“How can you be so sure, Iris?” Camelia’s voice trembled slightly.
Iris took her hand, her grip firm yet tender. “Camelia, although I’m the eldest, you’ve always been the one to care for us, far more than I ever did.”
The small gesture of affection sent warmth through Camelia, loosening the knot in her chest.
“And we’ve all seen how His Grace looks at you,” Margaret added, a sly smile creeping back onto her lips.
Camelia’s curiosity betrayed her. “How does he look at me?”
Margaret leaned closer with a wicked smirk. “Like you’re a succulent morsel of venison and he’s ravenous to devour every inch of you.”
Iris and Camelia exchanged a look, their eyes widening at Margaret’s choice of words, before they all erupted in laughter, the sound filling the room like a cascade of bells.
“Margaret, truly!” Camelia gasped, clutching her sides as she struggled to catch her breath. “Where do you learn such scandalous phrases?”
A sultry ache bloomed within her when she remembered how the Duke’s piercing dark blue eyes devoured her form with languid intensity, tracing the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, as if his gaze alone could peel away her gown and leave her bare, quivering under his command.
“Margaret, you’re making her blush so much she’ll match the roses in her bouquet. Camelia, ignore her and focus on the day ahead.” Iris rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips.
Camelia laughed despite herself. “Margaret’s jokes are outrageous, but they do lighten the mood.”
Still, the idea of intimacy with the Duke terrified and excited her in equal measure.
“Thank you! But seriously, Camelia,” Margaret continued, undeterred, as she clasped a pearl necklace around her sister’s neck. “The Duke’s reputation precedes him. He is handsome, powerful, and as we have already witnessed… he is a bit dangerous. Do you think he’ll whisper sweet nothings or command you like one of his servants?”
“Command me? No. He would much rather discipline me,” Camelia muttered under her breath.
“What do you mean by that?” Margaret’s eyes were wide with curiosity.
Camelia silently cursed herself for speaking her thoughts out loud.
But the thought of the Duke disciplining her sent a rush of fear and excitement through her. Her spine tingled, and she gulped loudly before answering Margaret.
“What did I mean by what, Margaret?”
“The Dukediscipliningyou.”
Iris leaned in, her eyebrow arched, the same curious look etched into her features.
“I honestly have no idea,” Camelia eventually said and swatted at her sister’s hand playfully.
“Did he speak of disciplining you?” Iris asked with no hint of humor, crossing her arms over her chest disapprovingly.
“He did,” Camelia said softly.
Her sisters exchanged looks.
“What do you suppose that means?” Iris frowned.
“Is it a threat? Because if he dared to threaten you—” Margaret began.
“I promise you both that, whether the Duke threatened me or not, he will never break me,” Camelia cut in. “And we need this union.”
Her sisters eyed her with suspicion and sadness.
“Camelia, you do not have to do this for my sake?—”
“Margaret, I will always protect you and our family, even if it means marrying a sullen-faced duke.”
