Page 22 of Three Nights with the Beastly Duke

“But now that things have changed, Lavinia, this is for you,” Marianne finished, handing the box to Arthur. “Go on, Son,” she urged.

Arthur steeled himself from his emotions and got down on one knee as he opened the box in front of Lavinia. He couldn’t fight the sense of pleasure he got from seeing her eyes light up upon seeing the large ruby and black pearl ring inside. It was an heirloom from his father’s side. His mother used to wear it daily until his father had died, and then she had tucked it away for Arthur’s future bride.

Arthur hadn’t bothered to look at the ring since his mother had taken it off. But now, as he saw it glittering on Lavinia’s hand, he realized that the ring did Lavinia justice. It matched her somehow. Far better than it ever could have matched Rebecca.

“To seal our engagement,” he said, reaching for her left hand with his free one.

He could feel Lavinia trembling the moment he touched her, and he desperately wanted to know the cause of it. Was it happiness? Or dread?

“It’s beautiful,” Lavinia whispered as he slid it on her left ring finger. “Thank you.”

“It is custom,” he stated matter-of-factly, getting up.

* * *

Lavinia waited anxiously in the hallway. After Arthur had presented her with the ring, she and her sisters had been ushered out of the room. Rebecca and Agnes had wanted to stay with her, but she had urged them to return upstairs.

Minutes passed like they were hours, but eventually, the doors to her father’s study opened, and Arthur strode out.

“Your Grace, I beg a word,” Lavinia urged, walking toward him.

“It seems you have won, Miss Dennis,” Arthur stated coldly, taking confident strides toward the door. “Our parents are ironing out the rest of the details of our upcoming nuptials, but I must take my leave. There are things to be put in place.”

“Arthur, wait,” Lavinia pleaded, reaching for his hand.

He rounded on her so suddenly that it startled her, and she began to back up. His eyes locked on hers, he followed until her back was pressed against the wall.

It was the closest she’d ever gotten to him in the daylight, and behind the rugged handsomeness of his face, she could strife written all over him. Her heart ached for the pain she had caused him.

“You like what you see?” he asked, placing his hands on the wall behind her, caging her in. “You have no choice now but to be married to this monster everyone is so afraid of.”

Anger and shame were bright in his eyes, but instead of being frightened, Lavinia slowly reached up and gingerly touched his scarred face. For a moment, his eyes closed, and his shoulders dropped, as if he enjoyed her touch. Then, suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and he pulled her hand away.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Lavinia breathed. “And I’m not unhappy that this has happened. Please, let us speak about this.”

Arthur let go of her hand, only to bring his fingers up to her face. He traced the line of her jaw, then upward toward her cheekbone. Lavinia felt a shiver of pleasure at his touch, and her breath hitched as he caressed her cheek tenderly.

He studied her face, his gaze lingering on her lips, and she was sure he was going to kiss her. In fact, she realized shewantedhim to.

“You played me like a pawn,” he stated, his voice low and full of rage.

“We were both pawns in this game,” she breathed, feeling her arousal grow despite his anger. “I just happened to knock you over first.”

Arthur leaned closer, his nose so close that he was able to gently nudge it against her own. Instinctively, Lavinia’s body gravitated forward. Their lips were so close…

Suddenly, Arthur pulled away, letting out a growling exhale.

“I’ll see you soon,wife,”he called bitterly over his shoulder as he headed for the door. “Try not to create any more scandals before our wedding.”

CHAPTERTEN

“Ithink you should take it, Miss,” Mrs. Smithe urged, her hand poised in front of the finely decorated china plates. “It was your mother’s set from her marriage, you know. She wanted you to have this.”

Lavinia held up the fine, bone-china plate next to the window, watching the light cast through. A touch of homesickness—even though she hadn’t left yet—swept through her, and she found herself gripping the plate harder, almost desperately.

“Mrs. Smithe is right,” Rebecca urged gently, patting Lavinia’s shoulder.

“Mama would have wanted you to have them,” Agnes added from her little perch.

---