Page 2 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

“Cynthia,” Mother nearly shouts.

“Pay her no mind,” my father cuts in, ever the diplomat. “I’m sure the news has overwrought her nerves. You know. Females.”

Henhaven has the audacity to smile and shake his head as if Father has told some grand lark. “Don’t I know it,” he replies, laughter soft on his lips. “I am well acquainted with females and their moods.” Both parents look at each other and then back at him, their eyes round with shock. “Sisters,” he amends quickly. “One learns many things when living with sisters.”

They both let out a sigh and settle back into their chairs.

My mother sits back up and smiles, but of course it’s a false tilting of her lips. “We’ve only had the one. I’m afraid Cynthia has no other siblings. She is quite the spoiled one, having both of our attentions whenever she demands it. I apologize in advance for any extra tutelage you might have to undertake.”

My head throbs as I soak in my mother’s words. Spoiled? I would attribute so many other descriptors to my name, but spoiled? For a moment, I nearly forget myself and laugh, but find my throat clogged with far more unpleasant emotions.

Henhaven rises and nods, casting me another soft smile. “I must be off,” he says as the rest of us stand with him. “I so look forward to getting to know you, Miss Campbell. I would like to call upon you early next week to continue our conversations. That is, if I don’t see you at Hyde Park first.”

“Sounds delightful,” I lie as I give him a small curtsy.

As he leaves, I sit back down into the chair, shaking as the enormity crashes down on me. Sunday. Banns. Engaged. What can I do? What can I say? How in the world can I get out of this? There has to be something I can do.

“We did not raise you to be so rude and ill-tempered,” my mother shouts as she hovers over me, finger jutted into my face. “What if you had driven him away?”

“The engagement is set,” I grind out between gritted teeth. “Wouldn’t he suffer scandal if he broke it off now?”

She plants her hands on her hips. “The banns have not been read yet, girl. No one else knows besides the four of us. If he were to break it because of your lack of manners, you would be without a husband.” She turns to level a glare at my father. “It’s your fault. You’ve spoiled her something wretched.”

At that, I leap up, standing toe-to-toe with my mother. “I have never wanted for anything, but I would not call my actions spoiled. No warning? Not even a hint at what my future is to become? Viscountess Henhaven without so much as a word?”

My father sighs and inches over to me, his face looking extremely old in that moment. “We did what we thought was right. You are nearing the end of your second season. No husband? No prospects? You would be a spinster.”

Again, I turn to my mother. “And so you both choose for me?”

“He’s a respectable man,” she cajoles. “No scandal to his name. In need of a wife. You should be grateful. He wanted a special license to sweep you away within a matter of days. Your father told him this marriage will only go forward if he gives you the full time. All three banns. It will give you a chance to know each other. He is rather handsome, though. You cannot deny that.”

Closing my eyes, I rub my brow. He’s an Alpha. All Alphas tend to have a certain look about them. Though in my heart, my very soul, I cannot find him even half as pleasing to the eyes than Norhaven.

“Looks do not mean much when there is strife between a man and woman.”

“What strife?” she asks. “Any friction between the two of you is because of your reticence. Give him a chance. He will make a fine husband for you.”

Words lie stuttered on my lips with no way to speak them. Too many voices cry out in my head for me to be able to lay them down in a neat row in presentation to my mother. “You don’t know that. Suppose he beats me? Suppose he is cruel and merely hides it from others?”

Heat creeps up my face as I recall the many times Norhaven took me in hand. But then, I don’t truly regard his actions as neither beating nor cruel. Not when he followed them up with such exquisite pleasure that it put all other sensations in the past.

“Enough with the theatrics,” my father booms. “The matter is done. Unless he is found to be unworthy in a way that counts to the Ton, you will be married after three weeks. There will be no more discussion in the matter.”

Tears prick my eyes as our footman strides into the room, ending the conversation. He slides a small note off the tray and hands it to me, bowing before he steps back out.

“Secret notes,” my mother sneers. “Is that why you are so reluctant to take a husband?”

I turn the note to her, showing the seal. “It is from the Barringtons. The triplets, no doubt.” My fingers shake as I open the letter and study it under the scrutiny of my mother. Please. Please let it be from my friends and nothing scandalous.

My dearest Cynthia,

We are now fully settled in London and have been denied the pleasure of your company. Truly, things are rather dull here with just our mother and Charles to keep us company. We long to have you visit us so that we may talk again. Besides, The Season is not all that fun without you. We shall send the carriage for you around seven so that you may dine with us. Our hearts nearly leap for joy at being able to see your face once more. I swear we shall perish if you tell us no.

Ever yours in friendship,

Penelope

P.S. Sophia and Georgiana send their regards as well. They hover about my ears, chittering and chattering even as I write this, insisting you know that they long to see you. I, for one, thought that to be understood. Prepare to be accosted the moment you enter the doors.