Page 3 of The Duke’s Replacement Bride (The Wild Brides #6)

“ C ongratulations, Your Grace!”

It was the fourth time in a row that someone had stopped the couple to congratulate the duke, but hadn’t had anything of the sort to say to Caroline.

At first, she had wondered whether the title Your Grace might not simply be meant for her as well.

After all, she was a duchess in her own right now that she’d said her vows.

But the moment she had stopped to receive the congratulations, it had been clear that they were only meant for her husband.

No one had given her the slightest attention since the wedding ended.

Well, no one other than a widowed lady who had eyed her carefully and said, “You aren’t Lady Prudence.”

“No, I’m not,” Caroline had agreed. The sound of her sister’s name was like cold water poured over her head.

Even if she had been enjoying this wedding day—and she wasn’t—it would have been impossible to focus on her own joy through the knowledge that Prudence was still missing.

She worried terribly about her, and at the same time, she felt no small amount of anger.

She herself had been forced into this marriage because Prudence had fled it!

But she’s my younger sister. It’s my duty to stand between her and terrible things. I’m doing my job.

The widow had eyed her carefully before moving on. The whole encounter had left Caroline feeling strange, but at least that lady had spoken to her. No one else had taken the time to do even that.

At the wedding breakfast, seated at the table beside the duke felt to Caroline like a prison. She wished she could get up and run away to her bedroom.

But that’s not my bedroom any longer. This is not my house anymore.

The dowager duchess sat across the table from Caroline and the duke, her eyes boring into Caroline.

They had been very briefly introduced before the wedding, and while the dowager duchess had not spoken to Caroline since the ceremony had ended, Caroline felt as if the woman hadn’t taken her eyes off her.

It was deeply intimidating, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

“You look familiar, Your Grace.”

The voice came from Caroline’s other side, away from her husband, and this time she was sure the voice she’d heard was speaking to her. And sure enough, when she turned to face the speaker, a pair of all-too-familiar eyes bored into hers.

Charles . The man who had harassed her at the tavern.

The duke had referred to him as a cousin, yet it hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that he might be present at her wedding. But he was here, all right, and had somehow managed to claim the seat right beside her own.

“Have we met, Your Grace?” he asked her now.

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” she told him, which was true enough. “I don’t know your name.”

“Charles Membury. Baron of Talbot.” He smiled at her. “And you, of course, are the Duchess of Mowbray.”

It was the first time anyone had spoken the full title aloud, and it sent a little shiver down Caroline’s spine. “I suppose I am,” she agreed.

“How exciting for you—to be a duchess, I mean. You must be over the moon.”

“The duke honors me.” It was the closest to the truth she was able to say.

“And you’re sure you and I haven’t met before?” Charles asked. “I have to say, your face looks very familiar.”

Had he recognized her from the tavern? She didn’t think he had—the expression on his face was one of genuine uncertainty. But she wasn’t about to help him figure it out.

“I haven’t met you, my lord,” she told him. “I’m pleased to be meeting you now, however.”

“Yes,” he said pensively. “I suppose we’re going to be family.”

She began to turn away. Her first impression of this man had not been good, and her second impression of him wasn’t starting off much better.

But he reached out and caught her by the arm. “Hold on a moment,” he said.

She tried to pull away from him. “Sir—unhand me, please.”

“A moment. I’m sure I’ve seen your face before,” he told her. “Now, where would I have seen you? A ball, perhaps? But if so, why can’t I recall? And do you truly mean what you say when you tell me you don’t remember me at all? I feel as if something must have happened between the two of us…”

She pulled away from him again.

His grip tightened on her arm, and a scowl overtook his face. “There’s no need to be so hasty,” he said sharply. “I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen your face before, and you will remain still and allow me the time to look at you.”

Fear swept through her.

But it had no time to take hold. She heard the sound of her husband’s voice. “Cousin, unhand my wife at once. What do you mean by this?”

The baron released her, though the ugly scowl didn’t fade from his face. “I recognize her from somewhere, Levi,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out where.”

“Well, you’ll keep her hands off of her while you figure that out,” the duke snapped. “This is my wife, Charles. You won’t disrespect me like this, and you won’t disrespect her either.”

He held out a hand to Caroline. “It’s time to go,” he said.

“Wait a moment,” Caroline’s father spoke up, and only then did she realize the whole table had fallen silent to watch the three of them. Everyone had noticed the outburst. Now Caroline’s father had begun to rise to his feet. “The wedding breakfast is not yet over,” he objected.

“It’s over for us,” the duke said firmly. “We’ll be taking our leave now, thank you very much.”

Caroline half expected her father to go on arguing, but he didn’t, of course. He stood there in stunned silence as the duke led her from the table and out through the foyer. Caroline’s father would never argue with a duke. He had never had that kind of strength, and he didn’t have it now.

A carriage awaited them, and Caroline allowed herself to be helped into it. Unlike her father, she would have been willing to argue if she had disliked what was happening. She would have been willing to tell the duke she was not leaving and wanted to finish breakfast.

But between one thing and another, she found that she did not want to stay.

No one was treating her particularly warmly, and they all seemed more interested in who she wasn’t than in who she was.

And she certainly didn’t want to wait for Charles to figure out why he recognized her. It was bad enough that the duke knew.

On the other hand, now she was on her own with her husband. And that was something that filled her with dread.

As the carriage pulled away, she drew a deep breath and forced herself to make eye contact with him. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you for helping me with him.”

The duke let out a grunt of acknowledgement.

“Why did you do it?” she asked.

He glanced at her briefly. “You’re my wife,” he told her. “No one may put their hands on you without my permission—it dishonors me, and I won’t allow it.”

“I suppose that’s what you care most about? Your own honor?”

“You can’t expect me not to care for my honor.”

“No, I suppose I can’t.”

“You’re my wife. No one touches what’s mine.”

The words sent another shiver down her spine—they were so possessive. “You didn’t much care who you married,” she said. “You wanted a wife, that was all.”

He didn’t answer. She supposed she could hardly fault him—she had not asked a question.

She tried again, taking care to ask one now. “What does it mean to you, having a wife?” she asked him. “Why have you set so much store by it? What do you want—what do you expect from me?”

She could hardly believe she’d dared to frame the question so openly. It frightened her.

He surveyed her. “It’s good that you asked, because I do have expectations,” he said.

“You might have brought them up before we married.”

“I don’t think you’ll find anything I have to say too onerous,” he said. “I expect you to eat dinner with me every night. Can you manage that?”

“Yes, I think I can,” she said dryly.

“I also expect you to perform the duties of a wife.”

Dread came over her.

The wedding night.

Despite the fact that Prudence had said she’d had no fear of it, Caroline found it hard to believe that that wasn’t a factor in her sister’s decision to run away.

She’d been rushed so quickly into this marriage that she had forgotten to consider that she was facing the prospect of that event now herself.

And she had no hesitation at all in admitting that she was frightened by the idea—it wasn’t something she had ever planned on undertaking, and now it was happening.

And yet, what could she say? He had described it as a duty, and she knew perfectly well that he had been correct. A duty was exactly what it was.

She turned the subject. “I suppose you plan to stop behaving like a rake, then, now that we’re married.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A rake? Is that what you think I am?”

“It’s what I know you are. Don’t forget the way we met.”

“I haven’t forgotten. And if I’m not mistaken, it’s you who was outside the bounds of what society expects of you on that occasion. I didn’t want to say anything to your parents, but to be spied on is more than I can tolerate.”

“And what I said is also true. Not everything is about you, Your Grace. I didn’t go to that tavern with the intention of spying on you. How could I have? You and I never met before that day. I didn’t know who you were when I saw you, so how could I have spied effectively?”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Levi,” he said.

She was startled. For a moment, she couldn’t process that as a logical response to anything she had said. “What?”

“My name is Levi,” he said. “You wanted to know what I expect of my wife—one thing is to be called by my name. Levi.”

She nodded. “All right.” Would he call her Caroline? She had to suppose that he would—but if he meant to, he clearly didn’t intend to start now. He said nothing.

She cleared her throat. “Am I allowed to ask for something too?”

“Ask for something?”

“From our marriage. From my husband.”

He looked at her. “Go on.”

“I want…” She hesitated. “I want to feel as if I’m a part of things. A part of society. I have enough trouble blending in. Now that I’m a duchess, I want to belong. I want to attend parties, and as my husband, I want you to attend them with me.

She held her breath, sure that he was going to refuse.

But he regarded her for a moment and then nodded. “A fair request,” he said. “Very well. You keep to your duties, and I shall keep to mine.”

He didn’t speak another word for the rest of the carriage ride, leaving Caroline with nothing to do but ponder the duties of a wife—and when and how she might be called upon to keep them.