Page 31 of The Beast’s Duchess (Duchesses of Inconvenience #1)

Chapter One

The Consequences Of Your Behavior

“ Y our Grace, please let me announce your presence to Lord Cyder—” the steward began, his voice full of barely contained panic and fear.

“So he can run from me yet again? I think not. He has avoided this conversation for too long already.” Gilbert Rayfare, the Duke of Valleron, frowned at the door.

He was not a man known for his patience, and it was wearing thin with Richard Cadhill, the Earl of Cyderton.

The man has a debt to pay, and thrice now he has put me off. I will not allow this to happen for the fourth time.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his reflection in the window. Gilbert was a tall man, with wavy chestnut-brown hair and blue eyes so pale that they were almost grey.

He schooled his features into a carefully neutral expression.

Do not display any weakness. No emotion.

He glanced at the thin, balding steward and the two guards standing on either side of him.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, the expression on his face clearly asking, You would dare lay hands on a duke ?

The guards bowed their heads in shame as he pushed past them and strode into Lord Cyderton’s study.

The smell of ink, fine polished mahogany, and paper greeted him. Gilbert swept a lock of his hair from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the man before him.

“Your Grace, I was not expecting you.” Lord Cyderton’s hand rested on the book in front of him, the quill in his other hand hanging mid-air.

The Earl of Cyderton cut an imposing figure. There was a hardness about him that most people instinctively feared. Gilbert, however, was not most people.

I am not some boy of seventeen, but a man of eight-and-twenty, and I have faced worse opponents than you.

“I find that hard to believe.” Gilbert shook his head, glancing meaningfully at one of the seats in front of Lord Cyderton’s desk.

At least the man has had the good sense to stand up in my presence.

“I am sure you know why I am here, Lord Cyderton.”

Lord Cyderton winced. “Your Grace, this is not the most convenient time, perhaps?—”

“I have no wish to be put off with another of your lies, Lord Cyderton. You will speak to me now, or else there will be consequences.” Gilbert’s voice was full of iron, leaving little room for argument. “Do not take my patience thus far for weakness.”

Lord Cyderton swallowed and gestured to the seat in front of him, forgetting that he had a quill in his hand still. “Very well. Would you care to take a seat, Your Grace? Perhaps a drink? I have some fine scotch.”

He seemed to realize the impertinence of the gesture, for he hastily put his quill down and slammed the book shut. Gilbert only just managed not to wince.

He will have smudged all the ink and shall have to redo it all over again. What a waste of paper.

“I shall decline your offer of a drink. I am here to talk business, not pleasantries.” Gilbert sat in the chair as though it were a throne and he were some passing royalty, lounging in its comfort.

He knew it was an improper way to sit, but he wanted the other man to understand who was in control here. Unbidden, an image of a time long past swam into his mind, where he had perched on the same chair.

No, I will not think of that now. I am not the same scared, na?ve orphan I was at sixteen.

Gilbert forced the image away and focused on the worried face of Lord Cyderton before him.

“You are three months late with your payment, Lord Cyderton.” He studied the man coolly. “I was kind to you when I agreed to our timetable, but do not think to take advantage of that. If you cannot pay me on the quarterly basis we agreed upon, then I shall have to think of other terms.”

“Your Grace, please. Be reasonable.” Lord Cyderton wrung his hands. “I am trying my best.”

“Are you, indeed? That is a rather worrying prospect if this is your best.” Gilbert canted his head as he drummed a finger on the arm of his chair.

“You assured me that you, a most honorable and adept businessman, would be perfectly able to make your payments on our agreed schedule. Did you lie to me then, My Lord?”

“Your Grace, of course not. I merely. It is… The harvest—” Lord Cyderton stammered out.

“The harvest is not for some months and should not affect your ability to pay me on time. I would expect your payments to have come from other sources of income from the estate. Unless you have poorly mismanaged my lands.” Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the Earl, catching the fleeting look of frustration the man tried to hide.

Will he dare claim that these are not my lands?

“I have done no such thing. This estate has been most profitable under my leadership and with the help of my daughter.” The Earl flushed as he said this, embarrassment clear on his face.

How unusual, a man willing to accept a woman’s help.

Gilbert kept his expression neutral, not wanting to show the Earl his curiosity. He knew that Cyderton had indeed become a profitable estate in the last few years. The thought sparked a flame of anger as he remembered just how much he was owed.

I must not be distracted from my purpose.

“You cannot claim that you need more time but that the estate is profitable. Either the estate is profitable and you will give me what I am owed, or the estate is not profitable and you need more time.” Gilbert hated being lied to more than anything. “Which is it?”

The Earl tugged nervously at the collar of his shirt.

He swallowed hard, the tension clear in his shoulders as he said, “Your Grace, please, I am sure you are only too aware of the complexity of such things. The estate is doing well, but the amount you have asked for would be a struggle for many estates in the land, even the most profitable.”

“And yet you assured me you could pay it,” Gilbert reminded him coolly.

“What choice did I have?” the Earl snapped, his composure breaking.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “We always have a choice, Lord Cyderton. And all decisions come with consequences.”

The Earl shook his head, frustration and powerlessness plain on his face. “I just… I do not understand why you are doing this. Please, Your Grace, if you would just?—”

“Do not play coy with me, we have been over this before. And I shall not revisit history. I am here to collect what I am owed. Do you have it for me or not?” Gilbert’s eyes flashed with anger.

The Earl sighed. “No, Your Grace, but I would beg leniency. I have tried my hardest to get you what you are owed.”

“Have you, indeed?” Gilbert paused, a thoughtful look on his face as he waited for Lord Cyderton to speak.

“Yes. Truly, Your Grace, I have.” Lord Cyderton nodded emphatically.

Gilbert stroked his chin. “Well, I suppose hard work should be rewarded, and if it were true that you had worked as hard as you could to find my money, then perhaps I could be persuaded to be lenient.”

“What do you mean?” Lord Cyderton looked confused.

“Do not play coy with me, My Lord. I know that you have frequented gentlemen’s clubs and gambling dens.” Gilbert let the disgust he felt seep into his voice.

Lord Cyderton paled, gaping in horror. “You… But I…”

“You do not have my money because you gambled it away. Because you relied on the whims of fortune and fate. And they have not been kind to you.” Gilbert gestured around them.

“How many other men do you owe money to now? The Viscount Trent says you owe him 3 guineas. The Marquess of Avon says he is owed nearly 23 guineas. I could go on and on.”

The Earl’s face was now a delicate shade of green, and for a moment Gilbert thought the man would be sick. The man shook, shame evident in his posture. There was a beat of silence as Gilbert let him stew in his poor decisions.

“Your Grace. I… I confess I was desperate. It was a foolish decision,” Lord Cyderton muttered, staring at the ground.

“Indeed it was, and now I must suffer for your foolishness? I hardly think that is fair.” Gilbert leaned back in his chair, fixing him with a cold look.

“I’m growing tired of this conversation.

If you do not have what I am owed, I shall send the bailiffs around in the morning to collect it from your estate. ”

He stood up and made to turn around, but the Earl’s panicked scrambling distracted him.

“Your Grace. Please, do not do this, I beg you. Surely there must be another way?” Lord Cyderton’s desperation and humiliation were evident on his face. “I will do anything, anything . Please, show us mercy.”

Gilbert paused, studying the distraught man before him. Something stirred in his chest, but he ignored it.

He deserves this.

Hardening his heart, he turned away from the Earl, catching sight of a painting on the wall.

In it, the Earl stood with his arms around a pretty woman with light blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was smiling. In front of her sat two girls, clearly their daughters. They both had auburn hair, though the older of the two had hair that was wavy and wild.

Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle with some inner fire, the curve of her mouth slightly upturned. A challenge to the world. It was a look that said she would not be tamed. No man could break her.

With the help of my daughter…

The words echoed in Gilbert’s head as an idea began to form. Slowly, he turned back to the Earl, and he pinned him in place with his stare.

“Very well then,” he relented in a calm voice, “I will forgive your debt in its entirety. I will even allow what led to the debt to become nothing more than history. Water under the bridge.”

The Earl’s eyes widened in surprise, and Gilbert could see the relief wash over him.

Now for the strike.

Before the Earl could say anything, Gilbert added, “On one condition.”

The Earl nodded, his enthusiasm and joy evident. “Anything, Your Grace. Anything you ask of me. Name it, and it is yours.”

“Your eldest daughter, she is of marriageable age, is she not?” Gilbert pointed to the painting.

Lord Cyderton frowned. “Yes, Audrey has been out for five years now.”