Page 4 of The Duke’s Defiant Angel (Dukes Gone Dirty #1)

4

E vangeline rested her head against the window’s edge as she gazed out at the familiar scene below. The hedges were the same as they’d always been. The garden, too.

She was the only thing that was different.

This could not be her life. She shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. How was this her life?

“Now, now,” her mother tutted behind her, kindness gentling her voice. “That’s enough of the tears, my dear. Your father made his decision.”

And there was no turning back now.

Her mother didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. Evangeline’s father—her kind, wise, loving father—had forsaken her.

And no one would tell her why.

“No one forces ladies into unwanted matches anymore, Mother,” she said. “What Father is doing is barbaric.”

Her mother did not disagree, but her silence was telling. While unpleasant, it was hardly unheard of for a father to enforce a marriage contract.

Evangeline had just never expected it from her father.

She’d known her entire life that she was not what her parents had wished for in a child. Namely because she was not male—that was the first mark against her. And then she’d not had the demeanor they’d desired. Much as she’d tried, she’d never been able to overcome her shyness.

But even knowing she was not the daughter they’d wished, she’d never been ill-treated. Never been forced to do anything she did not wish. Not until that ill-fated ball.

Not until today’s dreaded wedding.

“Please, Mother,” she said. “You must see that this is a mistake.”

Her mother ignored her as she fussed with the hair accessories on Evangeline’s vanity.

Why she continued to argue, she couldn’t say. It was futile. A little over a week ago, her father had called her into his office saying he’d had a caller.

She’d barely been able to sit still she’d been so happy.

Of course he’d had a caller. Albert had promised he’d speak to her father again after she’d done her duty by attending the ball in her honor, and he had. “Mr. Foley came to see you,” she’d said.

Her father’s head had come down with a gruff murmur of assent. “I’m afraid Mr. Foley and I did not see eye to eye when it came to your future happiness, Angie.”

She’d felt the floor give way beneath her with her father’s words.

He’d denied Albert. Again. For good.

Even now, she still could not understand. Albert was not wealthy, nor was he titled. But he came from a good family, and since he and his family had taken up residence on the neighboring estate a few years back, he’d been a friend to her family.

A friend to her .

It was a quiet sort of friendship. And while he’d never done more than steal a kiss of her hand beneath her favorite oak tree, she’d believed it to be as good as done.

He cared for her, and she for him. And…

And she’d been wrong.

In that moment, in her father’s study, she’d understood that with alarming clarity. Much as she’d protested and wept and railed throughout the remainder of the conversation, she’d known that her father would not be swayed.

She just hadn’t known why.

For whom.

But then her father had spoken again, his tone so cold and formal. “The Duke of Raffian has asked for your hand in marriage?—”

“Father, no!” This was a mistake. Surely there was some misunderstanding. “We’ve discussed this. After the ball, when he expressed his interest, I told you clearly that I do not wish to marry that man.”

Her father’s face had hardened. Gone was the kind, wise, gentle man who’d raised her. In his place was a stranger. “Evangeline, you are little more than a child. You know not what you want.”

“I am old enough to marry,” she’d argued. “Which means I am old enough to have some say in who I marry.”

“You would make a decision based on some childish infatuation?” Her father had openly scoffed, and her already bruised heart had broken. Her stomach had pitched and roiled as he’d continued, telling her how Foley couldn’t offer her the life of a duchess. How if Foley truly cared for her, he’d see that—and he had.

Supposedly. According to her father, Foley had relented with grace.

“I don’t believe you,” she’d said then.

She whispered it again now as she glanced down at the courtyard below.

Guests would already be arriving at the church in Hanover Square. The duke was likely already there, preparing for their nuptials.

“The carriage is waiting,” her mother said.

Evangeline sniffed. This was farewell to her family home. After the wedding, she’d be off to the duke’s country home for a fortnight. Now her home.

She pressed her lips together to hold back a sob. This was also farewell to the life she’d always known.

Farewell to the life she’d always wanted.

And why? All because some conceited, overbearing duke had decided that he wanted her. He’d claimed her as she might have a doll from a shelf as a child. Mine , she’d have said, and then snatched it off the shelf.

That was precisely what the duke had done. And in doing so, he’d ruined her life.

“I hate him,” she said in a watery voice.

Her mother’s sigh was loud and exasperated. “Dearest, you cannot sulk your way through a wedding to a duke.”

Evangeline set her lips in a stubborn line. Her mother had been alternating between understanding and irritated ever since her father’s decree.

Mostly, though, her mother was just thrilled at being able to tell her friends that her daughter was to be a duchess.

“No one ever said I had to be happy about being married off to a cruel tyrant with ill manners either,” she said.

She sounded like a child, and she knew it. But this was her last chance to speak freely. Her last opportunity, even if futile, to make arguments against this marriage.

Her mother sighed again. “You don’t even know the man?—”

“Precisely.” She whipped around to face her mother. “But from what little I do know, he has the manners of a brute and no consideration at all for my feelings.”

Her mother’s lips firmed into a thin line. She could not argue that. “Dear, you must not judge the man based solely on gossip and scandal sheets,” her mother started.

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m judging him based on the way he spoke to me at the ball.”

“He took a fancy to you,” her mother said. “Any young lady would be delighted to know they’d caught the eye of a duke.”

“Well, then let her have him,” Evangeline said. Her voice broke with emotion, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Mother, I am sorry. I know I’m behaving badly. I just…” She shook her head. “I do not understand Father’s actions.”

Her mother came over with a tolerant smile. She fussed with Evangeline’s curls. “It is not for you to understand. Just know that your father always has the best interests of this family in mind. We all have a duty to the family.” Her gaze met Evangeline’s evenly. “All of us.”

Evangeline swallowed hard, thoroughly chastened. She’d never had friends—not until Albert, if he could be called that. Family was everything. She understood that. But that was precisely the problem.

What sort of family could she have with a man like the duke?

All of the dreams she’d harbored—of marrying for love, of having children, and living a quiet life in the country with her family around her…

She had to bid farewell to that, as well.

Her mother forced a small smile. “I’ve coddled you too much, I fear. Your father, too.”

Evangeline’s lips quivered. Was that what this was? Her father and mother seemed to think her a child for wanting a say in her future. “Is it so very wrong to want to be happy?”

“You can be happy as a duchess?—”

“I hate being the center of attention,” she said, turning away, back toward the window. “I’ve never wanted to dwell amongst the ton. I’ve only ever wanted one thing.”

Love.

The word went unspoken. Her mother would only call her childish again if she spoke of such things.

Her mother sighed. “Dearest, what you and Mr. Foley shared…”

Evangeline stiffened. She could not talk to her mother about Albert just now. Not now when she was about to marry.

“I suspected you might not listen to me,” her mother continued. Something in her voice had Evangeline turning to face her.

“Which is why I’ve arranged for you to meet with your friend,” her mother said, her expression pinched with warning.

Hope had Evangeline straightening away from the window’s edge. “Mother, do you mean…?”

Her mother turned away with a sigh and opened the door to say something in a muffled voice. She turned back with the door still partially open. “Don’t forget your duty to your family,” her mother said sternly. “And for heaven’s sake, don’t do anything to ruin this gift we’ve been given.”

“What—” Before she could finish, her mother slipped out, and Albert came in.

“Albert.” She threw herself into his waiting arms. He held her tight, and when she pulled back, she saw that he was just as distraught as she. His blond hair seemed to have wilted into his eyes, and his eyes looked sunken and hollow. “Oh, Albert. I cannot believe my father denied you.”

“Hush, my love, it will be all right.” He mustered an encouraging smile. “Your mother wishes for me to calm you?—”

“Don’t listen to her,” Evangeline said.

Even as she said it, her mind filled with her mother’s parting words. Her duty to her family.

Her heart sank all over again. Even if Albert wanted to whisk her away to Gretna Green, she could not be so disobedient. Her family’s name would never recover from the scandal. And so she wept in Albert’s arms as he consoled her.

Some part of her marveled at this scene they were enacting. How very tragic that the first time her love had ever held her in his arms it was on her wedding day. To another man.

“He’s horrible.” She sniffed as she pulled back. “You know I would never choose him over you.”

“For your sake, I hope he is not as cruel as they claim.” His mouth was set in a grim line that made her belly tremble.

Cruel? Was that what they said? She’d heard whispers about the duke but knew little for certain.

“If he is unbearable, love, you must tell me.” His voice was earnest, his pale eyes bright with affection. “You have only to say the word, my dearest, and I will be there to save you. I will take you away from this fiend who’s come between us.”

She pulled back, her heart breaking at his determination.

Truthfully, she could not imagine ever harming her family in such a way. She might have been a disappointment to them, but they were the only home she’d ever known.

But for his sake, she nodded. “Yes, Albert.”

He turned away from her with one last parting glance.

“And Albert—” she called as he went to slip outside again, their time being so painfully short. “He may claim me as his wife, but he will never have my heart.”

The words were treacly and mawkish, perhaps, but they needed to be said. For she’d never been more certain of anything.

She’d thought ill of the duke after his abhorrent behavior at the ball, but right now, she despised him with every part of her.

Albert’s smile was tremulous, and he turned away with a sad sigh.

Sniffing and swiping away her tears, a few moments later, Evangeline followed in his wake, joining her mother to leave for the church.

The pews of the grand cathedral were full, though Evangeline knew few of the guests aside from her family. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the man at the front of the church.

The duke.

Her heart twisted and rebelled as his gaze caught hers. She walked down the aisle, a prisoner on her way to the gallows. That was how it felt, at least.

She was being melodramatic, obviously. She knew that, but she didn’t care.

She was an actress, after all. That’s what today was. A performance.

A farce.

As she moved down the aisle, her skin burned where the stares fell. Her insides revolted at this display.

She hated it. She’d never wanted it.

Her gaze met his again, so fierce and so smug. The predator who’d caught his prey.

She hated him.

Despite the heat crackling through her at being the center of attention, sheer dread had the blood rushing from her head, leaving her pale and dizzy when she reached his side.

The duke’s hand came to her arm, and she flinched. She despised this man with all her heart and soul. But if she didn’t want to collapse right here and now...she needed him.

“I’ve got you, Angel,” he said in that low, emotionless voice of his as he steadied her. “You’re safe now.”

She blinked up at him, her lips parted in surprise. Was that what he thought? She was safe?

Did he think her happy, too?

This fool. This maddening, arrogant, overbearing fool.

“It’s almost over,” he murmured again a little while later as the minister’s voice droned on.

Was it? She didn’t care. Because for her, the moment this farce ended, the true nightmare would begin.