Page 36 of An Unwanted Spinster for the Duke
Even though it pained her, she almost expected that the Duke would turn around and take a look at his prospective bride, but he was too distant for someone who had requested Elizabeth’s presence.
“Come inside,” their father ordered, his voice far too light—an unnatural sweetness that unsettled Marianne more than any fury ever had.
That tone meant one thing: he believed he was winning.
But then he caught sight of Marianne.
His smile faltered for the briefest moment, his eyes narrowing just slightly, as though she’d disrupted the arrangement he’d already laid out in his mind.
“I hadn’t expectedbothof you,” he emphasized with a stiff, practiced smile. “But no matter. Do come in. The Duke of Oakmere has something he wishes to say.”
The sisters hesitantly stepped inside.
Marianne stayed by Elizabeth’s side, bracing herself for what was to come. Lord Grisham narrowed his eyes at her, and she tried to act as if she didn’t see his glare. She knew he would not dare say or do anything to them in front of the Duke.
The Duke turned as they entered, his gaze flicking briefly over Elizabeth before settling—unexpectedly—on Marianne. But itwas only for a heartbeat. Then, he looked away, addressing Lord Grisham in that same composed, cool manner.
“I had hoped to speak with you privately, my lord,” he began, “but this may prove more efficient.”
Marianne stood near the door, her hands folded tightly in front of her.Efficient.That was all this was to him—an efficient transaction. Her stomach dropped.
“I’ve appreciated our partnership,” the Duke continued. “It has served both our estates well. I believe it is time to take the next step—forge a more permanent alliance.”
There it was.
Marianne’s chest burned. So that was what this was. He had kissed her—kissedher—and now he would pretend it never happened.
Of course, he had come for Elizabeth, whose beauty made sense. Elizabeth, whom their father paraded like a prize mare. Marianne should not be surprised.
But still, something inside her coiled. Her eyes darted to Elizabeth, who already wore a smile of gracious triumph.
“Ah,” Lord Grisham said, his expression brightening with satisfaction. “It would be an honor, Your Grace.”
Marianne stared at the Duke. She couldn’t read him. He looked at Elizabeth then, just as she had expected. So why did it sting?
Then, suddenly, his gaze shifted and locked onto her.
“Lord Grisham,” he declared, “I would like to marry your daughter.”
Marianne’s breath caught.
Her father all but beamed. “Your Grace, it would be my greatest pleasure to offer Elizabeth?—”
“Marianne,” the Duke added quickly. “Lady Marianne.”
Silence fell like a stone.
Marianne stared at him.
Her father opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I-I beg your pardon?”
The Duke blinked once. Twice. As though coming out of a dream.
Marianne’s heart pounded. He didn’t mean it, he was going to correct himself?—
Yet he nodded as if to confirm what he’d just said.
“I would like to marry Lady Marianne,” the Duke repeated, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet—no flinch, no flicker of hesitation.
