Page 6 of Bride of the Fae Duke

And now … Hell, how could she possibly refuse him, if it was not merely her own future she was securing?

‘Thank you.’ Her hands were suddenly trembling; she tried to bury them in her apron, then realised she would never wear those aprons again and only trembled harder. Just a few words and she would no longer be Nellie Finch.Lady Locke– a thought as surreal as it was terrifying, a door she’d open and never be able to close again. ‘Then … then I believe we have an agreement, Your Grace.’

He did not smile.

He did not kneel again.

His nod was the gesture of a man closing a sale, and his grey eyes remained as cold as ever. But there was a small crack of relief in his voice as he cleared his throat and said, ‘I’m sure Radcliffe will give you the day off to pack your and your sister’s belongings. I’ll make an appointment at the Temple for tomorrow morning.’

And with that meagre goodbye, he swept around and was gone, leaving Nellie weak-kneed and light-headed on Lady Eyestone’s velvet couch.

Chapter 3

TheLocketownhousewassituated along one of Elidian’s most prestigious canals, a stone’s throw from the Princeps’s seat and the domed building where the Senate gathered to make day-to-day decisions. It was the kind of neighbourhood Nellie had only ever visited to run errands, and even then she’d felt out of place; a humble housemaid certainly did not go for morning walks in this part of the city.

A duchess, on the other hand …

Sweet divines, aduchess.

Her knees were still trembling when she stepped out of Lord Locke’s hackney; if not for his footmen, she may have tripped and crashed onto the spotless cobblestones. Her thoughts were a screaming haze. Half of the Temple ceremony had gone by in a blur, and the other half would not stop rising from her memories in jumbled shreds – the empty rows of chairs, Lord Eyestone by her side, and no one but Anne, a stiff-shouldered Mrs. Radcliffe, and a wide-eyed Lady Eyestone to witness the proceedings. Locke, it seemed, hadn’t bothered to invite anyone at all.

Perhaps even his friends had rather given up hope for wife number seven.

Her knees wobbled more fiercely.

Behind Nellie, the footmen helped Anne step from the hackney, her sister’s quiet voice thanking each of them with heartbreaking sincerity. Servants poured from the house to take care of their luggage. Three small bags, carrying all of their earthly possessions – even Locke had blinked in surprise when he’d realised how little she’d brought with her.

Locke …

Herhusband.

More than anything, she wanted to run like the wind and leave this deadly charade behind. But her little sister appeared next to her, frail and rosy in the faded pink dress that had been Nellie’s and their mother’s before … and whatever she ran from, whatever choices she might regret, she couldn’t leave Anne behind.

Which meant she had to face this.

Which meant she must be brave enough for the both of them.

So she forced a reassuring smile and turned to see the duke of Locke emerge from the hackney last – more elegantly than seemed possible due to the sheer size of him, his blue hair glowing like sapphire. No matter how warm and bright the sunlight, it couldn’t melt the duke’s countenance. Nellie was granted no more than a curt nod as he strode up to her and Anne; he didn’t meet her gaze until the last moment, and even then his expression remained blank, nothing but perhaps a touch of grim impatience to the angle of his jaw and the grey of his cat’s eyes.

‘I have business to attend to,’ he informed her, ignoring Anne entirely. ‘I’ll send my steward to show you around.’

And just like that he strode off, without even waiting for an answer. Nellie watched his broad back vanish into the shadowyhall of the townhouse with a sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach – a sensation of imminent,veryimminent regret.

‘I don’t think I like him much, Nell,’ Anne whispered beside her.

That was all she needed to pull herself together.

Because she could regret her own decisions as much as she liked, but Anne should not –couldnot – suffer the same fate, not if Nellie had any say in the matter. With newfound resolve, she let out a breezy chuckle, grabbed her sister’s left hand, and lightly said, ‘Good thing you didn’t have to marry him, then, isn’t it? Let’s go take a look inside, before we melt to puddles in this heat.’

Anne’s attempt at a laugh was half-hearted, even as she obediently followed towards that towering façade of red brick and white, ornate woodwork. ‘But Nell …’

‘Don’t you dare worry about me, little bean.’ Was she trying to convince herself or her sister now? Walking up the steps to the open door felt not unlike stepping between some monster’s gaping jaws, and yet she kept going, giving herself no time to falter and show fear. ‘I’m a duchess now, remember? That’s worth a little unpleasantness. I’ll be perfectly fine.’

Anne’s silence was more damning than her objections could have been.Duchesses can be unhappy, too, her glowering expression said, loud and clear in the shimmering morning air.Duchesses can die.

Since that was undeniably true, Nellie decided it would be best not to respond to those unspoken arguments.

‘We’ll go shopping tomorrow,’ she continued with stubborn cheer, letting go of her sister’s hand as she stepped over the threshold. Servants hurriedly moved out of the way around her – a more disorienting feeling than even the sound of her new title on her tongue, but she pressed on all the same. ‘You’re in dire need of new dresses, and so am I. Perhaps we can evenafford to visit Miss Grey’s shop! And we’ll buy you some books and a bunch of those Issian honey treats you liked so much, and …’

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