“It may come as a surprise to you, Father, but marriage is not a goal everyone aspires to.”
Oswald’s face reddened, his back straightened as he looked down at Arabella’s bright blue eyes, the same color as his. She moved to sit beside her sister, taking her hand in hers
“And I don’t want you to even mention sending Bridget away.”
“I was merely suggesting that perhaps Bridget would be happier away from London.”
“If Bridget leaves, I will too. And I will end my blissfulspinsterhooddays in Wales.”
Her father’s chin dropped at his daughter’s statement, and he looked at her with a menacing look.
“You will do nothing,” Oswald cut in, sharp and final. “You will attend your engagements, you will smile, and you will not interfere in matters you clearly do not understand.”
“Father-”
“I will have you learn your place, Arabella,” Oswald said with finality. “I demand respect when you are talking to me.”
“We demand respect too,” Arabella dared.
Arabella was usually kind, but that was till you tried to step on her toes.
“Arabella, I would be very careful if I were you or else-” Oswald started.
Oswalt was ready to escalate the fight. It was not common for Arabella to talk back to him that way, and he was not ready to let it slide. But at that moment, the butler came in with a silver tray that had a calling card.
“You have a visitor, Sir.”
Oswald took the calling card and read the name.
“Duke of Albury,” He almost whispered as if the name would summon some kind of demon in their household.
“The Duke of Albury?” Arabella asked, trying to remember if he had met that Duke in any of the balls or events that she had frequently attended.
“Isn’t that…?” It was Bridget who spoke up. “Isn’t he the one they call the Cruel Duke?”
Arabella‘s eyes widened. There was a reason that the name said nothing to her. The Duke of Albury was rarely, if at all, seen at balls, or functions. He attended very few, and the reason mostly stood with how Bridget had called him.
He was coined the Cruel Duke, and the rumors regarding his person started from alarming and ended up absolutely terrifying. As a result, despite his massive fortune and great political influence, the Duke did not enjoy the open arms that the ton would offer to a man of his station. Invitations were scarce, and most of them were declined.
Alexandra herself had warned Arabella when she once joked that she would marry practically anyone who wasn’t boring. Someone in her circle had offered the Cruel Duke as an option since the name suggested anything but dull. But Alexandra warned every young lady to stay away from the Duke of Albury.
“Why would he be here?” Her father wondered. “I knew his father, of course, but not the son.”
“Can’t you just..?” Bridget tried. “Turn him away?”
“Apart from the fact that I am curious, he’s really not the right person to make rivals of. Tell the kitchen to prepare tea with biscuits,” Oswald said to the butler, “and allow the man in.”
Arabella held Bridget’s hand tighter as she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. Unhurried, measured, heavy footsteps. And then the Duke appeared at the threshold. The moment he stepped into the drawing room, Arabella‘s firstthought was that the room was not big enough. She had heard that the Albury estate was a massive building, and now she knew why. It was not for vanity; it was practical. The man had to fit somewhere.
The Duke of Albury was by far the biggest man she had ever laid eyes upon. He was not only tall but also broad, his shoulders barely fitting through the door. His face was as if carved into granite, with high cheekbones that could cut through glass, a straight aristocratic nose, and a pair of luscious lips that remained plum even if they were firmly pressed together.
What made Arabella instantly feel as if stalked by a predator was his deep green eyes. They were slightly bigger for his strong face, something that would perhaps soften it if it weren’t for the harsh look that they delivered.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” Oswald practiced his good manners despite the obvious shock he too was in.
The Duke said nothing for a few seconds while his look went over the room as if he was expecting some kind of danger to spring out from the pianoforte at the corner.
“I will not take up much of your time, Lord Lambourne. I am here on a contractual matter.”
