Page 33 of The Duke’s Sworn Spinster (A Duel and a Wedding #1)

Winston blinked. “Is that such a great sin?” he asked after a moment.

This time, the woman did look up. Through the lattice, Winston could not make out her face, but it was thrilling nonetheless to see the hint of it through the lattice.

“It is a sin to defy one’s parents,” the woman—the girl, really because she could not be more than one-and-twenty—said. “Is it… is it not?”

“Yes,” Winston said quickly, even though he was the last person on earth to actually agree with such a statement. “Well, usually. I have also known many fathers who were in desperate need of defying.”

The girl hesitated. When she spoke again, she sounded slightly amused. “You are new to this, aren’t you?” she asked.

Winston smiled. “You have no idea.”

There was a pause, during which he thought he heard her stifle a laugh. A warm, pleasant feeling spread through his gut at the thought of making her laugh. Winston very rarely made anyone laugh.

“So, tell me,” he prompted after a moment, “how exactly do you plan to defy your father? It is hard to imagine an innocent child like you could be so sinful in her resistance.”

“I am not a child,” she said, a little defiantly. “I am twenty years old, and I… I am to be wed.”

“Ahh.” Winston nodded. A fate worse than death for most women. “And you are not looking forward to it?”

“No,” the girl—the lady—said, her voice suddenly small. “I do not.” She sighed, and he could hear the frustration in the sound. “The gentleman they wish me to marry—I have known him my whole life, and I despise him.”

“Harsh words from a lady,” Winston noted with interest.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, as if afraid to admit to such a dark thought.

“That is another sin I have to confess. But he has tormented me since we were children. When we were young, we got on at first, but then he started telling me to do things in order to get me into trouble. I was just a girl, and I was always eager to please, so I did these things—only to realize, too late, that he was trying to hurt me.”

“What kinds of things?” Winston asked with some alarm.

“Oh, things like climbing a tree I shouldn’t, which made me come back with cuts on my arms and leaves in my hair which would drive my mother furious. Or poking a hornet’s nest. That was very bad. I was stung all over.”

Winston felt the anger begin to rise in his chest. “What else?” he asked sharply.

“Well, when I was twelve, and he was fifteen, he…” she hesitated, and he felt all his ire sharpen. What did this beast do? “He tried to kiss me,” she finished timidly. He heard her move restlessly, and he gritted his teeth to keep from snarling that the man deserved to be shot at close range.

“I refused him, of course,” she said quickly.

“I knew it was wrong. But ever since, he swore to me we would marry someday and that if I tried to defy him, he would drag my name through the mud. And whenever we were together, he would find small ways to hurt me, like pinching my leg under the table if we were seated next to each other at dinner, or yanking a loose bit of hair.”

Winston almost asked if she had told her parents of this gentleman’s abuse, but he stopped himself. He knew enough about parents and children in the ton to know that parents did not listen to daughters who spoke up about the men who hurt them. That’s why I do what I do. Because no one else listens.

“It is an abomination for this man to treat you thus,” he said instead, his voice low and deadly. His gut was twisting with anger and a deep, protective instinct. He needed to know the name of this gentleman now.

Across from him, the lady shifted again. “You are a very unusual priest,” she said, and he heard the smile in her voice. “Usually, abominations are saved for the cardinal sins.”

“I believe this is a cardinal sin,” he growled. “He is the one who ought to be confessing to me, not you. You have done nothing wrong.”

“But I have…” The uncertainty had returned to her voice. “My parents have done so much for me, and for me to even be considering defying them and refusing to marry Samuel… I am so ashamed.”

Samuel. So, he had a first name. He filed this away for later. “You need not be ashamed,” he said. “Perhaps a little defiance is exactly what this situation calls for.”

“I do not think…” she trailed off.

“What?” he prompted.

“I do not think I am brave enough,” she said in a small voice. “How can I tell my parents no? What power do I have to resist them? And I do not want to disappoint them.”

She sounded so scared and sad that Winston’s heart actually ached. He frowned. He would need to put a stop to that. Feeling protective was one thing, but aching with the need to save this young lady was quite another.

“And there is the fact that my father might not allow me to refuse the match…” she continued after a moment. “I do not know the details, but I overheard some conversations between my father and his. It seems they may be in on some financial deals together…”

She stopped speaking for several moments, and Winston waited. She would speak when she was ready, he knew.

“I got the impression that the marriage would seal the deal between them,” she finished at last. “Or that my father had to marry me to the Marquess’ son as a show of good faith… I am not sure. I only overheard a little.”

She hung her head. “I feel so trapped. And it is leading me into sinful, disrespectful thoughts of dishonoring my father.”

Winston shook his head. He was angry now and ready to rush to give out more advice that was decidedly unpriestly, but before he could say anything else, she stood up.

“I am sorry,” she murmured. And, before he’d had a chance to collect himself, she pulled back the curtain and exited the confessional booth.

He heard her footsteps patting quietly away across the nave and waited until the door to the church opened and closed before pulling aside his own curtain and stepping out of the confessional.

His heart was beating faster than usual. There was a strange, metallic taste in his mouth. Moving quickly, he crossed the nave as well and went to the door, opening it cautiously.

Outside, he saw a young woman being helped into a carriage by a footman. He waited until she was inside then opened the door and stepped outside, squinting at the carriage door.

The coat of arms on the door… It is familiar. Where have I seen it before?

The driver flicked the reins, and then the carriage lurched forward and disappeared around the corner. Winston watched it go, his mind whirring.

“Thornfield?”

Winston was wrenched out of his thoughts by the sound of his name, and he turned to see Leo hurrying along the street toward him.

“There you are!” Leo said, rushing up the steps of the church. “I was so worried. I lost them on the roofs, but then I came back to find you.”

“Do not worry, they did not find me,” Winston said, still staring after the carriage.

Leo frowned and put his hand on Winston’s arm, peering closely at him. “You look strange,” he said. “What happened?”

“What happened,” Winston said, “is that I am getting married.”