Page 8 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
“We wouldn’t want the ton to start spinning rumors about what a rushed…affair the union is.” Adam chose his words carefully, his tone soft but dripping with venom. “I will marry your niece, but it will be in a ceremony that suits my tastes, and on a timeline that satisfies me.”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” The earl bowed his head, surprising Adam by not arguing until Lord Claridge looked up, eyes devious.
“Luckily you have clearly demonstrated in this business deal that your taste is to prefer privacy, and your timeline is swift. A man of your status should not be wasting time.”
Adam felt every bone in his body scream against being bent and manipulated to the earl’s will.
“You have grown to know me quite well in all our business dealings,” he said, a bitter smile playing on his lips.
He had never spoken to the earl before that morning, and he hoped for both their sakes that he never had to exchange words with the man again.
“I look forward to the happy day,” Lord Claridge smiled, seeming to relax.
Adam could not let that smug smile remain.
He took a swift step toward the man, his eyes narrowing.
“You will regret this, Claridge. I will see to it personally,” he vowed in a low, gravelly voice, his tone a chilling promise.
Chapter Three
“Stay out of sight, Rosaline,” Countess Evelyn Arnold of Claridge hissed into her niece’s ear, fluttering a fan coquettishly as if sharing a deeply guarded secret.
Such a charade,Rosaline thought, her eyes rolling slightly.As if my presence here is a blight upon this perfect garden party. As if it’s some scandalous affair.
She forced a smile, the lines around her eyes deepening as she suppressed a sigh.
“We cannot have those rumors of your curse spreading any more than they have.” The countess glanced around, surveying the picture-perfect table settings and fine decorations of her garden party, anticipating the arrival of her guests with smug satisfaction.
Rosaline sighed, but simply nodded and smiled in reply.
As if I could possibly forget,she thought, her gaze drifting to the scars that marred her arms.A constant reminder of my misfortune.
“Answer me, child. Or have you gone mute?” Lady Claridge frowned hard at Rosaline, her brows knitting together in a display of irritation.
Her frustration seemed out of place against the stark contrast of her too-bright pink dress and stark white lace.
A fitting metaphor for her character,Rosaline mused.
“Yes, Aunt Evelyn,” Rosaline ducked her head and swept a graceful curtsey.
However, her gesture caused a gap to form between the end of her glove and the hem of her sleeve, revealing a jagged scar on her wrist.
She snatched Rosaline’s wrist, her touch rough and impatient.
“And keep those scars hidden!” The countess paused, studying Rosaline with a critical eye.
As if I could ever forget,Rosaline thought, her heart pounding in her chest.A constant reminder of my ugliness.
“I suppose it is too late to find a hat to match your dress,” Lady Claridge sighed, turning away. “It is a pity I did not think of it sooner, to hide that awful scar on your face. Next time, remind me so we can all be spared the sight; I fear you will put my guests off their appetites.”
Rosaline forced a smile, her eyes sparkling with a defiant light.
As if my presence here, a mere shadow in the grand scheme of things, could possibly diminish their appetites.
“I will do better next time, Aunt Evelyn,” she replied, her voice steady. “Would you prefer I restrict myself to the house?”
She tried to hide her growing impatience, but her voice wavered slightly.
