Page 2 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

Caspian’s body stiffened with that final utterance. His cousin did not need to say what she meant, because she had said it already. Time and again, she raised the same point, and time and again, Caspian turned her down.

But is she right? Is my stubbornness set to ruin the child?

“You should return to the party,” he said, choosing to ignore her words. “No doubt, you are missed.”

She laughed. “They will be fine without me.”

“As will I be.”

They were at Dowager Duchess of Marlborough’s manor of the moment, sequestered in her drawing room as Caspian had needed somewhere private to speak with Miss White. Done because Timothy had been caught peeling wallpaper from the walls, free to do so because Miss White had lost track of him.

In truth, Caspian was the one who should have been watching Timothy. The boy had not wanted to attend Penelope’s garden party, and he had complained viciously about it. And while Caspian had not wanted to attend either, he forced the issue, thinking it would be good for the boy to be around his peers and children his age.

It was ironic in many ways that Caspian agreed with Timothy’s objections and that he understood the boy better at that moment than ever before.

As Timothy abhors being here, so do I. Is that why he acts this way? As he sees me do, he does the same… As I did with my own father.

“Do not change the subject,” Penelope said, dropping her hand and stepping around Caspian so that she could see his face. “Not again. Not anymore. For a time, your objections on the subject were heard, and I thought that maybe I was being too blunt.”

“You still are,” Caspian said, but with a smirk, because that was his cousin’s way, and he had always admired that about her.

“The boy does not need material things,” she pressed as she looked at him. “What he needs is warmth, love… a family. You have done your best, Caspian, and you know how proud I am of you, as would be your sister…” Her voice turned sad for a moment, and Caspian felt a pang in his chest. “But you can only do so much.”

“It will make no difference,” he sighed, feeling the fight leave him as the reality screamed in his ears to listen.

“You do not know that,” she continued. “And considering what Miss White has just said, can you really afford not to try?”

Caspian kept staring into the flames of the hearth as if seeking answers. But the heat, the way it burned his skin, felt like the flames were rejecting his objections—the undeniable truth laid bare, and one he could no longer deny.

“I will not marry for the mere sake of it,” Caspian snapped. “I will not marry just because you think it might help.”

“It is not for the mere sake of anything,” Penelope argued. “It is for Timothy. And correct me if I am wrong, but did you not once tell me that for him, you would do anything?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “That for your sister, there was no length to which you would not go?”

“I…” Caspian winced. “This is different.”

“How?” She folded her arms. “Or is it just that you know I am right? Without any good argument to make, you fall back on vagaries and emotion. Odd, for one who shows so little of it himself.”

Caspian turned and snarled at Penelope as if that might scare her away. But she kept her arms folded, the look on her face righteous and unflinching. She was right… and oh, how I hate that she is.

It was no secret that Caspian had no desire to marry. His childhood was the reason—a time when he grew up in a household where his father treated his mother with such cruelty and wickedness that it drove her to an early grave. Even worse, his father did not care and did not pretend to. In fact, he was proud of himself, calling his wife weak, while always sure to tell Caspian that if he ever married, he would likely do the same to his own wife; after all, he was his father’s son.

Thus, Caspian had made it known to the world that he would never wed. When his father died and he inherited his title, he doubled down on this assertion, adopting a life of drinking and gambling and any activity he could think of that might warn would-be debutantes away.

Not that it helped.

Despite Caspian’s reputation, he was still a duke, and he knew that should his cousin make it known that he was searching for a wife, the list of those women desperate to be named a duchess would be endless.

“I will make it as painless as possible.” Penelope must have been able to read his mind. Or maybe she could just see the defeated and objectionable look on his face? “I know what you like and do not like. I know who might be good for you.”

“It will be a short list of contenders if you do that,” he laughed bitterly. “This place… no one cares who they marry, only that they are titled. Ambition to call themselves a duchess, a driving will to set themselves apart from the rest. That is all they want.”

“And you care?” Penelope asked. “Do not tell me that you seek a love match.”

“Of course I do not!” he snapped at her.

A love match… does such a thing even exist?

She scoffed. “Leave it with me, Caspian. And please, just trust me. Timothy needs a mother, and dare I say that you might also benefit from having someone in your life, too.”