“You think I don’t know about you?” he said.
She blinked. “What… what does that mean?”
“Lady Thalia Harrington, the troubled daughter, she who no man would dare waste his time on because every man within one hundred miles of here knows where that will lead.”
“I…” She leaned back. “That is not –”
“You have a reputation,” he continued, speaking plainly. “One that has grown worse these last few days. You might wonderwhyI have not worked to stop the rumors, or to try and lessen them?” He shrugged. “I knew if I did nothing, they would grow, they would spread, and everyone would know who was to blame…” He looked right at her so she would not miss his meaning.
“You wished to ruin my sister’s reputation?” Damien gasped.
“Can one ruin what is already broken?”
Damien’s expression hardened. “How dare you? Amberhall, my sister might have acted out of turn, and I apologize for it. But what you have done –”
“Is what I have had to do.” He turned on her brother, and for the first time, he let the cool mask of dispassion drop so that a growl touched at his voice. It was soft, but Thalia felt it in her chest, and even her brother started with surprise. “You know it as well as I do, Wexford, the importance of marriage. We do it not because we wish it, but because we have no choice.”
“You always have a choice,” her brother said. “Marriage is… it is necessary, of course, but it is not demanded of us. Not unless we choose it.”
The Duke scoffed. “Perhaps you do. Perhaps you are the lucky one, Wexford. Some of us…” The side of his lip twitched. “Some of us are not so lucky.”
“What does that mean?” her brother asked.
“It means…” The Duke considered the question, his brow furrowed, his stare distant. And then, quite suddenly, he came into himself, nodded once, and turned to face Thalia. “I am required to marry so that I might fulfill a clause in my father’s will, one that as of the moment, is affecting my inheritance. This clause demands that I marry and produce an heir, a duty with which Lady Rosaline would have happily acquiesced, I am sure. As that is no longer possible, I am required to search out other means to fulfil this obligation.”
Thalia was staring at him with bewilderment. The way he spoke about not just marriage, but having a child. It was so precise, so emotionless, so… wrong. It made her skin crawl and her stomach turn.
“You will provide me an heir,” he continued. “But I wish for it to be known that this is all I require of you. Our marriage will be one of convenience. I do not expect you to fall in love with me. I do not expect you to try and grow close to me. I want what you owe me and no more.”
Thalia was still staring at him, and she took a step back.
It was even worse than she thought. Where most men of her class married for business purposes, often love and romancewas found in these marriages because… well… they were only human, and such things were common. Even expected.
But the Duke was possessed of a different nature entirely. In his mind, this marriage was only business, and that this business ended with him needing to have a child seemed irrelevant. Hardly a concern, for how direct he was.
It is even worse than my parents’ marriage. Somehow more devoid of emotion. Somehow even lonelier than what my mother was put through…
“No,” Thalia said with a shake of her head, her voice a whisper. “I will not do it.”
“Lucky it is not up to you.”
“Damien!” Thalia found her brother halfway down the table. “Tell him. Tell him I will not marry him.” She looked at her brother expectantly, but the look in his eyes as he moved from her to the Duke was enough to strike fear in her. “No! No, I will not…” She took a step back. “You cannot make me.”
“Thalia…” Damien soothed her. “You brought this on yourself.”
“I did not.”
“Think of this from my point of view,” he pressed on her. “From your family’s. Think of Laurent! And Rosaline. This will take the attention from them…”
“I… I…” Her chin was trembling, the walls were closing, and Thalia could see her world tumbling around her.
“If I might.” The Duke spoke up. Or rather, he simply spoke, and the tenor of his voice demanded attention. “Lord Wexford, if I might have a moment alone with your sister?”
“What?” her brother blinked.
“What?” Thalia exclaimed.
“A moment to speak with her alone,” he repeated, not wasting time by looking at Thalia. “Perhaps I can…” A smirk touched his lips again, but he smothered it. “Perhaps I can convince her.”
