Page 9 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

Once I can take her as my bride, it will be safe to be in the same room again. In my fury and need, I bite into the meat, chewing with a ferocity that mirrors the agitation deep within my soul. Everything is falling apart. Everything collapses at my feet.

“Forgive me, Miss Campbell,” the footman calls out as he brings a letter to her side. “This arrived for you. The messenger said it was urgent.”

Henhaven leans over, his lips thinning into a frown. “I hope everything is well. What could possibly be the matter that you have an urgent missive?”

My brow furrows as I study Henhaven’s posture. It’s ramrod, uneasy. Even for someone like me who craves his submissives on their knees under my abject control, this seems a bit much. A woman is well entitled to her privacy.

“I’m sure it’s just some female business,” I say, fixing my tone so that it’s a bit more flat and bored. “Everything they do and say is tinged with a bit of urgency.”

“I’m rather curious myself,” her mother chimes in. “Do tell us, Cynthia.”

Her fingers shake as she opens the letter under all of this scrutiny. Poor thing isn’t even afforded a modicum of privacy. It hurts my heart to see her so vulnerable.

“It’s from the triplets,” she sighs as she puts the letter in her lap. “Their mother,” she glances at me, “the Dowager Duchess of Whiteport requests that I stay with them while preparing for the marriage. My friends lament the idea of me being a married woman while they still reside at home waiting for their coming out. This is to be our last hurrah as single, well rather unwed, friends.”

Henhaven looks at her and rubs his jaw. He’s in no position to order her to stay at her family home. Not yet, anyway. Off to the side, her mother lets out an unholy squeal as she stands up and brushes her hands on her dress.

“And they do not think you’d like to spend this time with me? Bonding with a mother before your nuptials?”

“I’m sure they mean no harm, Mother,” she answers. “Besides, it’s not as if I cannot still do all the duties of a bride-to-be. I will, of course, see to the fittings and whatever else is needed.”

“Yes,” she seethes, “but you will not be under my roof, under my watchful care.”

I study her mother’s face, noting an odd pinch about her lips and in her forehead. She seems altogether quite ill at this proposal. But why? It’s not unheard of for ladies to spend their time with friends. And with my mother as host, there is not even a whiff of scandal. By all rights, I feel as if I should be incensed by this reaction.

“My mother is a proper woman,” I say, keeping my tone light and neutral, though I long to keep Miss Campbell as far away from me as possible. “Your daughter will not entertain scandal while there.”

Her face blanches, turning as white as fresh snow. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not mean to imply-”

“But you did.” Glancing down at my sleeve, I flick off an invisible speck of dirt. As much as I need this distance from Miss Campbell, I would like to see her happy and away from Henhaven while I employ my friends to dig up whatever dirt they can on him. “To refuse my mother would be to refuse a dowager duchess. A woman much higher in rank and esteem. You wouldn’t want idle tongues gossiping in the streets, would you? Not with your daughter marrying in so short a time.”

Miss Campbell slides her gaze over to me and tilts her head. But of course she can’t understand my motives, and I do not feel any inclination to educate her.

Kirden rises and puts his hand on his wife’s arm. “Harriet, your daughter deserves some happiness with her friends. She is, after all, to be beset with burdens fitting an elevated title. We should allow her this bit of fun.”

“But then who will see to her breakfast?” she whispers.

At this, I can’t help but frown. “Are you implying that we would let her starve?”

“No, no. Of course not,” she cries out. “Nothing of the sort. It’s just I… we… There’s a special way I prepare her warmed chocolate and breakfast that she rather enjoys. I do so hate to have her miss out.”

Odd and far odder. Shaking my head, I rise, preparing to leave. “I’m sure Cook is well enough up to the task. The times Miss Campbell has been in our home, she seems to rather like the way she prepares her meals and snacks.”

Henhaven rises and narrows his gaze. “So she’s been to your house before?”

This time, the smile that creeps across my lips is genuine. It’s just below wolfish, but enough that Henhaven might know he has a spot of competition for the lovely Miss Campbell’s affections.

“Enough that she is considered one of us. A daughter, a sister, a dearest friend. And she will always be welcomed, no matter the circumstances. Now then, I will be off. Shall I send word to my family that Miss Campbell will join us for the next few weeks?”

“Please do, Norhaven,” Kirden nods. “My daughter and we are delighted at the invitation. Once you depart, she will pack.”

“Excellent. Carriage will be here around seven, so she may join us for dinner.”

Nodding to the group in the parlor, I stride out, my heart pounding in my chest. This is not going to be easy. How am I going to keep my hands off of her while under their roof?

While deep in thought, I nearly miss the sound of Henhaven’s shoes as they clatter on the ground as he follows behind. “Hold there, Your Grace,” he says as he catches up. “I want to reassure you that my marriage does not mean I will deny Miss Campbell her friendships.”

“But?” I reply, studying the flash of expressions across his face.