Page 3 of Three Nights with the Beastly Duke

Though he said it in a matter-of-fact tone, Lavinia could almost hear the amusing dread.

“You do not like London’s social life, Your Grace?” Lavinia asked, intrigued.

Every gentleman she knew adored being part of theton.It was a way to easily show off the life of excess they’ve achieved and be boastful about it.

“It is not my favorite place, no,” Arthur agreed. “But your father has told me that you and your sisters are indeed social creatures, and so I must indulge.”

Lavinia wanted to say that she despised thetonas much as he, but she kept it to herself. Why would she want him to know this anyway?

“We are, indeed,” she said instead. “In fact, we shall be attending the Porters’ ball the day after tomorrow.”

“I shall see you there, then,” Arthur told her, giving her another curt bow. “With hope, Miss Rebecca will be in better spirits, and we might find time to converse. But I should make my departure now. I’m afraid the day holds many other responsibilities to tend to.”

Arther shook Kenneth’s hand, and the two men exchanged departing pleasantries. Before he put on his top hat, Arthur turned to Lavinia a final time, his green eyes directly meeting her brown ones, and he winked.

“It was a pleasure, Miss Dennis.”

“Indeed it was,” Lavinia agreed, curtseying to him.

A servant appeared out of seemingly nowhere to escort Arthur back to his carriage. Lavinia’s father waited until he was sure that his future son-in-law was out of earshot before he turned to his eldest daughter with a cold gaze.

“She is not ill, is she?” he asked, using his strictest fatherly tone.

“Papa, you know this is not what Mama wanted for us,” Lavinia replied, no longer holding any pretense. “Rebecca is frightened of him. Terrified! She cannot do this.”

“She can, and shewill,” Kenneth retorted, taking a step toward his eldest daughter. “She wanted you to marry as well, Lavinia, and you had plenty of chances. And yet, you chose spinsterhood. So, yes, I may have failed your mother. But so have you.”

Kenneth’s harsh words hit Lavinia’s ears like a stinging slap, and she flinched. It wasn’t like her father to talk to her like this.

Realizing the brunt of his words, Kenneth sighed as he bowed and shook his head. “Forgive me, my dear,” he apologized. “But you simply do not understand what it is like to have children. You must do what’s best for them. Even if they hate you for it.”

“Well then,” Lavinia whispered, going back to the stairs. “If that’s what being a parent means, then I am glad I shall never become one.”

Kenneth pleaded for her to wait, and Lavinia paused and turned on the stairs, glaring at him. “You act like spinsterhood is a disease you can catch. Like just because I chose it, Rebecca and Agnes will follow. But you forget, Papa, that the reason I chose this life was so that I could take care of them like our mother couldn’t. So, perhaps you could stop looking at me as if I am single due to not being wanted.”

Kenneth gave his daughter a sorrowful look, but before he could reply, Lavinia quickly made her way upstairs, her throat and eyes burning, and locked herself and Rebecca into their little sister’s room.

* * *

Arthur sat in his carriage, contemplating the arrangement he’d just made. Rebecca Dennis, on paper, did indeed seem like a fine young woman. And it didn’t actually bother him at all that they were not able to meet that day. He did, however, get to meet the older sister, and that was indeed intriguing.

When he’d first spotted her on the steps, he had felt a thrill of excitement, hoping that she was his Rebecca. She was, in his opinion, a breathtaking woman. Tall. Slender. Slightly intimidating in the way she looked one directly in the eye. And those eyes. So dark that they were almost black, framed by sharp eyebrows and cheekbones. Her hair, as dark as her eyes, looked thick and luscious as it tumbled over her shoulders. She reminded him of the wild Fresians he’d once seen on his tour—beautiful and untamed.

Unlike most of the ladies he’d seen thus far, she did not dress herself in bright colors and had been clad in a modest, dove-gray gown. She wasn’t trying like the others to catch a husband. But that’s why he had to marry Rebecca, was it not? Because Lavinia was now deemed too old to marry.

Personally, he did not care, but his mother had made it clear that he would bring no more scandal into their home. His scar, a permanent fixture and reminder of what he’d survived for their country, was bad enough.

When he arrived at the London Whitekin Estate, thoughts of the eldest Dennis daughter dissipated when he saw a stack of luggage outside of the front door.

“What is all of this?” he asked quizzically when he saw his sister running toward him.

Behind, walking much more slowly and gracefully, was their mother. Irritation was written all over her face, and he knew he missed something big. Susan flew into his arms, hugging him tightly, and immediately began talking at the speed of a rather annoyed squirrel.

“Slow down, slow down,” he soothed, pulling Susan away from him so he could hunker down and look into her eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Mama is sending me back home!” Susan wailed. “After all of the promises she made about finally allowing me to have a Season, she’s sending me back to Whitekin!”

Arthur looked up at his mother, alarmed. As far as he knew the trip was to find both him and his sister a match. And while he had balked at the idea, Susan had been all for it.

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