like that.”

His voice dropped. “It wasn’t just passion. It was something else. Something that settled in me. I’m not used to being... known. But you– you saw me. And you didn’t look away.”

She blinked, startled.

He reached for her hand again, this time lifting it gently to his lips. He didn’t kiss it like a duke making a show of courtesy. He pressed his mouth there like a vow.

“I asked for your hand in front of your family,” he said quietly. “But I wanted to ask you again here. Alone. After last night.”

Her fingers trembled faintly in his. She looked at him for a long moment.

Then slowly, she stepped into him.

It wasn’t dramatic. There were no gasps or sobs. She simply leaned her forehead against his chest, her body soft, her heart steady.

“I’m glad it was you,” she said.

His arms came around her, one hand resting at her back, the other brushing the edge of her shoulder. He breathed her in. She still smelled faintly of lavender water and winter air.

“I would marry you in a church or a field,” he murmured. “With witnesses or none at all. So long as it was you.”

She made a quiet, broken sound that might’ve been a laugh or a sob.

Then a knock sounded gently at the far end of the corridor.

The maid appeared, discreet and composed.

“Lord Stenton is waiting for you in the study, Your Grace.”

Henry didn’t move for a second.

Then he exhaled slowly, kissed her forehead, and said, “Wait for me.”

She nodded, and he left.

The door to the study creaked open as Henry stepped inside.

Isaac was already seated behind the desk, legs casually crossed and a glass of port in hand. Papers were spread before him in neat, theatrical disarray.

“Your Grace,” he said, rising a bit too quickly.

In his haste, his knee caught the corner of the desk. A few of the neatly arranged papers fluttered to the floor.

He glanced down, then waved a hand as if it didn’t matter, pasting on a smile. “I thought you might prefer to handle the particulars without the ladies present.”

Henry didn’t offer a smile. “I appreciate your time.”

There was a flicker, something in Isaac’s expression but it was gone too quickly.

He gestured smoothly to the chair across from him, voice resuming its usual glibness.

“Please. Sit. I’ve taken the liberty of outlining a few terms for the settlement.

Of course, we’ll want to keep it simple.

Anna’s dowry is modest, but what she lacks in coin she makes up in, shall we say… polish.”

Henry didn’t sit.

He chuckled, “I must say, I’m gratified. The match is an excellent one– for Anna, naturally, but also for the families. Stability is a rare commodity these days.”

Henry said nothing.

Isaac took a sip. “And with that stability comes opportunity. You and I both know how valuable aligned interests can be. Family, business, reputation– one strengthens the other.”

He smiled faintly. “I’ve made some preliminary notes, of course. Nothing binding. Merely thoughts for a future discussion. I assumed we’d formalize a partnership after the banns.”

Henry snorted.

Isaac went on, undeterred. “It’s rather remarkable what she’s made of herself under pressure. I’m not sure she would have turned out half so useful without a firm hand. But I suppose you’ve seen that now.”

Henry’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

“She’s a bright girl,” Isaac continued. “Stubborn, of course. Prickly, when challenged. But the key is consistency. Don’t let her talk you into every impulse. She thrives with boundaries.”

Henry’s voice was calm. “You speak of her as though she’s a ward. Or a dog.”

Isaac gave a short, indulgent laugh. “Oh, come now. We both know women like Anna need management. She means well, but she’s been stretched thin. You’ll need to keep her grounded. Keep her reminded.”

“Of what?”

Isaac blinked. “Her place.”

Henry took one step forward. “And what, in your opinion, is her place?”

Isaac tilted his head, as if humoring a child. “With you. Beside you. That’s the best place for her. Just so long as she remembers she’s not your equal. No one expects that.”

He didn’t wait for a reply.

“And now that we’re to be family,” he continued, moving to the desk, “we can solidify the investment side of things. I’ve spoken to several men who’d be eager to lend their weight once the match is announced.”

He reached for a folded sheet of notes. “Yeats & Stenton…it has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Henry’s voice was quiet. “No.”

Isaac straightened. “I beg your pardon?”

“There will be no business arrangement,” Henry said. “No investment. No partnership. Not now, not ever.”

Isaac frowned. “But we’ve been discussing– ”

“You’ve been presuming,” Henry cut in. “I listened, Lord Stenton. I allowed you your ambitions. I allowed you your theatre. And now I am done, I owe you nothing.”

The pause that followed was sharp as broken glass.

The room stilled.

“I see,” Isaac said after a moment, lips tightening. “So you mean to marry the girl, but cut me out entirely? Decline the natural consolidation that comes with it?”

Henry’s gaze didn’t waver. “Anna is not a commodity. And she is not the result of your efforts. What she is, what she’s become, she did in spite of you. Not because of you.”

Isaac gave a clipped smile. “Of course. I merely hoped our families might move forward with... mutual benefit.”

Henry let the silence stretch. Then, “I find that all my benefits lie elsewhere.”

Isaac inclined his head, jaw taut. “You’re certain.”

Henry’s reply was ice. “Entirely.”

Isaac’s voice sharpened. “You’ll regret this. You’ll find yourself without allies.”

Henry’s smile was thin. “I think not.”

“You don’t understand how this works. These connections– ”

“I don’t need you,” Henry said flatly. “And I never did.”

Isaac’s composure faltered for a half-breath, then returned with venom. “She’ll regret choosing you.”

Henry’s voice dropped to steel. “If you so much as speak of her again in anything but civility, make sure you never show your face in society again. Do you understand me?”

Silence rang in the space that followed.

Isaac’s hand curled around the armrest, knuckles white. “You’re making a mistake.”

Henry turned toward the door. “Possibly. But at least it’s mine to make. And hers.”

And then he left.