Page 10 of A Duchess Disciplined

Lady Dorothy fidgeted with her gown. “There is our family?—”

“Surely, it is not the third act already,” William interrupted, turning his attention back to Lady Catherine. “This is surely one of Shakespeare’s comedic interludes, rather than a dramatic moment.”

What other metaphor might be used to describe a family clucking like hens and refusing to launch a proper defense, save for one foolish slip of a lady?

“Is it? Which play are you thinking about?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Are you Puck?” Lady Catherine asked.

“Do you believe I am Puck?”

Lady Catherine smiled. “I do not think you want me to answer that question, Your Grace.”

He kept his expression cold and composed. William strongly suspected that Lady Catherine meant to insult him, perhaps by suggesting that he was the character of hapless Nick Bottom, who was transformed into a man with an ass’s head. She thought she was clever, did she?

William desired nothing more than to remove that smirk from her pretty face, the foolish girl. His palm twitched. He ached to correct that haughty behavior over his knee. Would it not be enjoyable to teach this woman the pleasures of the bedroom, which he knew well, and to mold her into a perfect Duchess of Sarsen?

“Enough!” William snapped.

Beside him, Lady Catherine started. Her blue eyes widened, and she took an uneven step backward. “Your Grace—” Her voice was nearly reproachful.

William stood and raked his hand through his hair, shaking away the few dark brown strands that caught on his fingertips. “Enough,” he repeated. “I would expect that the Duke of Reeds would be more dignified. Instead, you simper and argue, and you let this disgraceful slip of a girl insult me! Think of your father’s memory. He wanted this marriage. Why should you refuse him?”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Even Lady Catherine seemed to have lost all her words. The Duke of Reeds worked his jaw and shook his head.

“This matter concerns my family, and we must think carefully about the consequences of honoring our father’s contract with you,” he said, his words measured. “Given that you have sisters of your own, I am sure you understand my reasons for hesitation. I do not imagine that you would wed them to a man who you scarcely know.”

“You do know me,” William argued.

“We have not been in one another’s company for some time,” Reeds insisted, glancing towards Lady Catherine. “While it is true that our families were once staunch allies, that is no longer true. I will not gamble with my sister’s happiness.”

Interesting. It seemed as if the young woman held such sway over her brother thathewould bend toherwishes. This entire household was amiss.

“I see.”

“You are welcome to stay at our estate,” Reeds continued, “while we decide if we wish to honor our father’s agreement. If you desire otherwise, we will send word for you once we have reached our decision.”

William clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the duke coldly. Reeds glanced at his sisters, his expression frantic. It was obvious that the man drew courage from them. What a soft-hearted man!

“I will remain here and sample your hospitality,” William said. “Perhaps, by the time you have decided to honor your father’s wishes, we will know one another a little better. We are to be brothers, after all. I respect your love for your sisters and will allow you time to consider my proposal. In the meantime, I will stay here and enjoy your hospitality.”

He would wait for the solicitor, if only because the law would support his claim. William was owed a bride, and it would be easier to get her if he humored Reeds this once.

“Will you?” Catherine asked.

“Yes,” Reeds said, shooting his sister a fierce look.

William nearly rolled his eyes. It was far too late for Reeds to try to rein in this young miss. He should have done that ages ago.

“My sisters and I will thoroughly discuss the matter,” Reeds said.”

“I imagine so,” William said. “I should like to be shown to my bedchamber now. I assume that your butler knows where it is?”

Eventually, Reeds would agree. As Lady Dorothy had suggested, refusing to honor the contract would mar the Leedway family’s reputation, especially if William chose to inform the rest of the tonabout the contract’s existence. Despite Reeds’s unbecoming behavior, William felt a begrudging spark of admiration for the man, who so clearly loved his sisters. In another time and place, they might have even been friends.

“Geoffrey,” Reeds said, gesturing to the family’s butler.

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