Page 7 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke
“Sir, I have drawn your carriage,” Ethan said, startling Victor from his reverie. Harry came up behind him and patted him on the back.
“So, you will be there for the wedding? Nothing has changed.”
Victor shuffled his right foot. It really was not in his character to feel foolish but he did at the moment. He could not even look his friend in the eye. “You did not give me a bloody choice,” he retorted.
“Remember that. It is a special time for me, and my best man has to be by my side.”
“Blasted thing you did. You could not have chosen anyone else? Why did you have to put me in that position?”
“You act as if I have a noose around your neck, Victor.”
“If you make me wear that necktie thing, yes you do.”
Harry chuckled, “I have to bid Amelia’s family a good night. I will see you tomorrow and about that…”
Victor hurriedly walked down the stairs, his legs whipping fast in front of him. He would rather swallow his own tongue than speak of Daphne again. He was home and in his bed in about an hour. Under the sheets, he closed his eyes and her face floated up in his mind.
It was not as it had been that night. A mix of fear and determination. Or the low trembling in her spine when their lips met. Tonight, he saw her face smiling up at that man in the red coat. She seemed happy, save for that one time their eyes met.
Best to leave her alone.
It was the proof Victor needed. If he entered her life, he would only cause misery and pain. It was the curse of being an Anderson. His blood had been tainted the moment he was born.
The morning came too quickly. He was drenched in sweat by the time his manservant came to call on him. Victor went through his ablutions, aided by his valet.
As he did every morning, he dined on fried eggs, ham, beans, and a cup of tea. All of it tasted like charcoal and the tea, like piss. He picked up the local newspaper and flipped through it until he came to the banns.
The banns were read every week. He stared at his friend’s and Amelia Parsons’ names. He waited to feel the thing that would compel him to want the same and it was not there. It was fitting for Harry, and Victor could not be happier for him.
“Your Grace, she is here again. Shall I tell her to leave?”
Victor retracted his gaze from the papers. The butler stood with his lips in a straight line and a displeased expression on his face. Victor restrained his laugh and pushed his teacup back.
“What does Miss Haversham want this time?”
“The housekeeper job, since you have a cook. She insists that you have to hear her out.”
“Bring her to the drawing room, I will be there in a moment.”
“Your Grace…”
“Yes, Dan?”
“She just wants to extort some money out of you. Your father always had her thrown out. She is here because she assumes you will be too soft.”
Victor paused and said softly, “I am not my father. Never make the mistake of comparing us, ever again.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.” Dan paled, cleared his throat, and hurried away. The darkness that had overtaken Victor’s expression slowly dissipated. He released his grip on the table’s edge and the paper that was crinkled there thumped to the floor.
The portraits of his family members lined the hall, leading to the drawing room. At the exit, he was cornered by his mother. The dowager duchess had plans with the Queen’s ladies. The diamond of the Season was yet to be chosen and there were discussions regarding the ones seen at the ball the previous night.
All of this information, Victor learned against his will.
“I could talk to her for you.”
“It is just a woman after some money, I can handle it.”
“It is a mistress your father set aside who has been flaunting it in our faces for years.”
