Page 11 of The Duke’s Cursed Virgin (Cursed Brides #3)
Chapter Ten
“ S ophia, make sure that the flowers are arranged properly,” Lady Holton said, scanning the table. “It would be quite unseemly to allow the Duke of Wolvesley to see anything less than perfection.”
The parlor was a warm, inviting space—a little too formal for Sophia’s tastes but perfectly suited to Lady Holton’s style.
Floral arrangements filled the room with vibrant color, competing with the rich fabrics of the furniture and the polished wood.
Sophia stifled a sigh, her fingers brushing against the polished silver. “I’ll ensure that everything is in order, Lady Holton.”
Just as she moved to retrieve a nearby teapot, the door creaked open, and the sound of boots—heavy and deliberate—echoed in the hallway.
“My Lady…” The butler entered first. “The Duke of Wolvesley is here.”
“Send him in at once!” Lady Holton exclaimed, trying to smooth her dress. She murmured something about unacceptable wrinkled silks.
“Lady Holton.”
Sophia’s heart gave a quiet, unwelcome thud as the Duke of Wolvesley stepped into the room. He cut a striking figure, his tall frame accentuated by the dark, well-tailored coat he wore. His eyes swept over the room with their usual disinterest, but they lingered for a moment on Sophia before moving elsewhere.
“Oh! Your Grace,” Lady Holton exclaimed, her eyes widening. “Welcome to our home!”
The Duke turned to Sophia, giving her a fleeting look before addressing her aunt. “I trust I’m not interrupting?”
“Not at all, Your Grace,” Lady Holton replied. “We were just attending to a few details for the musicale. Come in, I shall ring for tea.” She gave him a small, almost apologetic smile. “I do hope you’ll excuse my Anna’s absence, Your Grace. She’s attending a music lesson. But I’m sure you’ll find your time well spent here, with me in her stead.”
“And Lady Sophia,” the Duke corrected.
“Oh! Of course, of course.” Lady Holton glanced at Sophia with little regard, flustered that the Duke had to correct her. “And our dear Sophia.”
A maid rushed into the room, her face pale.
“Lady Holton, please,” she began, her voice breathless. “There’s a crisis in the kitchen—one of the servants has… Well, it’d be best if you came to see for yourself, My Lady.”
Lady Holton’s expression immediately hardened. “Well, I suppose my servants can handle themselves well enough while I entertain His Grace,” she hissed.
Sophia knew that Lady Holton would kill the poor maid if she had the chance.
The maid wrung her hands. “B-But, M-My Lady… it’s rather… urgent.”
Sophia could see the shift in Lady Holton’s expression—her rigid composure cracking just enough to reveal the deep annoyance she was trying to suppress. A faint flush of anger spread across her face, and her eyes narrowed.
“Very well,” Lady Holton said, her voice cold and biting. “I shall see to it, but I expect this will be dealt with immediately. Come along.”
She turned to Theo, who had remained silent, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes as he observed the exchange.
“Your Grace, I’m terribly sorry. It seems my attention is required elsewhere,” Lady Holton said with a forced smile. “But do not worry, my husband will be along shortly!”
Sophia had a feeling that Lady Holton had again forgotten about her, as the lady’s eyes were fixed on the Duke as she got up.
Theo nodded, his face impassive. “Of course, Lady Holton. I’m certain your presence will make all the difference.”
Lady Holton gave the Duke a sharp nod and swept out of the room, the maid trailing behind her.
Now that they were alone, Sophia’s pulse quickened.
She had to leave; Lady Holton would never leave her alone with the Duke if she weren’t that distracted.
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace.” Sophia began to rise from her seat, her eyes flicking briefly to the door.
Perhaps she could escape, find some excuse to retreat to the safety of her room.
But before she could make her move, the Duke blocked her path.
“Where are you going?” His voice was firm, with an undeniable authority that drew her attention.
Sophia straightened up, unwilling to show how unsettled she truly was. “I thought I might help Lady Holton, Your Grace.”
“I am sure Lady Holton can handle that herself,” he said. “Stay here, My Lady. Keep me company until Lord Holton arrives.”
Sophia hesitated, her heart pounding. It was tempting to stay in the room with him. Just the two of them.
She couldn’t help herself; it was as though her entire body wanted to be near him.
She took a step back, her composure faltering slightly under his intense scrutiny.
The Duke studied her for a moment, then spoke again, his voice softer, though still commanding. “I was told you spent a long time in Scotland. What was it like?”
Sophia cleared her throat, not sure why his gaze made her feel so unsettled. She glanced down at her hands, trying to keep her voice even. “Scotland? It was… peaceful, I suppose. Aunt Mary was strict but fair. The people there did not care much about…” she trailed off, unsure.
“About?”
“I am certain you know, Your Grace.”
The Duke frowned and shook his head. “Go on,” he said softly.
“Well, I was left to my own devices. It was… simpler there.”
Theo furrowed his brow, and his jaw tightened. “Did you like your life there better?”
Sophia blinked at him, the intensity in his eyes making her heart race. “I’m not sure I belong in London, Your Grace. It’s always been easier to live quietly, without the scrutiny. I’ve missed London, but perhaps Scotland suits me better.”
Theo’s expression hardened. “No.” The word was sharp, definitive. “You belong here, in the thick of it. In a place where people should recognize your strength. You’re not some fragile creature to be tucked away in some far-off corner, My Lady. Scotland might have offered you peace, but your life was here, no?”
Sophia met his gaze, unable to hide her surprise. She opened her mouth to protest, but the Duke continued, his voice low and assertive.
“I don’t believe for one moment that Scotland suits you. It suited your circumstances, but not who you are. You deserve a life where you can make your own choices, where you’re seen for who you truly are, not the gossip people spew about you.”
Sophia felt a stir in her chest, a tug of something deeper than gratitude—or perhaps fear.
Was it possible that he saw her so clearly? That he understood her better than she understood herself?
Before she could respond, his voice softened, and the hardness in his eyes seemed to dissipate, replaced by something warmer, though still protective. “Why are you not staying with your uncle? He is living in what used to be your home.”
Sophia’s throat tightened, the question hitting too close to a wound she had long buried. She took a steadying breath before answering, her voice quieter now.
“My place is with Aunt Mary.”
The Duke’s eyes narrowed, a flash of disapproval crossing his features. “Your uncle should have done better by you. Family should be there for each other.”
Sophia lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes for a moment.
“I could not burden him, Your Grace,” she murmured. “With my reputation… It’s best I stayed away.”
“Is that what he made you believe?” the Duke asked.
Sophia jerked her head up, meeting his eyes.
How could he see through to her so easily? How could he understand?
“You don’t deserve to be pushed aside like that, My Lady. Not by him, not by anyone.”
Sophia’s heart skipped a beat. His words made something stir deep within her—something she wasn’t sure she was ready to acknowledge.
Before she could say anything further, the door to the parlor swung open again, and Lord Holton appeared, his expression slightly frantic.
“Your Grace!” he exclaimed, not even noticing Sophia. “I am so terribly sorry to keep you waiting. The preparations have kept me endlessly occupied.”
“It is no matter, Lord Holton,” the Duke said curtly.
“Thank you for understanding, Your Grace. Now, shall we move to my study? We can discuss all the details more thoroughly.”
The Duke nodded, and Lord Holton ushered him out of the parlor.
But as the Duke’s eyes met hers for just a fraction of a second before he exited, Sophia wondered if that brief moment between them had meant anything more to him than she could grasp.