Page 21 of A Bride for the Sinful Duke

Her father looked down for a moment. “Your mother would have been so proud of you today,” he said softly. “She loved you more than anything in this world.”

Juliet’s heart clenched at the mention of her mother. “Do not bring my mother into this conversation. You never genuinely cared for her.”

“I truly did love her,” Algernon said, his voice heavy with emotion. “She was the best part of my life. And now, I see so much of her in you.”

“Clearly not enough to have wanted me by your side,” Juliet sighed, irritated by her father’s dramatics.

Even now, he was not concerned for her or her well-being. Not once since her return had he acknowledged how difficult her life must have been all those years. Instead, he was still making excuses, trying to convince her to pardon him, as though he was the one who had suffered the most.

“Juliet, please…”

“I did what you wanted; I married the Duke as you had planned. Now, I ask that you allow me to do what I can to make the most of my new lifewithout you in it, just as you have always preferred.” Juliet raised her chin, determined to appear as firm as she possibly could. “Goodbye, Father.”

He reached out as if to touch her, but Juliet stepped away from his reach with a cold expression.

Watching the exchange from a respectful distance, Hector stepped forward and took Juliet’s hand again.

“That is enough Lord Campton,” he said, stepping between them.

Her father flinched and acceded to Hector’s demand.

Satisfied with Lord Campton’s reaction, Hector turned back to Juliet, “Shall we?”

Juliet nodded. “Yes, let us go.”

Lord Campton patted the Duke’s shoulder. “Take care of my daughter. Please.”

Hector gave him a cold stare before turning away. Holding his wife’s arm, they made their way to the waiting carriage.

As the door closed behind them, Juliet glanced back at the house, her heart heavy with the finality of the farewell.

CHAPTER 7

“Your Grace?” The coachman turned to the couple as they settled into the carriage seats.

“Yes, we can depart now,” Hector instructed.

The coachman started the carriage with a whip crack, and the horses lurched forward, their hooves clopping gently through the darkness of the cobblestone street.

Juliet adjusted herself in the plush seat of the carriage, the strong scent of polished leather and cedar wood surrounding her. Hector sat opposite her, his expression unreadable, his posture rigid.

Silence descended as the ride began. Juliet’s mind was filled with unexpressed thoughts and emotions. The gentle sway of the carriage only seemed to amplify the tension. Hector’s gaze was fixed out the window, his jaw set in a hard line.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Juliet finally spoke.

“Your Grace,” she began.

“Hector will do just fine. You are my wife now.”

Juliet could feel the rush of blood in her cheeks. She didn’t understand why something so simple as referring to him by name made her feel tingles all over her body.

He turned to face her, his expression still impassive.

“This marriage,” he said slowly, “is one of convenience. There will be no expectations of love or affection. We will fulfill our duties, but beyond that, we will live our lives separately. You will live in my house, share my name, and enjoy all the luxuries of being a duchess, but do not expect more than that from me. I shall mind my business, and you will mind yours.”

Juliet didn’t blink. She had expected that arrangement, but the cold indifference with which his words were spoken made her cautious.

If he is incapable of enduring a single day with me before setting down his rules and expectations, then why did he bother going through with the marriage at all?

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