Page 1 of The Beast’s Duchess (Duchesses of Inconvenience #1)

" V eronica, he’s here, " Rose Halewhispered to her sister, eyes darting across the crowded ballroom.

“Who is?” Veronica asked, feigning ignorance as she picked at a nonexistent thread on the skirt of her gown. She didn’t even look over, as though they hadn’t come to Lord Dudley's party simply because her parents heard he would be there.

Her younger sister snorted. “Truly, sister, you know who. You can’t tell me you aren’t curious about him.”

“What’s there to be curious about? I saw him the day our families agreed on our betrothal. He has chosen not to show himself since. If there were anything worthwhile to him, I would know by now.”

“Veronica, you should give him a chance.”

“If he wanted a chance he could have come to call on me at any point.”

Despite having met and agreed to the match, even seeming interested in her, months and months passed by without him calling, or even sending her a letter. And she could not help but feel a stab or rejection.

Was he truly that uninterested? Was every one of his reactions faked for the sake of… who? The ton, her parents? His?

She tried to push the rising feelings down, to protect and fortify her heart. Even as it started racing the moment Rose pointed him out to her.

“You are going to be married. That won’t change just because you chose to hold a grudge.”

“If he wants my forgiveness, he should work hard for it. It’s only fair after all.”

Rose sighed, shaking her head. “You are too harsh.”

“And you are too forgiving. If you were in my position, you would understand. Unless I can respect his person, I don’t care about his prestige.”

Rose gasped.

“I hardly think what I’ve said is that shocking,” she rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice rumbled.

Veronica froze. That couldn’t be who she thought it was. Slowly, she turned and saw the source of that voice. Her heart sank.

He was tall with broad shoulders. His silky black hair curled down over his ears, accenting his piercing eyes; so dark they looked black.

He looked the same way he had when Veronica had met him at their engagement dinner—elegant, composed, and utterly reluctant to be anywhere near her. The man who’d warmed to her, however slightly, at that long-ago garden party was nowhere to be seen.

An amused smirk played on his lips. He had heard everything.

“Duke Ashton.” She forced herself to boldly meet his eyes, ignoring the way her heart fluttered in her chest. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being embarrassed.

“Lady Hale, I must admit, I am surprised that it took until this late in the evening for me to see you here.”

“Perhaps you simply did not recognize me,” she snipped through a smile.

He ignored the barb. “It has been some time since we last met, but I recognized you, I assure you. I was wondering if I could have the next dance.” he said offering his arm.

“I would love to, but I have been keeping my sister company. I can hardly abandon her now can I?” she said, echoing the words she’d spoken the last time they met. If he didn’t recognize them, well, that was simply proof of how little she mattered to her betrothed.

“Sister?” he frowned, glancing around. “I don’t see anyone else here. If you don’t want to dance, you are free to simply say that.”

Sure enough, Rose had vanished into the crowd, driven by whatever sense of romance the girl might have had. She crossed her arms.

Unbelievable. She was on her own now. “And you would accept it if I simply said no?”

He shrugged. “If you don’t want to dance, I won’t force you.

I simply thought you might want to take some time to get to know one another before we have to walk down the aisle.

If you decline the dance, I might suggest a walk, but if you would prefer to remain strangers until the last minute, I can leave you to it. ”

She looked away. “I suppose I can see your point. It would be better not to be complete strangers if we can help it.”

“So? What do you say? You still haven’t given me an answer.”

She gave a nod that looked more confident than she felt. “Ask me again.”

He huffed out a half laugh. “Lady Hale, may I have this dance?”

She paused pretending to think it over before she said, “Very well. I supposed we can dance, but only once.”

“Of course. Betrothed or not, anything else would simply be improper.” he smiled a crooked, almost daring smile, offering his hand once more. This time with a flourish that made her stifle a smile.

She hesitated a moment more, glancing around for any possible sign of Rose. Only when she was sure escape was no longer an option did she take a deep breath before placing her hand in his.

His hand was warm and firm, a striking contrast to his proper demeanor. He closed his fingers around hers, seeming to encompass her hand completely. She hoped he couldn’t see the way heat pooled in her cheeks.

“Shall we?” he asked as the song finished up.

Veronica couldn’t bring herself to speak, so she forced a nod. Why was her heart pounding so hard? There was nothing between them. She didn’t even like him.

He smirked, leading her to the floor.

They took up their positions and the musicians began.

Christopher proved himself to be a wonderful dancer, leading her through the steps with a practiced fluidity. Veronica loved the notion of dancing—the grace, the elegant balance of pursuit and acceptance—but the reality often fell flat.

Not tonight. Not entirely.

Despite his ease of movement, the conversation left something to be desired. Silence stretched between them and no matter how hard she tried, Veronica couldn’t think of a way to break it.

Halfway through the song, he finally took pity on her and said, “I should apologize for my prolonged absence.”

His words jarred her. Blinking, it took her a moment to gather her thoughts before putting on a mask of indifference. “Should you? I hadn’t noticed.”

He chuckled. She expected him to bring up what she had been saying to Rose. there was no way he hadn’t heard it. “I have been away until recently.”

“Not that it matters to me, but where have you been? Have you gone on one of those long European tours that seem so popular these days?”

“No, I have been focused on my studies at Oxford.”

She looked up in surprise. “I didn’t know you were going to university.”

“Yes, well, you would have if I’d have told you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she demanded without missing a beat.

“I suppose that is a fair question.”

“Not fair, necessary. You show up to dinner, tell everyone we’re engaged and disappear for more than a year. What was I supposed to believe of you?”

“It wasn’t as though any of it was my choice,” he sighed. “Truthfully, I would have waited until at least a year after I finished my studies to even consider marriage, but you know how these things can be.”

“This was arranged for you?” she blinked in surprise.

“Just the same as you.”

Veronica frowned. “No one told me that.”

He cocked his head to the side, an amused grin on his face. “It would seem we are in the same boat, so I thought we might as well make the best of it.”

“I have to be honest, you are not what I expected.”

“And I feel as though it is safe to say the same is true of you.”

“Why? What were you expecting?”

Rather than answer, he just smirked. “I could ask you the same question, but I don’t think that would be very helpful. Instead of talking about what we assumed about each other, why don’t we just get to know one another? It would hardly do if we were to marry while practically strangers.”

“If only there was a period of time before the wedding where the couple could get to know one another...” she couldn’t help but grumble.

“I told you, I was away at university.” His tone was defensive, and he twirled her with more force than necessary.

“Did you not have access to the post? Or perhaps it was paper you were lacking.”

“You also could have written.”

“You were the gentleman. You should have been the one to reach out first-”

Veronica cut herself off with a small yelp as her foot slipped, almost knocking her to the ground.

Christopher tightened his arms around her waist, steadying her. “Are you alright?” he asked, suddenly closer than what was considered proper.

She felt her cheeks blush and pushed back, putting a respectable distance between them. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Are you always this clumsy?”

“Clumsy? How am I clumsy?”

“I just saw you trip?”

“Only because you tripped me.”

“Did I?”

“You must have. That’s the only explanation.”

“Then my deepest apologies. We can only hope it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t as long as you keep your feet out of the way.”

They continued dancing, but only a few steps later, Veronica stepped on his foot.

Christopher hissed, jerking back.

“Your foot was in the wrong place,” she grumbled, blushing furiously.

She expected him to be upset, to leave or complain, but instead, he chuckled.

“Perhaps after this dance we can take a turn around the room. I’m not sure my feet can take any more of ‘my’ mistakes.”

Veronica flushed looking away. “As long as you know who’s to blame.”

She couldn’t ignore the fluttering in her chest no matter how hard she tried… and oh, she tried.

She didn’t want to trust him.

Away at university or not, he didn’t just get to walk into her life after over a year as though nothing had ever happened.

“Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?” He asked as they made their way from the floor.

“What makes you think something is on my mind?”

“Perhaps the fact that I can see you thinking so hard it looks like you may combust at any moment.”

She glared. “If you must know, I was thinking that I may never forgive you.”

“Forgive me for what? Happening to be in the way of the war your feet have waged upon my shoes?”

She continued to glare but didn’t respond.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I will earn your forgiveness at some point. We have a lifetime for it after all.”

She grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be over the moon to wed a duke.”

“I’m sure my family is.”

“But not you?”

“I don’t see what there is to be excited about. We hardly know each other.”

“Then why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“Well what do you want to know?” The same as every gentleman, I’m sure. What kind of accomplishments I have and what connections I can bring to the marriage.

“Whatever you think is important.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because that alone tells me more about you than you just saying what you think I want to hear.”

“Then, I must admit, I hate dancing.”

He laughed, “And I must admit, I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Yes, this way I don’t need to worry about you tripping me again.”

“Its far better for both of our safety.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“But if you don’t like dancing, what do you like?”

She ducked her head with a small smile on her face. No one ever asked her that and meant it. “I like making lace. Mostly tatting, but I’ve done a little bobbin lace here and there. I actually made the trim on my own sleeves.”

“Truly?”

She nodded. “I know it isn’t the most usual hobby for someone to have. But I like how slow it is, and it’s nice to be able to add something to the gowns that someone else picks for me.”

He frowned, surprise on his face. “You don’t pick out your own gowns?”

She shook her head. The truth was her father had her mother order what they thought would make her seem the most appealing.

They were always so worried about the family image, there was no room for her to express herself, but she couldn’t say that.

She was a valued tool, but not a treasured daughter.

But her father would be deeply disappointed if he found out she said anything negative about her family.

Finally, she just said, “when you’re the oldest of four it’s just easier that way. After all, whatever’s bought for me is likely to work its way to one of their hands at some point. It’s better if whatever my parents choose is something the rest can be happy with.”

His frown deepened. “That doesn’t seem necessary.”

“What about you?” She quickly changed the subject. “What do you like to do?”

“Truth be told, nothing like this.”

She looked around with a frown on her face. “I don’t follow.”

“Balls, parties,” he admitted.

“So you hate parties. I never took you for a recluse.”

“I didn’t say I hate parties and I don’t. I love going out, I just prefer to do it during the day and usually outside. I prefer walking, going to street markets, things like that. All these people so close together it, just seems so stiffling.”

She shrugged. “I suppose I can see what you’re saying.”

“But you don’t agree?”

She shook her head. “More like, I can empathize. I love the bustle and excitement of a grand event like this one, but it can be draining. I need the balance, to both socialize and to be left alone.”

“Of course, it isn’t as though I hate balls. They simply aren’t my preferred way to spend an evening.”

“Then what is?” she asked. “After you spend a day in the town going for walks, what do you do?”

“Go home, perhaps enjoy dinner with friends, have a glass of brandy, maybe settle in with a good book.”

“I thought you said you weren't a recluse.”

“I hardly see how spending an evening with a book_”

His words were cut off by her sharp gasp, as she tripped and fell on a candelabra.

After that, everything happened too fast.

The candles’ flame spread quickly from the tablecloth to the wallpaper, racing across an entire quarter of the ballroom.

Chaos erupted as everyone tried to rush through the only remaining exit. Screaming and scrambling in their panic.

Christopher grabbed Veronica’s hand. She raced after him, desperate to make it to freedom. The room became too bright, the smoky air suffocating her as she panted.

This is all my fault! How could I not see the candelabra? Please tell me no one gets hurt.

The exit was in sight.

The door only feet away.

Just a little further, she told herself. You can make it. You’re going to be fine.

There was an ear shattering crack and her feet fell out from under her.

Pain exploded through Veronica’s body as a broken beam pinned her to the floor. Her necklace cut into the flesh of her chest, smearing her with blood, as she tried to struggle free.

She was pressed to the ground, even as she tried to fight to get back up on her feet, Veronica could hardly move.

“Christopher!” She reached out blindly.

He spun back to face her with a snarl of pure determination on his face. Then his hands were on the flaming beam. With a cry of effort he lifted it from her back.

“Get out of here fast!” he call over the cacophony of chaos.

She scrambled to her feet then turned to him. His face was locked on something in the distance.

“Christopher?”

“Get out!” he commanded.

“Not without you!”

“Go!” he shouted as he started walking back into the inferno.

She hesitated.

“Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

Veronica nodded then turned and ran, knowing that her life was over.