Page 9 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

Not nearly the meek little thing she has played at being.

“What is expected of you?” Caspian said, not wasting time hiding his frustration. “That is for me to decide, as I decide it. Once we wed, you will be a duchess, and you will act like one. You will obey.”

She exhaled sharply from her nose. “Oh, lucky me. A duchess. Is this not the happiest day of my life?”

Caspian’s eyes flashed with anger as he bore over her. He did not mean to do so, but he was still coming to terms with what he wanted from this marriage. What he had seen earlier, too, suggested at the very least that Miss Witherington might be subservient, the type who would not cause him headaches or give him a reason to regret this whole thing.

But the look of defiance she directed at him contradicted that belief, and now Caspian wondered if it might be wise to cancel the marriage before it even began.

“I will remind you, Miss Witherington, that the marriage has not yet been made official. Would you like me to fetch your father? I will happily change my mind and leave you in his capable hands if it is preferable.”

“What?” Her blue eyes widened, and her face paled. “No! Please, that is not…” She looked pleadingly at him. “I did not mean…”

“What, exactly, did you mean then?” he said sharply. “I did not expect to find myself engaged today, Miss Witherington. In fact, until an hour ago, I had hoped I never would be. And while I do not expect your undying gratitude, it might be nice if you, at the very least, realized that you are not the sole victim here. Not even close.”

She winced and looked away, finally showing a hint of deference. “I apologize, Your Grace. I did not mean…” She grimaced, and despite all she had said, Caspian felt a stab of pity. “It is just that I have spent my entire life being controlled by my father.”

“I am not your father.”

“Which is why I wish to know. What is this marriage?” Again, she looked up at him. Hope, in those blue eyes. “I am your prisoner? Because if that is what you want from me, then… then…” She bit into her lip, and the hope in her eyes transformed into defiance. “Then I will have no choice but to deny your hand.”

Again, Caspian looked at her with bewilderment.

She was undoubtedly terrified, and he could see from the way she fidgeted how nervous she was. In a way, her determination to establish herself was endearing, proof that she was not like the other ladies Caspian had met. Definitely not like those he knew would marry him without question.

But Caspian was tired. He was annoyed. And he was not one to barter for a circumstance that he did not want in the first place!

So, rather than showing her deference and easing her worry, Caspian did as he often did when put with his back to the wall. He stood his ground and bullied his way through the problem.

“Deny me?” he scoffed. “And you think that is an option, do you?”

“It is,” she said without sounding like she believed it.

“And then what? You will be shamed. You will be scandalized. Never mind your father’s wrath. Likely, you will be forced to live your life as a spinster, banished from society for the rest of your days.”

“A small price to pay for my freedom.”

“That is not…” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I am trying to help you. Why can you not see that?”

“Then answer the question,” she fired back. “What will this marriage be?”

“Whatever I want it to be!” he shouted before he could stop himself. Miss Witherington leaned back in shock, and Caspian almost apologized… Almost. “You wish to know what I want? I want obedience. I want peace of mind. I want you to be grateful for what I have done. I saved you, Miss Witherington, and the least that you can do is realize that I am not the enemy.”

“Nor is a goaler,” she said. “But he still holds the keys.”

“You are…” He clicked his tongue as he tried to temper his anger. How had he been so wrong about her? She had appeared so helpless, so utterly lost. Certainly not the firebrand she was turning out to be. “I know that you believe you have options.” He spoke slowly and carefully. “But the simple fact is that you do not.”

“I do⁠—”

“I am the one with options here,” he cut her off. “I came to you, hoping that we might reach an agreement. That you might see what I have done as a mercy, and act accordingly. But now, I see you for what you are.”

“And what is that?”

“A brat,” he snapped. “Spoiled. And before you say anything else, before you make your threats, know that I am this close to changing my mind. Pretend that is what you want, but we both know what will happen to you after is far worse.”

“So, what then? I should just obey you?” She shook her head, her chin wobbling. “I have done that my entire life, and this is what it has given me.”

“Better that than the alternative.”