Page 3 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)

Chapter Three

“ Y ou went to a duel, and you have come back with a wife?” Lady Cora Baine, looked at her brother with her mouth agape as she leaned back in the armchair, her feet on the coffee table.

Archer Baine, Duke of Dashings, massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers.

He had returned from his duel to find his sisters, Cora and Juliet waiting for him in the drawing room of Dashings manor.

Both had been white faced with worry, and Archer could tell by his sister Cora’s ruffled and wild hair that she had been pacing ever since he had left.

“A fiancée technically.” He shrugged and poured himself a drink, arching an eyebrow at Cora as his eyes fell to her feet.

She removed them swiftly, her cheeks reddening, but before she could say anything, Juliet interjected, “Did she really throw herself between the two of you?”

“Yes.” Archer’s jaw tightened at the memory of Lydia flinging herself in front of his gun, his heart thumping wildly as his finger pulled the trigger. “It is a miracle she wasn’t killed.”

“I can only assume that is because you were not trying to shoot her brother, but simply to scare him?” Cora arched an eyebrow at him knowingly.

“There is little point in taking a life for a debt. The boy is headstrong and a fool, but that does not mean he deserves to die.” Archer sipped on his drink.

“And what about his sister? If she was foolish enough to throw herself in front of bullets, are you not worried about her character? About her influence on Iris?” Juliet chewed on her lip, tugging on a strand of her long black hair, her amber eyes full of worry.

“She seems more determined than foolish.” He massaged his jaw thoughtfully, thinking of the way Lydia’s eyes had blazed in the moonlight. “She wanted to keep her brother safe, no matter what. I can understand something of that.”

He felt a tug in his chest and swallowed hard, pushing away the memories that threatened to surface. He forced himself to continue, his eyes drifting to the floor above him. “She agreed to the proposal to clear Lord Nittinghill’s debt. Her dowry for his freedom. A noble sacrifice.”

“You sound as though you admire her.” Juliet canted her head towards Archer.

“I do.” Archer shrugged, and the scent of lavender filled his mind as he remembered the way she had refused to back down from him, her eyes full of anger and desperation in equal measure.

He ran the pad of his thumb across his fingers absently. “I trust I can count on the two of you to make her feel welcome and to show her how I expect things to be done around here?”

“Of course.” Juliet gave Cora a look.

“Good.” Archer took another sip of his drink. “I will speak to Iris in the morning; I do not want the addition to upset her.”

“Iris will be delighted. You know she has wanted you to get married for ages.” Juliet laughed. “She will be singing little songs about you finally being in love.”

“I’m guessing you will not want to tell her the truth?” Cora arched an eyebrow at him.

“No. Let her have her dreams.” Archer made a dismissive gesture, picturing the wide amber eyes of his niece with her sunny blonde curls. “She is only a child after all.”

“And who knows, maybe her dream will become a reality?” Juliet teased.

Cora laughed. “This Lady Lydia may just win that heart you are always pretending you do not have.”

“No.” Archer stood and gave his sisters a firm look. “This will be a marriage in name alone. I do not want either of you trying to turn this into something it is not.”

I know what weakness love brings.

Juliet nodded, and Cora looked as though she would argue, but Archer narrowed his eyes at her. They were the same height, and Cora had her hair cut short, boyishly short.

“Does she know that?” Cora asked after a long moment.

“I will make that clear when I see her.” Archer waved his hand. “I have no wish to give her false hope.”

The memory of Lydia rose within him—the look of anger when she’d agreed to marry him. It was better that way. It would keep her away from him. And in the morning, he would flesh out the details with her.

Control. That is the key. Rules. That would keep everything as it should be.

“The one thing I wanted, and apparently, it is impossible. Curse him. Curse him and curse all men.” Lydia’s muffled voice was followed by the sound of several things hitting a wall.

“Perhaps you should come back another time, Your Grace. Her Ladyship is… She is not in the mood for entertaining.” The Butler wrung his hands as he looked up at Archer.

They were standing in the hallway of Nittinghill manor, waiting for the butler to announce his presence. It had been two days since the night he had proposed.

Before the butler could do anything, the door flung open, and the smell of lavender drifted across Archer as he looked down into the face of his fiancée.

“What are you doing here?” Lydia’s hazel eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms across her chest, her dark hair falling in waves around her shoulder.

Her cheek bones were sharp, her mouth curved downwards, and her brow furrowed. There was a harshness about her that only added to her beauty.

“A pleasure to see you too, Lady Lydia.” He inclined his head towards her as he swept into the room, noting the books scattered on the floor and the painting that was hanging at an angle. “A rather interesting choice of décor.”

“I was frustrated.” Lydia sighed and sat on the sofa opposite him. “And I did not expect company.”

“And am I to take it that men are the cause of this frustration? Or is it one man in particular?” He canted his head towards her, feeling the corner of his mouth threatening to quirk upwards. “A rather unfortunate sign if I have already gotten so under your skin.”

Her cheeks reddened, but she rolled her eyes. “You are not the source of my frustration.”

Archer bit back the desire to press her further. If she did not want to tell him, so be it. It would make it easier to keep his distance, and the fact that he wanted to know unsettled him.

“I trust this is a convenient time to discuss our wedding.” It was a statement not a question.

“Would it matter if I said it was not?” Lydia tilted her chin up at him, her hazel eyes flashing with defiance and a touch of nerves.

“Yes.”

“Do not lie.”

“Do not call me a liar.” He leaned forwards, his voice cracking through the space between them like a whip. “You were the one who chose to accept my proposal. I am simply here to make sure you understand the terms of our agreement. I would hate for us to start off on the wrong foot.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you not think it a little late for that? You proposed to me at a duel.”

“An unusual circumstance perhaps but hardly insurmountable.” Archer leaned back in his chair, watching as she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I would far rather we start our lives together on amicable terms; it feels rather too tiring to be wed to someone I am constantly at war with.”

“If you are trying to charm me into your bed, I will tell you now that it will not work. I am not that sort of woman.” Her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, and she looked away from him.

He canted his head towards her. “And what makes you think I am doing that?”

“I have heard about your… exploits, Duke, and I have no wish to become one of them. Or are you going to deny that you are a rake? No doubt, our marriage will be full of such affairs.”

“You sound jealous, Lady Lydia.”

She scoffed though it was undermined by the flush of her skin. “Hardly. But if you are going to embarrass me with such infidelity, I would rather not add to it by falling for your false charms as well.”

“I have no wish to embarrass you, nor do I wish to tarnish my family name with scandalous tales of infidelity.” Archer’s voice hardened, and he clenched his fist before forcing his fingers to relax and making a dismissive gesture.

“To be a bachelor and a rake is one thing, but a married rake… That will not do.”

“And why should I believe you?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Because it is the truth.” Archer met her hazel gaze with his amber eyes and felt a jolt rush through his body. “I would not wish such a fate on my own sisters, so it would be the height of hypocrisy for me to inflict it on you.”

“You have sisters?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“It seems you do not know everything about me.” Archer gave her an amused smile. “But yes, I have two younger sisters. Cora and Juliet. Cora is already out though I doubt your paths will have crossed. Juliet will be out next year.”

“You having sisters does not mean I should trust you.”

“If any man treated my sisters the way you are suggesting I might treat you after we are married, I would ruin everything he held dear and ensure that his legacy was nothing but scandal and ashes.” Archer felt anger rise within him, his eyes flashing with fury at the thought of a man treating Cora or Juliet like that.

The strength of his fury clearly unnerved Lydia, who shuddered as she met his gaze.

He took a steadying breath, forcing himself back to nonchalance with an effort.

“Besides if I marry a woman and have an affair right under her nose, what kind of example does that set for Cora and Juliet? They would think such behavior acceptable, and no one should accept infidelity.”

An unreadable look crossed Lydia’s face, but it was gone too quickly for Archer to understand.

“Fine. Let us say I believe you; that still does not mean I am going to fall for your charms.”

“Flattered as I am that you find me charming, and even though you are rather fetching, I have no wish to seduce you.” Archer’s lips quirked upwards as the color on Lydia’s face deepened. “In truth, I had very little wish for a wife.”

“Then why on Earth did you ask me to marry you?” she exclaimed.

“Why did you agree?” he shot back.