Page 7 of Married to the Icy Duke (Duke Wars #3)

“He could be grieving,” she repeated firmly. “Never underestimate how deeply a small child can feel. And have you considered, Your Grace, that perhaps the boy is afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

She gave a harsh laugh. “Of what ? Of you, of course.”

There was a brief silence after she had spoken. Then the duke leaned forward, ever so slowly, until the tip of his nose almost brushed hers. There was a hungry, wolfish look in his eye which made Charlotte swallow thickly.

“Have you heard of my reputation, Lady Charlotte?” he asked, his voice soft and almost sweet. Deceptively so.

She swallowed again, forcing herself to meet his gaze. She would not retreat again. Everything about this conversation felt like a battle, and she was determined not to lose.

“Your reputation? Certainly,” she responded evenly. “It is not a good one. If you were a lady, your reputation would be in tatters even worse than mine.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “You are correct. I was once a rake, and now I am considered a beast. Devil by name and Devil by nature, they say, and frankly, they are correct. It is not often that Society describes a person’s character so neatly, but this is indeed one of those occasions.

I am not a man who thinks much of the opinions of others, my dear. ”

She clenched her jaw, lifting her chin. “I am not your dear . And that is precisely why I do not plan to marry you, Your Grace .”

Far from being angry or shocked at her refusal, the duke gave a short burst of laughter.

“And that is precisely why I do not care, Lady Charlotte. Perhaps I have not made myself sufficiently clear.”

“I think you’ve made yourself entirely too clear,” Charlotte retorted.

“If even a fraction of this conversation were made public knowledge, my reputation would be destroyed forever. Every single door in Society would be closed to me. My life would be over. Even my brother, a duke , would be compromised by his proximity to me. Although perhaps not my brother. Men are never hurt by these things, are they? Women, however… perhaps it is my sister-in-law, the duchess, who would be hurt.”

His face did not change either way. His eye rested on her, steady and unblinking.

She wondered, briefly, whether the eye beneath his eyepatch blinked.

That, she supposed, would depend on whether an eyelid was left.

Judging by the scars running underneath the patch, she suspected his injuries were severe.

“Let me be clear,” he repeated, his voice soft.

“I am offering you a way out of all this nonsense. You saw today how you were treated entirely differently when I offered you protection. And that protection was just the passing courtesy that every gentleman should extend to their guests. Imagine the protection I could offer if you were my wife. If you, my dear, were the Duchess of Arkley. Think on that.”

For a moment, Charlotte did think on it.

She had seen firsthand how Thalia was elevated after her marriage to Gabriel, how differently she was treated.

The plain facts were that a married woman had status, a sort of respect which was not conveyed to single women.

A married woman with a title was something else entirely.

“You would be free,” the duke whispered, his voice catching in the back of his throat in a rasping sort of way.

“Your reputation would be restored. No one would dare offer insults towards you, not if you were the Duchess of Arkley. Not if you were my wife . Nobody dares look me too intently in the eye when I pass through a ballroom. They cringed away from you when I extended a hand of protection towards you. If you were married to me, well. They wouldn’t dare look you in the face, let alone offer you insults. ”

She said nothing. He was right, of course. He was absolutely right.

My life would change overnight, she thought, heart thudding. He is right. I would be respected. Things would be different.

“And in exchange for this great rise in your fortunes,” he continued, his voice cool and even, “I ask for very little. Only your hand in marriage. And in return, you’d take whatever time you need to attend to my nephew. You’ve already displayed a remarkable knack with children, and …”

“I don’t know that I would be a good mother,” Charlotte interrupted, suddenly afraid. A chill ran down her spine, and she felt a wave of nausea shoot through her. “I don’t …”

“Well, I am not asking you to be a mother , am I? I am asking you to help raise my nephew. I require no heir; I already have one. It would be the easiest thing in the world.”

The easiest thing in the world. Charlotte did not believe that. She did not believe that he believed that.

And yet she stood where she was, staring at him, thinking.

He is serious.

Until that moment, Charlotte was not sure that she believed that he was serious. His single good eye fixed on her, unblinking, and she realized in a rush that he meant it. He meant every word.

I could be a duchess. I could be the Duchess of Arkley, and nobody would shoulder past me in a ballroom ever again.

But in return, I must marry this man. I would be out of reach of the whole of the ton, but not out of reach of him . What does that mean for me?

Her heart fluttered, chest constricting. Charlotte found that for once, she couldn’t find a response. The clever retorts which came so easily to her lips were lacking.

The duke broke the spell first, letting out a long sigh and leaning back.

“I shall let you think on it. It’s quite an offer to consider, is it not?”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned shortly away from her and strode towards the door, yanking it open.

“I imagine your brother is tearing up the ballroom in search of you,” he continued coolly. “Go and join him now and think about my offer. I shall expect your answer tomorrow. Good night, Lady Charlotte.”