Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
* * *
“Well, she was.” He shrugged.
* * *
Janice laughed. “Well, one does not say that, whether it’s true or not.”
* * *
“She wanted to trap me into marriage. I would not have it.”
* * *
“Indeed.”
* * *
He looked at her. “Forewarned is forearmed so do not think you can lure me with your softness and your beauty and your friendship. I have no intention of perpetuating my bloodline.”
* * *
“Understood,” Janice said serenely.
* * *
She could see what a source of anger marriage was to him, and her curiosity was piqued.
* * *
What could possibly have happened to cause that?
* * *
As far as she knew, his parents had had a fairly ordinary marriage before his mother died.
* * *
Perhaps it was the pain of watching his father grieve?
* * *
She knew that the late duke had not married again but she did not want to make assumptions.
* * *
“How long are you in the district for?”
* * *
“As long as it takes to tear down my father’s holdings.” He gritted his teeth, his eyes growing colder.
* * *
Janice hummed thoughtfully, watching him closely. “And once that is done? What then?”
* * *
He seemed surprised by the question. “I…have not thought about that.”
* * *
She finally gave in to the urge to cover his hand with hers and squeeze. “Perhaps you should,” she said softly.
* * *
He met her eyes, his own intent before looking away. He grabbed his hand out from under hers and got to his feet. “I should go,” he declared. “It grows late.”
* * *
Her father got to his feet. “Yes, I shall accompany you. It looks like rain.”
* * *
The duke held up his hand. “No need for that. It’s a brisk walk for me and I don’t mind a bit of rain.”
* * *
He nodded to everyone in the room. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”
* * *
The room said their goodbyes to the duke, and he walked out, with her father. Janice watched them go with a sigh. Rhys came to sit next to her. “I know he is very handsome my dear, but the duke of Hampton is not the man to throw your handkerchief at.”
* * *
Janice gave him a look. “What makes you think I am doing that?”
* * *
Rhys snorted. “I saw you holding his hand.”
* * *
“He clearly needs help. That does not mean my feelings are romantic.”
* * *
He shrugged. “Whatever you have to tell yourself. Just as long as you remember, that man is bad news.”
* * *
“Your message is noted, Rhys. Now, why don’t you go back to making cow eyes at my sister?”
* * *
He sighed. “I am not trying to hurt you, Lady Janice. I care for you like a brother and I would not like to see you come to grief.”
* * *
Her anger softened at his words. “I understand. But there is nothing to worry about, I do assure you.”
* * *
He nodded. “Good.”
* * *
Getting to his feet, he returned to his seat. Janice sighed as her father returned to the room. “Has he gone?”
* * *
“Yes. That is one unhappy man.”
* * *
Janice’s brow rose. “Indeed,” she said softly.
CHAPTER 6
Arthur stepped into the manor, handing his wet coat and hat over to the butler. The house echoed with the man’s footsteps as he crossed the foyer to hang up his coat. Arthur sighed, feeling the silence as even more deafening as he walked down the hall to the parlor.
* * *
“Would you like to have dinner now, Your Grace?” Anson, his butler, asked.
* * *
He shook his head. “I have already had dinner,” he said to the surprised-looking man. “The Ravens invited me.”
* * *
Anson looked even more astonished. “I…see. Shall I send for some hot chocolate to warm you up then?”
* * *
Arthur thought about it. “That would be nice. Send it to the library. I think I shall read a bit.”
* * *
He changed direction, walking into his father’s extensive library and taking a seat on the brown leather chesterfield by the window. He looked outside, where the downpour had increased significantly, glad to be warm and dry inside. A servant came in to light the fire while another brought a tray of chocolate and honey cakes.
* * *
It was all very warm and cozy and yet the room felt cold and unwelcoming – a room with no personality, built for show. Arthur felt like a prop, a caricature of a duke with his cheroot in hand and a drink in the other, reading for his own edification. He felt distinctly the emptiness that was his life and the bleakness of it had him adding a generous portion of rum to his hot chocolate.
* * *
He wondered if he could call the butler in and engage him in conversation or perhaps that would be too strange. He sighed, wishing he was back in London where he practically lived at his club.