Page 8 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

“Did you get your letter?” Diana probed.

“No,” Louisa answered. “He didn’t give it to me.”

“Who? The Beast?”

“Don’t call him that!” she hissed. “Sorry, Diana.”

“Don’t apologize. I am sorry,” Diana said with a smile. “What was he like?”

If Louisa had the right words, she would be able to answer the question, but she only said, “Nothing like I could have imagined.”

Chapter Three

Your Grace,

It’s been only a short week since I saw you, yet it feels like an age. I wonder if you miss me as I miss you. Will you invite me to tea again, or will you perhaps dance with me at the Franworths’ ball next week?

I look forward to seeing you again. My family seeks to marry me off quickly. Do you think you might propose soon?

Do think of me fondly while you read this.

Yours faithfully,

Louisa.

Percival couldn’t suppress the snort that escaped his lips as he read her letter again, trying to reconcile the sweet words withthe bold woman who had ventured into his estate. When he first read the letter, he wondered if perhaps his late brother, Michael, had been courting someone. But after meeting the lady, it was clear that wasn’t the case.

His brother, as vain as one could be, would never court someone with a scar like hers. That was the first thing that caught Percival’s eye. He wondered what could have led to her having such a gruesome mark on her pretty face.

His hand subconsciously touched his scar. She hadn’t even shrunk back in fear the way his maids had when he had come back.

“It was a means to escape an engagement I did not want. It is not important.”

He usually would not take interest in someone who would fake courting someone else to escape an engagement, but her going as far as writing him a letter to ensure no one uncovered her charade intrigued him.

He hadn’t laughed truly since he had returned to England a month ago, and he doubted he would again, but she had made him break character with her words.

“I do not know you well enough to have an opinion,”she had said, but he had garnered enough from one meeting.

She was unlike any woman he had ever met, and her bravery to step into hishauntedhome could not go unnoticed. He knew about the rumours surrounding him and his family’s estate from the information Eli, the Baron Gillingham, relayed to him in a bid to bring him out of his seclusion.

“Your Grace,” the butler called as he entered the room. “I have escorted your guest to her carriage.”

“Was anyone else with her?” Percival asked.

“Yes. Her sister.”

“All right.”

He didn’t need a scandal in the event anyone else saw her leaving his family home.

“Might I ask who she is?” the butler asked.

“I do not know, Tobias,” Percival admitted, handing him the letter. “She came looking for this. I spotted her through the window, roaming around. Have we gotten any more applications? I need more servants.”

“They all seem scared for some reason, Your Grace,” Tobias answered, not looking at him. “This is a rather interesting letter. Who was it intended for? The late Duke?”

“You saw her, Tobias,” Percival pointed out. “Michael would never.”

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