“Is perfectly suited,” he said with such casualness he might have been explaining the finer points of his favorite liquor. “She is of age, she is available, the daughter of a duke no-less. And considering what she did, it will be no small thing to convince the ton that her reasons were born of a desire to marry me in place of her friend.” He raised an eyebrow—a movement as spontaneous and natural as the turn of a clockwork gear, Thalia decided. “It will quell gossip and ensure a smooth reception.”
“That is…” Damien shook his head, still seeming bewildered. Thalia blinked at the unusual expression; even when he was caught by surprise, he tried his best to not look so. The fact that he could hardly control his shock in this instance was telling. “That is very generous of you.” He licked his lips. “And something we will consider –”
“No!” Thalia cried suddenly, the shock of the moment passing her finally. “We will not consider it.”
Damien’s eyes widened and then narrowed on her.
The Duke, however, turned slightly to find her glaring at him. He tilted his head, pressed his lips together, and looked upon her with the curiosity one might have toward a stray dog that wandered into their home uninvited.
“Did you hear me?” Thalia repeated. “I will not marry you.”
“Thalia,” her brother said sharply. “Hold your tongue.”
“How can I possibly?” Thalia found herself growing angry, but not for the reason her brother expected. “Do you want to know why I stopped Rosaline from marrying you?” she spat at the Duke.
He said nothing, simply watching her.
“Because you do not deserve her, is why,” she continued hotly. “I knew that you were only marrying her because of her name, thatyou felt nothing for her. Worse, that you did not care how she felt about you!” She raised both her eyebrows. “She hated you, in case you were wondering.”
“Thalia!” her brother snarled.
“And now I see that she was right to,” Thalia continued, purposefully ignoring her brother. She kept her stare on the Duke; it was cold and dispassionate, something he would understand. “That you would… so callously move on from her as if she is as worthless as an old pair of boots! That you would think that I would then fall over myself to take her place!” She curled her lips at him. “I was right about you. Just as I was right to save my friend.”
Thalia did not know why she was surprised by the Duke’s indifference. As she said, that was the very reason she had saved Rosaline in the first place.
It just made her so angry. How these men of power used women like her as if it were all a game. They did not care. They did not feel. They were emotionless bodies of meat and bone, the only concern on their mind being how they might use others so that they could win the great game.
And I will not be used!
“I am so sorry.” As Damien spoke, he looked right at Thalia, and she could not remember a time that she had seen him so angry. “My sister is tired, and she is not herself.”
“Is that what you think?” the Duke asked Thalia, ignoring her brother entirely.
“Am I wrong?” she shot back.
He shrugged. “I require a bride. Ultimately, her identity is irrelevant.”
“How dare –”
“As are your feelings on the matter,” he spoke over her. No need to raise his voice, because it carried such weight with it anyway. “We would not be in this mess, were it not for you. And as is the way in this world, when one makes a mistake, they are expected to fix it.” He looked right at her, not to brag, not to intimidate, but to let her know that he was speaking seriously. “And this is a mistake that requires much repair.”
What frustrated Thalia more than anything else wasn’t just what the Duke was proposing, but how he was proposing it.
This has nothing to do with me at all. It is all about him. His needs. His wants. How he can save himself. The rest of us be dammed!
He was just so cool about it. So removed and casual that it was impossible to tell how he really felt. Tall and imposing. Powerful and dominant. Even with her brother there, the Duke appeared in a world of his own. A world that he ruled.
Thalia attempted to glare at him, as if that might make him change his mind. But she faltered when their eyes met, because the fire that she spewed waned against the ice-coldness he held her in. Not hate. Not evil. Simply… nothing.
“Perhaps we might talk about this elsewhere.” Damien walked around the table, approaching the Duke. “Thalia, if you will leave us.”
“I will not.”
“Thalia, it is not a request.”
“If you think what I did before was a mistake, you have not seen anything yet,” she said to the Duke. “You think people were gossiping before now? Wait until after they hear that you tried to marry me.”
A crease appeared momentarily around those stone-gray eyes. Had she seen a smirk cross the Duke’s lips? Did her protest amuse him? But he smothered it quickly and was back to exercising self-control.
