Page 8 of Emperor of Fates (The Duke Fraternity #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Caroline knew she’d erred when the trunks began to arrive in her foyer during midafternoon tea.

They were accompanied by several servants, most of who remained in her foyer even after the carriages had left the drive.

“May I help you?” she’d asked, staring at the volume of goods making it near impossible to navigate from the stairs to the sitting room.

A man stepped forward, or he tried. “My lady, His Grace has commanded us to take up residence here with him until further notice.”

From behind her, she heard Mrs. Banks gasp as Caroline winced. Her first husband had been a dictator. And when people hadn’t done as he’d asked…

She shivered, pushing her memories aside. Luke clearly didn’t understand that he ought to ask first, before moving into someone’s home.

If he had, she would have told him that she wasn’t ready to live with a man.

Then again, he was clearly invested in her health, or at least the baby’s…

Several details came together for her. He was older, without a wife or an heir. Did he plan to wed her?

Before she could tamp it down the tiniest thrill pulsed through her at the idea of marrying him. But she pushed the feeling aside. She wasn’t ready to give herself over to a man like Luke. Not forever.

And even if she was… was his interest in her or the child? She’d had one loveless marriage, she’d not tolerate another.

Mrs. Banks stepped up behind her. “Do you see what he’s doing? He’s going to be just like the earl. Demanding. Forcing. Domineering.”

“I see, Mrs. Banks,” she answered, giving her housekeeper a stern look over her shoulder. This was neither the time nor the place.

When she’d been married, Mrs. Banks had been her support and only friend. Caroline appreciated that so much, but she needed to do this part of her journey on her own. She was having a baby.

Luke’s baby…

That meant something, and she and Luke were going to have to decide how that shaped their future. Right now, she needed to focus on her own feelings. For example, there were certain aspects of his dominant nature she enjoyed. And she’d also like to consider his position. What did he feel for her?

Mrs. Banks grimaced, turned on her heel and stomped away.

Caroline sighed. “Let’s move all these trunks into the sitting room just there, and then why don’t you all make your way down to the kitchen for a bit of tea? The duke will be here shortly, and we can make further plans from there.”

His staff hurried to do as she’d requested, their efficiency impressive. It took three quarters of an hour to stack everything as several pieces of her furniture needed to be moved but once the staff had retreated downstairs, she stepped into the room, assessing the sheer volume of items. He clearly intended to stay for a while.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the entry just as the front door opened. “Where is the countess?” Luke’s voice boomed through the vaulted ceiling, echoing through the entire house.

“I’m in here,” she called back even as she stepped out of the room. “With all your things.”

He met her in the doorway, “What happened in here?”

“Your trunks happened. Your staff is in the kitchen.” And then she moved past him, crossing the entry and started up the stairs.

He followed. “Is there a reason they have not been moved into a chamber?”

She kept going reaching the second floor and started for her bedchamber. “Yes, there is a reason.”

“And the reason is?”

“We’ve yet to discuss you living in this house.”

He let out a rumble of dissent even as she pushed open the door to her room. She had no desire for an audience during their discussion, and perhaps she was stalling… a little. Confrontation with men was not something she felt all that comfortable with.

“What is there to discuss?” He closed the door. “You are assuredly more comfortable here.”

She turned to him then, something inside her softening. “I am.”

“And I am more comfortable making sure you are well cared for.”

“I appreciate that,” she drew in a deep fortifying breath. “But we hardly know each other.”

“A situation we will rectify quickly by living together until we are wed.”

“Until we are wed…” She repeated her lips parting. “When did we decide we were getting married?”

He jerked off his jacket with enough force that Caroline took a step back.

“You would rather raise a bastard then be a duchess? That makes no sense.”

“I would rather have a husband who asks my opinion,” she fired back, knowing that she’d just misspoken. She didn’t wish to have a husband at all. Not after discovering she was pregnant.

“Forgive me, Caroline, but scores of women before you have offered me all the pleasures of the world for the position that I am handing over to you. You ought to be…” He tapered off, his lip curling.

But the words incited her own anger. Her arms crossed over her chest. “Grateful? Is that what you were going to say?” She took a step closer. “You want me to be grateful that as a woman of independent means, you have made major decisions in my life without even asking? Nay, without even informing me. You just moved your things in.” Her hand swept toward the door as though his trunks were just outside.

He pointed a finger at her and much of her bravado deflated as her shoulders curled in. “To be clear, you are upset that I am willing to marry you, legitimize our child, and make you a duchess?”

She shook her head, watching as he yanked at his cravat, tossing it on the floor. Then came his vest.

What was he disrobing for? All his things were downstairs. More nervous energy made her take another step back.

It was the same way with the earl. Whenever she dared to disagree, he’d take off his coat, his cravat, roll up his sleeves…

She tried to keep going, but the old fear was welling inside her. “I am upset because… because you didn’t ask… I can’t…”

His hands reached behind his back and he tugged his short sword and its strap around his body over his arm, holding it in his hand.

Caroline lost herself at the sight of him. The weapon in his hand was too much. Fear made a small cry fall from her lips as she stared at his hand. What did he intend to do?

She felt the blood drain from her face as she sank to the floor.

* * *

Luke watched Caroline crumble. It wasn’t a faint. But one moment she was standing and the next, her rear was on the floor, her knees drawn up, with her arms wrapped about them, her chin resting on top.

And her eyes. They were so wide, shining with fear as she stared up at him having gone completely pale. “Caroline?”

“Please,” she begged, only this please was not at all pleasant to his ears. She sounded deathly afraid.

“Please what?” He didn’t move forward but instinctually he crouched down, making himself smaller and bringing their eyes on the level.

“Please,” her voice trembled, her head shaking back and forth as she held out her hands. “Please put down the sword.”

He blinked in surprise, looking at the weapon in his right hand. He’d only been removing the thing from where it always rested around his waist under his coat. It was the habit of most gentleman to be armed. “All right,” he said, carefully setting the sword on the floor. “Done.”

“I won’t argue anymore,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Just don’t…”

Did she think he was going to hurt her? “Caroline. You’ve gone mad. I would never…” His hand sliced through the air and she flinched away.

He dropped his hands to the floor too, slowly lowering his own ass-end to the carpet as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “I would never hurt you.”

“I…” she said, her voice trembling as her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t like…”

“Do you want to come here?”

She shook her head. “No. Please.”

Her voice made him ache. “Caroline, tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head again.

“I had hardly even raised my voice. We’re having our first fight. Expected considering the circumstances.”

“The sword…”

He looked down at it again. He’d held a weapon in his hand as they’d been fighting, he could see that. But why would that bother her so? He’d not made a single physically aggressive movement their entire relationship. “Tell me.”

“Please don’t make me,” she begged, an actual sob escaping her lips. He hated when she said please like that.

“Stop saying please, love. Tell me to shut up, or tell me to get out, or tell me what’s wrong.”

“I…” But her sob ceased, her head lifting. “If I told you to get out, you would?”

“I mean, I might argue. Something like, I don’t want to get out…” He kept his voice so even, as though he were coaxing a frightened pup. “We have too much to discuss. I’m not the most docile man, we both know that.”

But her arms were relaxing. “And if I told you to shut up?”

“In all honestly, I’d probably say I’m a bloody duke, I’ll talk when I want. But then, I’d probably shut up.”

She rocked forward, coming to her hands and knees, which brought her closer to him. “And if I told you that you shouldn’t marry me, I’m too… I’m too broken? What would you say to that?”

Something that had been niggling in his gut swelled, fear and worry making him slightly sick. “Tell me how you’re broken, sweetheart. Please.” He never said please. Ever. But the word had just slipped past his lips, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.

She crawled toward him then and he didn’t move until her arms were around his neck. Only then did he wrap his arms about her, swinging her legs so that he could cradle her in his arms. “I don’t want to. I don’t talk about it ever. It’s too…”

“It’s all right,” he whispered against her temple. “You can tell me. Because I am big enough and strong enough to take your burden. And that is a promise.”

She shook her head against his chest. “It’s too awful.”

“Who hurt you?”

She trembled in his arms, her fingers fisting in his shirt. God damn it, the patience was killing him. He wanted to hit someone, beat them to a pulp for hurting her.

Instead, he wrapped her tighter in his arms, beginning to rock her even as inside a rage boiled hotter. Who would dare to hurt this woman? She was full of life and passion and…

“It started on our wedding night.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth gnashing together. She was a virgin. Her husband had been unable to consummate. “He hurt you when he couldn’t consummate the marriage.”

“He said it was my fault…” She sobbed into his shirt. “Said that I wasn’t appealing enough. That I wasn’t alluring or…”

The fucking bastard. If he wasn’t dead, Luke would have killed him. “Was it only the one time?”

But he already knew the answer. His hands spread out on her back, still rocking her.

“No. It wasn’t the one time.”

He’d already decided that Caroline was his to care for. But in this moment, he understood that she was going to require a great deal more care than he’d ever imagined.

He let out a long breath of air. “It is a husband’s duty to protect his wife.”

She snorted out a cold laugh. “Not in my experience.” Then she picked up her head, their gazes locking as he studied her red-rimmed eyes. “Though, he did care for me in one way. He left me enough money and property so that I’d never have to marry again.”