Page 5 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

The triplets turn to me, gasps heavy on their lips as they sport identical smiles of glee on their faces. Norhaven, in opposition, merely glowers in what I can only assume is jealousy. Not that it’s warranted here. It’s not as if the good duke has made any sort of overture to me. There is no understanding between us.

“Why do you ask?” Penelope inquires as she slides closer, all thoughts of her brother seemingly out of her mind. “Has he come calling?”

“I have seen him around,” I hedge, lying through my teeth. “I’ve heard his name mentioned and realize I know nothing of the man.”

“Henhaven,” Norhaven muses aloud. “Henhaven. I can only assume he sits with us in the House of Lords, but I don’t recall that name ever being recognized to speak. Unmemorable. Do you have an interest in him?” he asks, his gaze peering into mine as if he can see into my very soul.

“As I said,” I repeat, doing my best to keep my voice from cracking. “I merely wished to know what sort of man he was. For me not to have even heard of him in passing before now makes me wonder.”

Norhaven waves my words away. “There are far too many Alphas sitting in parliament. It makes sense that you would not know all of them. I would put him out of your thoughts and turn your attentions elsewhere.”

“Yes,” Penelope claps. “You were just about to tell us about the scandals of The Season.”

Norhaven groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Anywhere else but there. Honestly, there must be more to talk about than idle gossip.”

With a mischievous smirk, I tilt my head to the side. “Unseasonable cold weather we’re having.”

Before he can say anything else, the butler strides in. “His Grace the Duke of Whiteport has arrived with his duchess. Dinner is now ready.”

With a curt nod, Norhaven moves out from the room, leaving just the triplets and me. Penelope links her arm through mine as Georgiana takes the other. Poor Sophia steps in behind but doesn’t seem hurt by her sisters’ actions. Her lips curl into a soft smile as we make an odd procession toward the dining room.

As we find our places, I can’t help but notice how they seat me next to Norhaven. It’s a cruel torture to be so close to him, smelling that intoxicating mix of leather and tobacco. How I long to nuzzle into him, to breathe him deeply into me. I feel as if everything would be fine if I could do that.

Under the table, I slide my foot against his, desperately needing that contact. He wrenches it away and turns to glare at me, but underneath is that ghost of a smile he always gets before a punishment. Only, here, in front of his family, he cannot indulge.

I turn my attention back to my food as conversation flies around me. There’s so much love here, so much warmth. It’s a far cry from the near silent dinners I endure at home. Where’s the laughter there? Where’s the conversation?

The very idea of trudging back home eats at me, but I have no choice. And that’s when it hits me. Fully hits me. I’ll probably never have this type of interaction again. Once I marry Henhaven, there will be no need to come here to see my friends. I’ll be married, alone, and with a man I know nothing about.

Tears burn in my eyes as my vision blurs. Three banns. That’s all I have. Three measly banns.

“Miss Campbell,” Anne, the Duchess of Whiteport, asks. “Are you quite well?”

At that, all eyes, of course, turn to me. “They’re tears of happiness,” I half lie. “All my favorite people under one roof. How I’ve missed this.”

The dowager duchess smiles, her face a warm beacon of love and light. “My sweet girl. We’ve missed this as well. I promise you, the girls have not stopped talking about it all the way from Oxby Manor.”

Lewis Barrington, Duke of Whiteport, tosses his napkin down and gives a false glare. “And here I thought they’d be consumed with meeting the new duchess. Alas, I now see where their hearts truly lie.”

A smattering of laughter ripples over the table. Even Norhaven obliges with a soft chuckle. Though my lips turn up into a small smile, underneath the veneer, my heart cracks, shatters. Will they still be this congenial with me after hearing the banns read from the church tomorrow?

Even now, as foolish as it is, I still wonder if this is some sort of nightmare. Will I soon wake up and find myself in Norhaven’s arms, sated after a long night of punishment and pleasure? Or will I face the cold light of dawn alone, knowing I’ll be bound to another before The Season’s end?

Chapter 3

Charles

Sunday — First Banns

I stand there in my bedroom, my mind churning as the valet dresses me for services. Something was off about Miss Campbell last night. It’s not like her to be so quiet and sullen. I dare say, she’s usually one of the leaders in whatever rebellious mischief should befall. Could be because she’s been so well behaved, or rather no scandal has befallen the other wives, that I have not seen the need to punish her.

She is most certainly the type of woman who would thrive with a daily dose of pain and mistreatment. Thankfully, my breeches are already on me to help conceal the nature of my affliction to that thought. The fact that she still torments me so…

I suppose now that Lewis has his common bride, I am free to pursue Miss Campbell. It’s high time I make an honest duchess of her. That, and my family will certainly be fit to be tied. I can hear my sisters’ excitement even now as they shriek out their joy of gaining another to share in this cadre of the weaker sex.

A ghost of a smile crosses my lips as the valet finishes with my dress for today. I glance at the mirror and nod. Resplendent, perfect for proposing a marriage.

My soul fairly sings as I come down the stairs. Now that I am unshackled by the hypocritical burden my brother unwittingly placed upon me lo these many years, it’s as if each step is on a cloud. Let him revel in his common-born wife. Let him enjoy the fruits of their matrimony. Miss Campbell, at least, is from some pedigree of lineage and not simply married into it.