Page 12 of To Ensnare a Duke

The days grow scarier with each bit of unrest. At times, I wonder at the prudence of going to these places, but in the end, I am a voice for them. They cannot speak because no one will listen. Granted, even as a Lady, no one will listen.

As a man? As a man, everyone will take notice. I’m just thankful my brother is leaving when he is. Until he is gone, I’ll continue to play the role of a delicate flower, biding my time until I can buck the yoke and be free.

Unfortunately, that also means no longer vexing my brother. Both he and Portswell do not see me as a threat, and that is how I intend to keep it. Striding over, I put on a demure smile, lowering my gaze in submissive repose. The moment I come closer, all conversation stops, riling up my curiosity.

I keep it in check, however, as I curtsy before the duke. "I have been informed that you are to watch over me in my brother's stead?"

"Yes," he grinds out, his expression somewhat pained. "And I have been assured you will not make that task harder than it should be?"

I place a hand over my heart in mock outrage. "Since when have I been anything but gentle and easy?"

"Might I remind you," he smirks, "that you've caused your fair share of mischief."

"You wound me, Sir. I was but a child, unknowing of right and wrong. Now, I am older and much wiser."

"Come, Portswell. You know Augusta is an angel. She will cause you no trouble while I'm away. I can assure you."

He looks me up and down, his lips turning into a deep frown. "She is rather obedient now, I suppose."

Is it my imagination, or does he look disappointed in that fact? My brows knit together as I try to figure out this new puzzle, but his expression clears before I can even make sense of it. Perhaps it was in my imagination only?

"Your Grace," I purr, going back down into a curtsy. "You do so flatter me. I hope to hold up the Hunt name and not to bring disrespect to the house of Hardon."

"Yes. Well, your brother and I have come to an accord on who you should entertain in his absence. So worry not of your future. It is well in hand."

I turn to Greyson, willing my anger to stay below the surface. "Oh? And who is it I am supposed to enchant?"

"All in due time, sister. All in due time."

My gut churns at his words as dread fills my limbs. Seems as if my future is already decided. If I want any hope of changing it, then some catalyst has to happen. Again, my skin itches with need as I clench my fingers, digging my nails into my palm.

That small bite of pain keeps me grounded as I watch them both plan my future without me. "I have no say at all, then?" I murmur, my voice nearly lost in the air. "My opinion truly does count for naught?"

"My sweet sister," Greyson chuckles, leaning over to kiss the top of my forehead. "I have it all well in hand. I may not be the best viscount there is, but I know enough when to ask for help. Luckily, with Portswell's influence, you will be matched well before the end of this season. I just know it."

"I am thrilled," I choke out, keeping the tears at bay. "However can I thank you for taking us under your wing, Your Grace."

His lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. "Simply continue being the gentle, pliant girl you are, and we will take care of the rest."

Again, I nod, my voice lost as they continue to plan for the rest of the Season. Clothes, shoes, reticules, bonnets, shifts, trousseaus. Nothing goes unspoken as I stand there, allowing the men of the Ton to see the charade I put forth.

My heart threatens to shatter as hopelessness threads through my limbs. The only hope I have, the only respite, is knowing soon I'll be out and about, walking through the Ton with them having no clue. Bedlam indeed. If I am as ill as I fear, it's the men of society who have made me that way.

CHAPTER 7

BENEDICT

On normal days, a luncheon at the Hardon household is a quiet, gentle affair. Usually, we sit in the drawing room or one of the many parlors and partake of our quick bites in relative peace before retiring to the study so Miss Hunt can do whatever it is she does to occupy her time. Today is certainly not usual.

The main dining room hosts trays with all sorts of small sandwiches and sliced cucumbers. Little cakes dot other trays, making my mouth water. Unfortunately, the churning in my gut makes me wonder if I'll even be able to put one of the delectable morsels into my mouth.

I wish Hardon would tell me what the matter is and be done with. To summon the rest of my friends bodes ill indeed. Though he is not one with the seven of us, he is as close to me as a brother. That he asked them to come as well piques my curiosity just as much as it drives my leeriness.

Miss Hunt stands next to me, overseeing the spread as any good lady of the house. Her lips turn down in the most adorable manner, nearly causing me to chuckle.

"Is it not to your liking?"

"No, Your Grace," she murmurs back, her tone soft and yielding. "Not the food, to clarify, but to be beset with all manner of women I know nothing about. I barely had time to prepare when Greyson sprung the news on me yesterday."