Page 4 of Duke of Iron (Unyielding Dukes #2)

Four

Y our Grace,

I accept.

—Lady May Vestiere

May sealed the letter and handed it to her lady’s maid, Miss Abbot. “See that it is sent immediately.”

The maid bobbed a curtsy and slipped from the room.May remained standing at her escritoire for a long moment before pushing her chair back and walking to the window. The sash was already drawn up, and she leaned out slightly to look at the setting sun.

“It’s time, May,” she whispered to herself.

She left her room and made her way downstairs. She had not left her bedchamber since yesterday morning, and she was certain the gossip had gotten worse and her family was more worried than before—if April and June’s near-hourly visits to her door were any indication.

May could already hear voices drifting from the drawing room when she arrived.“She’s not spoken to any of us,” June said. “Not even me.”

“She needs time,” April added.

“She needs justice,” August snapped. “I shall find Irondale tomorrow. He needs to come and offer for her. Immediately.”

“There is no need,” May said from the doorway.

All heads turned. The hush was immediate, and April was the first to move, hurrying over and taking May’s hands.

“Oh, thank goodness. We were worried. Are you?—”

“I am fine.”

Before anyone else could speak, a footman appeared at the threshold. “Dinner is served.”The family filed into the dining room, but the tension clung to the air like fog.

As they took their seats, and May laid a napkin on her lap, she spoke.“I said there is no need for August to find Irondale,” she repeated. “He has already offered for me.”

Glasses paused halfway to mouths, and a thousand words erupted at once.

“What?”

“When did this happen?”

“How did he find the nerve?”

“The rake will marry?”

May let out a breath and lifted a hand, silencing the table.“I have not been entirely honest,” she said. “The Duke and I have been acquainted for some time now. We chose to keep our connection private. I have accepted his proposal.”

Their mother clutched her chest. “You sly, brilliant girl! A duchess! Another duchess in the family!”

June frowned, her amber eyes full of skepticism. “But why the secrecy? Why not tell us?”

May offered a small smile. “Because I did not want anyone assuming I sought to follow April’s path. I desired freedom.”

“Freedom?” June said, arching a brow. “To court a rake in secret?”

“He is a rake no longer,” Dorothy said, dabbing at her eyes. “A reformed man, clearly. Irondale and May. What a pair!”

August, who had not yet spoken, studied her. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

May nodded, though something inside her shifted uneasily. She was lying to her family, and she barely understood the nature of the man she had just said yes to, or whether he would truly keep his word.

Dorothy practically bounced in her seat. “I shall write to every connection we have. The papers must print the announcement! My dear May, the Duchess of Irondale!”

“We must be careful with the scandal sheets,” June muttered. “You know how they twist things.”

April leaned toward her. “Are you truly happy, May? I know I was caught by surprise, but I want to believe this is truly your choice.”

May opened her mouth to answer, but her mother’s voice rose above hers. “I must tell your father!”

“Tell me what?”

They turned as one to see Albert Vestiere, the Duke of Wildmoore, in the doorway, a cane in his right hand, and a footman beside him. Dorothy rushed to his side.

“Oh, Albert, I did not mean for you to hear it like this, but the Duke of Irondale has offered for May.”

Her father’s silvering brows rose, and he turned in May’s direction. “Irondale?”

May stood. “Yes, Papa.”A beat passed. Then she nodded again, forcing her voice not to tremble.

Unexpectedly, he smiled.“Well. That is something.”

Dorothy beamed as she led him to the table. “Is it not marvelous? Now the ton shall swallow their words about my daughters.”

Albert frowned. “What has the ton been saying?”

Dorothy flushed, fumbling with her napkin. “Oh, you know how they are. Always whispering, always watching. They said things, unkind things—about May, about the carriage—but now, well, they will be forced to swallow every last word.”

Albert’s brows rose even higher. “What things exactly?”

Dorothy waved her hand. “Idle nonsense. That she flung herself into the arms of a man she barely knew. That she staged it all to trap him. That our daughter was desperate.”

His eyes narrowed further. “And you did not think this worth mentioning?”

“It no longer matters,” Dorothy said with forced cheer. “She’s to be a duchess. Let them choke on their ink and venom.”

“They will have more to say if we bungle this,” April said.

The conversation swirled around May like a storm. Her mother had already begun listing the names of modistes, jewelers, and caterers she must call upon at first light.

“We must start with silks,” Dorothy declared. “Only ivory. Not cream. Ivory is more elegant for a duchess.”

“What of the guest list?” April asked. “Will we host it at Wildmoore or allow Irondale to take the lead?”

“We will hold our heads high,” Dorothy announced. “Let no one believe the Vestiere name is diminished. We are ascendant.”

But through it all, August’s eyes never left May’s. They were not angry now, but seemed to search for what she was not telling.

Later that evening, as May was preparing for bed, Miss Abbot returned with a note. May’s heart stumbled when she saw the seal. She tore it open and read,

Lady May,

I shall secure a special license so we can be wed at the earliest opportunity. I will also call upon your father to make everything official. I trust you are ready.

—Irondale

May’s shoulders sagged as relief washed over her. A part of her had doubted his intention, but having him send her this raised her confidence in their agreement.

Before she could completely exhale, a knock came again, and her mother stepped in.“I’d hoped you’d still be awake. Your father would like to see you.”

May wrapped herself in a robe and followed, knowing he had summoned her to speak to her about her engagement.

She found him by the fire with a book on his lap and his feet up on an ottoman.He looked up when she walked in and smiled. “Come sit, my dear.”

She did, heart thudding.

“The news today was good,” he said. “Your mother panics, but I do not. My daughters are cleverer than most. I always knew you would find your own path.”

“I find myself in disbelief too,” she admitted.

“You are favored by providence, never doubt that.”He looked at her steadily.“Tell me truly, May. Why Irondale?”

She hesitated and glanced down at her folded hands in her lap. “Do you disapprove, Father?” The Duke’s reputation was a thing to worry over, and any sensible guardian would ask why such a man would want to marry his charge.

“It matters not what I think,” Albert replied. “What do you feel?”

She swallowed. “He did not laugh at my spectacles.”

Albert’s smile grew. “A good start.”

“He… speaks with me. Not at me, and about things that matter.”

That was not entirely true. May barely knew him and had no notion of what sort of conversationalist he was. But it was easier than the truth.

Albert nodded. “Then that is all I require. I look forward to meeting him.”

She smiled, but her chest felt hollow.

I’m marrying a man I barely know. And worse, lying to the people I love most.

May stood atop a round pedestal at Madame Lavelle’s, a rich pale green fabric pooling around her as the modiste flitted about with pins. “It’s certainly extravagant,” she murmured, turning slightly to catch her reflection from another angle.

“Extravagant?” April repeated, laughing lightly as she settled more comfortably on the velvet chaise. “May, it’s divine. You’ll look magnificent walking down the aisle. I only wish I had chosen that color for my wedding.”

May smiled. “You looked like a queen at your wedding. Every eye was on you.”

“And now they will all be on you,” April said.

“Precisely the problem,” June muttered, arms crossed as she stared at the array of lace and silks on display. “You’re lucky, May. At least your days of courtship are behind you. I’m quite finished with the ton . Their balls. Their teas. Their judgment.”

May turned toward her sister, careful not to step on the fabric. “I’ve yet to walk down the aisle, June.”

“You’re nearly there.” June sighed, tossing a fan onto a cushion. “If only I could marry a gentleman and be done with it all. Just take his name, not his demands. No need for poetry or pledges or anything else.”

April raised a brow. “Is that what you wish for, a marriage only in name?”

June laughed. “Not all of us dream of a grand love like May.”

May looked down at the embroidery on her bodice, her fingers brushing lightly over the stitching. She had always wished for love. She had read of it in every novel, imagined it in every dance she had never been asked to. But love is not what brought Irondale to my door.

The sisters made their way down Bond Street after leaving Madame Lavelle’s, May holding tightly to her wrapped dress as if it were a shield. As they passed a small stall of secondhand books, May slowed.

“Go on,” April said. “We’ll find the carriage.”

May paused, letting her fingers drift over the spines. She found comfort in books. They didn’t whisper.

“—had to trap him. Poor Irondale. What choice had he?”

May’s spine stiffened. She turned her head, and sure enough, three ladies of the ton —Lady Penhurst, Miss Eversleigh, and the insufferable Honoria Drayton—stood just across the street, heads bent together like vultures.

“Oh, she’s buying books now. Perhaps a guide on how to become a duchess?”

Another titter. “Or how to catch a duke with a well-placed scandal.”

May’s throat tightened. Her fingers curled into fists.

Before she could speak, June was suddenly beside her. “I do beg your pardon,” she said, loud enough to carry across the cobbled street. “Were you ladies addressing my sister?”

The three froze.

“Because if you were, I should very much like to know where your audacity comes from. I was under the impression the ton still valued civility.”

Miss Eversleigh turned bright red. “We meant no offense?—”

“Oh, I believe you meant every syllable,” June said. “And I should hope, for your sakes, that my brother never hears of this. You know how he is about family.”

The trio scrambled away, muttering their defenses before disappearing into a milliner’s shop.June turned to May and linked their arms. “Shall we?”

May nodded slowly. Her smile was faint but present. “Thank you.”

June squeezed her arm. “It’s nothing. Just say the word and I’ll send word to August.”

May laughed despite herself.

As they walked to the carriage, May looked up at the clouds rolling across the sky. What sort of life awaited her now? One of pretense? Of defending what she did not take?

Must I spend every day convincing the world that I did not trap a man who never wished to be caught?