Page 16 of The Duchess and the Beast (Marriage by Midnight #1)

“What do you think?” Virtue asked Lucy as she weighed a bottle in each hand. “Wine or brandy?”

“Only a couple weeks without your fancy exotic teas, and you are already falling into drinking habits?” Lucy giggled.

“You know what it’s for.” Virtue rolled her eyes. “Wine or brandy?”

“Wine is more romantic,” Lucy pointed out.

“I suppose…” Virtue mused, considering her options, before raising the other bottle. “But brandy tends to go down easier.”

“Are you hoping to have him in his cups?”

Virtue flashed a mischievous grin. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

Lucy snorted in response. “Well, there is your answer then. Here–” She reached out and took the bottle of wine from Virtue’s hand. “I will return this to the kitchen. Or perhaps to my room. We’ll see how the evening unfolds.”

Virtue giggled. “And you have spoken to the kitchen staff? They know they won’t be expected to serve supper tonight?”

“I have,” Lucy confirmed. “They weren’t too thrilled about it either, especially when I instructed them not to inform His Grace.”

“And you made sure to point out that it was upon my instruction?”

“Of course. I may have also intimated that should they breathe a word to their master, they would find your temper rivals that of His Grace himself,” Lucy replied, her tone half-serious.

“Very good,” Virtue snorted with amusement. Then she took a step back and surveyed the setting one final time, making sure that all was in order. It was a modest setup—just a blanket and a single chandelier yet to be lit, but once night fell and darkness was upon them… well, she very much expected the mood set to be precisely as she required. “Yes,” she nodded approvingly. “This will do quite nicely.”

“I’m sure he is bound to adore it.”

“He had better,” Virtue responded with a scowl. “If tonight unfolds as I envision, Lucy, I dare say tomorrow will be a most wonderful day.”

“Charming,” Lucy remarked dryly at the underlying implication of that sentiment. “I suppose I shall allow you a morning’s respite then.”

It was time for decisive action.

The past five days had seen Virtue and Sebastian cautiously navigating the waters of their new relationship, gradually becoming more and more familiar with each other’s boundaries and temperaments. Polite exchanges only. Carefully curated conversations—no arguing, no bickering, and certainly no topics that could lead to flared tempers. It reminded Virtue of the early days of her courtship to Lord Prescott, when she had been a bundle of nerves and simply glad that she could speak to him without tripping over her tongue and embarrassing herself.

Yet, this modest approach was no longer enough. She and Sebastian weren’t in the early stages of courtship. They were husband and wife. And by all rights should have been far beyond this ‘innocent’ stage. And where she could see that the Duke was trying his best, she also sensed that he was still holding back a part of himself.

The short and passionate kiss they shared last week was a testament to that. It still made her body flush to remember, and she still berated herself for trying to remove his mask right when she had him where she so desperately wanted. But it also went some way to ensure her that the feelings of desire she felt were shared between them, and all she needed to do was give him a gentle push to move them past this plateau…

“Right.” She clapped her hands together and nodded once. “How long before supper?”

“A few hours still.”

“Perfect. Plenty of time to prepare myself then.” And so, that was what she did.

Or at least what she intended to do, but it was as Virtue wandered through the castle, reaching the foyer by which she would walk up the stairs to her quarters, that there came a knock at the main door. She paused when she heard it, surprised by its suddenness. In a castle such as this one, the visitors were often announced—seen from the main gates and called to. She supposed that this late in the day, the staff were busy with other tasks, and any remaining footmen were helping tend to the renovations of the back gardens, so whoever it was had managed to slip by them.

Another knock came. Albion was nowhere in sight. Likely, it was just one of her husband’s friends, and a chance to glean further insights into the man she had married. Sebastian had yet to introduce her properly to any of them, and if the butler got to the door first, she would likely never be introduced. So, lifting her skirts, she quietly hastened to it herself, and when she reached the door, she fixed the best smile on her face, thinking a good first impression might go a long way.

However, as she opened the door, the smile she had so meticulously prepared faltered and fell away.

“Lord… Lord Prescott?” Virtue gasped, her heart plunging to the depths of her stomach.

“Your Grace,” Lord Prescott crooned, falling into an elaborate bow, before meeting her eyes again with a dashing smirk. “I surmise from your facial expression that you were not expecting to see me?”

Lord Prescott… her former betrothed, stood unexpectedly on the threshold of Castle Greystone. Of all the gentlemen in England, he was the last she anticipated encountering here, especially given the abrupt end to their engagement—an end he had instigated, and subsequently, taken great pains to avoid her since.

Virtue’s breath grew trapped in her lungs. “What… what in heavens are you doing here?” she choked out, her eyes wide.

His smile was grand and broad and most of all, striking. Although she hated to admit it, he was a good-looking man, tall, strapping, and alluring to a fault. Light features, pale blue eyes, a square jaw, and a perfectly sized nose that was symmetrical and strong. His appearance was as charismatic as ever, though now it brought a twinge of uneasiness as opposed to admiration.

“Perhaps I should have sent word,” he remarked with a chuckle.

“Indeed, you should have,” Virtue replied with a piercing edge in her voice. There was a time, not long past, when an unsolicited call from Lord Prescott would have left her heart in disarray—desperate for explanations, for resolutions, and perhaps, secretly, for a chance at mending what was left of their relationship. He had, with a singular cruelty, shattered her self-confidence so thoroughly that she found herself questioning her very worth. Many were the nights Virtue had spent in solitude, her tears soaking the pillows of her bedchamber, and countless hours passed in the silent company of books within her library, nursing a wounded spirit. But now, standing before him, she felt a surge of indignation rather than confusion or longing. She squared her shoulders, “So, I must ask again, what brings you to my home?”

His grin faltered. “I—I was just in the area. You are aware, of course, that I own some land this way and I was merely passing by.” He attempted another charming smile, but Virtue fixed him with a stern look. “Well, truthfully...” He held his hands up in a gesture of harmlessness. “I had heard of your marriage with the Duke of Greystone, as has most of London, and seeing as I was in the vicinity…”

“Seeing as you were in the vicinity…?”

He pressed his lips together, his eyes briefly flitting past her. Seemed to consider a moment as he looked back over his shoulder. Finally, turning to face her fully again, he whispered, “Is there…” He sucked through his teeth. “Is there a chance we might have a word in private?”

Again, had this been just a month ago, Virtue would not have hesitated to take him up on his offer. Now, however, she was rather surprised by how much she had changed. Lord Prescott no longer had her heart and never before had she been more aware of it. A word in private? Whatever could he…

Suddenly, the deeper implications of his words struck her. Virtue’s eyes widened in sudden alarm, and she quickly turned to ensure that no one was within earshot.

“You need to leave,” she hissed at him.

He scoffed. “Oh, do not be so dramatic, Virtue. I only wish to talk. Surely, you can grant me that much?”

“Lord Prescott.” Her tone was firm, betraying no room for negotiation.

“Aaron,” he corrected, leaning a touch closer. “I was always Aaron to you.”

Virtue almost scoffed. Again, she glanced at the foyer. “I must insist you leave the grounds. Now!”

“Why? Afraid your husband might see us?” he chortled, his confidence bordering on arrogance. “Please, I am quite capable of handling him. From what I have heard, he does not much like people, anyhow. Where is he, then? Cooped up in his chambers, I presume?” Another smug bout of laughter.

“Try right behind you.” The rumble of her husband’s deep voice had Virtue’s hair standing up on end. Yet it was nothing compared to the stark pallor that overtook Lord Prescott’s face.

His posture stiffened. His eyes widened. And with a slow, deliberate motion, he turned to find Sebastian standing directly behind him.

It was funny. Virtue had always perceived Lord Prescott as a formidable figure—an influential man with a domineering presence. And where his presence fell away, his wealth stretched far beyond. However, confronted by her husband now, Lord Prescott’s stature seemed to diminish—he appeared more like a mouse caught in the formidable gaze of a lion.

“Y-Your Grace,” the man stammered before straightening. “I did not see you there.”

“Prescott, is it?” He stalked toward Lord Prescott, putting himself mere inches before the man. The stark difference in stature was only emphasized more the closer he got. Sebastian appeared like a mountain before him.

“It is Lord—That… that’s right.”

“And may I inquire what business you have in my home? Speaking alone with my wife? Or should I simply guess?”

“I was… I was just—” Lord Prescott’s tone faltered, clearly unnerved and struggling to say anything coherent under Sebastian’s intense scrutiny.

“He was just passing by,” Virtue hurried to explain for him. “And he was just leaving. Weren’t you?” She arched a brow at the man.

Lord Prescott looked for a moment like he might deny the statement. But one quick glance at Sebastian, the sheer savagery that radiated off him as if one wrong word spoken might see him lift Lord Prescott from the ground and tear his head right from his shoulders, and he seemed to think better of it.

“That is correct.” He straightened and attempted to imbue himself with some semblance of command. “As the lady says, I was simply in the neighborhood and, having heard of the wedding, I thought I might pay my respects. That is all.”

“Consider them paid,” Sebastian muttered darkly.

“Yes, well…” He glanced at Virtue for assistance, but she offered him none. “The two of you look very…” He swallowed. “Happy. I am glad to see it.”

“Make sure you pass it along,” Virtue beamed, enjoying the way Lord Prescott shook in his boots.

“I shall do just that.” He nodded once, again straightened his spine, and then forced a smile which was a sickly thing. “Good day to both of you and, ah… thank you for your hospitality.”

Sebastian stepped to the side and indicated for Lord Prescott to walk on by. Which he did do, seeming to skulk by her husband’s hulking mass. A pitiful display, Virtue thought, one in which Lord Prescott very much came out looking all the weaker. Something she could never have imagined from the man.

Saying nothing, the two watched as he reached his horse, climbed on top, and then rode from the estate, not once looking back. It was a strange display, from start to finish, and where Virtue might have liked to have wondered further at what in the heavens had just happened and why, she felt her husband’s steely eyes on her suddenly and all thoughts of Lord Prescott fled her.

Virtue faced him, her gaze wide and trembling, dreading his reaction. She was certain it would be one of anger, and not the kind that had an undercurrent of affection or sultriness. “I have no idea what he was doing here,” she rushed to explain in a single breath.

He regarded her intently for a moment. No. Longer. So long, in fact, that she felt herself begin to sweat. And then, most curiously, a smile crept up the side of his face. “I would be surprised if you did.”

She blinked, taken aback. “You believe me?”

“Of course,” he replied, holding that smile. “From the looks of things, you are even more surprised by his presence than I.”

“I am!”

“And seeing him again?” he continued, his smile slowly fading, though he made an effort to appear as nonchalant as ever. “Is he as you remember?”

That had her frowning. “How do you mean?”

“He is quite handsome, is he not?” There it was. A flicker of jealousy that he failed to entirely mask.

Virtue smirked playfully. “Is he? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Of course not.” He tilted his head as he searched her face intently. His expression was serious, not quite smiling, yet not mad. It seemed as if he was trying to peer into her soul, convinced that she must still find Lord Prescott attractive.

A shame then that she was telling the truth. Oh sure, he was undoubtedly good-looking. There was no denying that. But she did not find him handsome, nor desirable any longer. In fact, she loathed him as if he were a rodent who had snuck into her home. And witnessing him cower in the presence of her husband—it only amplified the confusing feelings she had begun to hold for Sebastian. A beast, maybe. But also a man who could protect her from the world.

“Supper tonight?” she started as his gaze drifted across the horizon, just in time to see Lord Prescott disappear. “Will I be seeing you?”

He turned back sharply, his brow furrowed in mild confusion. “Of course. Unless you have other plans? Not planning to elope with that dandy, I hope?”

She snorted at the absurdity of the suggestion. “I don’t think there is any chance of that happening. I would rather bed down with one of the hounds from the kennel than he.”

Sebastian laughed at that. “It is nice to know who my competition is, at least.”

Their eyes met, and a shared smile blossomed as Virtue reached out and touched his arm gently. Not an action she planned, but a natural response to their shared moment. Surprisingly, Sebastian didn’t pull back—instead, he welcomed her touch, his smile deepening, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

Yes, they had come a long way these past few days. Just a week ago, had Lord Prescott turned up at Castle Greystone, she couldn’t fathom the chaos that might have ensued. Nothing favorable was her bet. But now, they were in a place where they could laugh it off, knowing it meant nothing, happy to continue on the path they had set.

Unbeknownst to Sebastian, however, was that Virtue had a new path carved out and ready for them to walk later tonight. And where she might have harbored concerns about how it might unfold, after what had just happened here, she knew she had nothing to fear. Tonight, just a few hours from now, everything was set to change.