Page 55 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

Once he’s satisfied, he turns back to Teresa and regales her with tales of the home I’ll be living in. I do my absolute best to find interest in it, but my heart simply isn’t there. It’s not exciting. It’s not thrilling. It’s a home.

“Tell me then, Henhaven, if you would be so kind. What manner of discipline do you employ with all those sisters?”

He turns to me, his mouth parting a bit before looking back at her. “I must ask, what is this obsession with me showing cruelty to my siblings? Should I be beating them morning, noon, and night?”

“Oh, not at all,” she soothes as she continues to rub Thomas. “It’s just that I am an only child with a son of my own now. If he’s anything like his father, he will be headstrong. I was merely hoping that with you as a caretaker, you could give me some insight.”

The lie drips smoothly from her lips, and I cannot help but be in awe of her. If only I could be half as good. Maybe then Henhaven would believe that I care for him.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he sighs. “Such tasks were my father’s. Once he and Mother passed, I couldn’t find it in my heart to take up such a mantle. They are far more unruly than I’d like, but they’re happy. That’s all that matters to me right now.”

Teresa gives me a look that clearly shows her sympathy, but it’s no use. It just confirms what I’m already sure about. I sit high in my chair and listen as he describes the hall in great detail.

No wonder he gave me such a look when we went out riding. I must not have been paying attention at all. The whole place seems rather dreadful. Dark stone, dark wood, surrounded by a forest of trees. I fear I will not thrive there.

“But, of course, I do have the funds for you to make some adjustments,” he says, giving me a hopeful look. No doubt wondering if I’m paying attention this time.

I give him the sweetest smile I can muster. “I don’t wish to ruin your family’s legacy-”

“Ruin it. Please. I’m tired of my workers saying it’s Devil Hall.”

At that, I chuckle, and Henhaven and I share our first genuine smile together. It hurts. Oh, but it hurts. However, there is a part of me that wonders if I can, in fact, heal from Charles.

But even as I think it, that odd pang comes back. He’s never marked me. At least, he hasn’t in a way that’s caused a true bond. That doesn’t keep me from seeking him out, from wanting to be by his side, to hear both his growl and purr.

The footman steps in once more, breaking the growing tension. “The Duke of Norhaven is here to see Miss Campbell.”

Both Teresa and Henhaven look at me, watching what I’ll do. What can I do? To bring him in would be to disrespect the man I’m forced to marry.

“Please tell His Grace that I am not at home,” I say, rejecting him the same way he’s rejected me.

“Very good,” he says as he turns on his heel.

My insides clench as he walks away, footsteps echoing down the polished hall.

Henhaven sits beside me, close enough to touch, but doesn’t. “You are more than welcome to receive him. I hold no quarrel with your friends. Despite the sound trouncing I had yesterday,” he says with a small smile. “Please do not think that marrying me will curtail your acquaintances.”

If only he weren’t so kind. If only he were the arse Norhaven thought he was. If only…

“You flatter me,” I say, my voice somehow strong despite the agony threading through me. “The truth is, I’m feeling a touch unwell and was about to retire to my bedchamber.”

“Nothing severe, I hope.” He says it with such urgency, such tenderness. It’s enough to make my stomach churn.

“Just a megrim. I get those now and then. It’s probably just my nerves. It’s not every day a girl gets to plan a wedding.”

“Then I shall leave you to your rest. Miss Campbell. Your Grace.”

As he walks out of the room, I collapse upon the couch, plopping my head in my hands. Though not truly ill, it’s not a complete lie. I do, indeed, feel quite wretched. Thankfully, Teresa says nothing.

With a soft smile, she holds out Thomas and lets me take him in my arms. Clutching him close to my chest, I rest my cheek on his soft head and breathe him in. So small. So tiny. So soothing.

As I finally drag myself to my bedroom, I slide in between the sheets, sigh heavy on my lips. My eyes feel heavy, as does my head. It would be good to get a proper night’s rest.

On that thought, I hop back out of the bed and circle the room, pressing every board I can reach. When no secret passage appears, I give the room a firm nod and go back to the bed. Maybe a night without Charles will do me some good.

More tears gather in my eyes as I turn and bury my face in the pillow. How did all of it go so wrong? Why am I made to suffer so? I don’t have very much hope, but what little I still possess drives a prayer from my lips.

“Please,” I whisper to whoever might be able to hear me. “Please let him find something. Let some secret get out that will allow us to be wed. Please.”