Page 4 of His Forsaken Duchess
He gave an insouciant grunt, his gaze fixed ahead.
Undeterred, she continued, “Cook prepared a marvelous menu. I believe the pheasant will be particularly delightful, and the guests shall enjoy a pineapple dessert of exotic origin.”
He merely nodded, offering no further comment.
Despite his coldness, Audrey felt a thrill in her chest. She was now a duchess, and soon, all of London would see her as such—on the arm of a man admired and respected by all.
But the moment they stepped outside the church, the Duke turned to her, his face still devoid of emotion. “I have done my duty,” he said flatly, his voice cutting through the crisp air. “As promised.”
Audrey blinked, startled by his abruptness. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone carefully controlled.
“I mean that I will now be leaving for my estate in Cumberland,” he replied. “If we are fortunate, we shall never cross paths again.”
Her hand slid from his arm to fall at her side. “What? Surely you jest.”
“I do not,” he said, his gaze unyielding. “Our arrangement was clear. You have the title, the status, and the wealth. I have fulfilled my obligation. My one condition was that we would part ways once the vows were spoken. I intend to uphold that.”
Audrey stared at him, her pulse quickening with indignation. “You cannot be serious. The reception—ourreception—awaits. The ton will never let me forget it if you abandon me now.”
“I have no desire to placate the ton,” he said sharply. “Their opinions are of no consequence to me.”
Her composure faltered, but she quickly straightened her spine. “You cannot mean to humiliate me like this.”
“This arrangement was never meant to include anything beyond what I offered,” he said, his tone as unrelenting as his gaze. “You knew that. One rule, Duchess—once we married, we would part ways. No exceptions.”
Audrey’s pride flared, the sting of his words sharp against her resolve.
She lifted her chin in defiance. “Very well, Your Grace,” she said coolly, her voice cutting like a blade. “Run off to your solitude. I dare say I shall enjoy the peace far more without you.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and swept back toward the church, her dress trailing behind her like the armor of a queen. If he thought to wound her, he would find her far too proud to bleed.
And she hoped never to cross paths with him again!
One
Audrey, come to London at once.
Audrey Hall clutched her stepmother’s missive tightly, her knuckles whitening as the carriage rattled over the cobblestones.
Her other hand toyed with the ruby necklace resting at her throat—a bold yet elegant piece she had found tucked away in her husband’s London townhouse.
It was one of the few tangible reminders of the title she now bore and the husband who had so thoroughly abandoned her. The gesture calmed her fraying nerves, though the churning in her stomach remained.
What could possibly have gone so wrong?
As the carriage rolled to a halt before the grand façade of her family home, the butler opened the door and stepped outside,bowing stiffly. “Your Grace,” he intoned, his voice clipped, “the family is assembled in the drawing room.”
Audrey nodded, her grip on the missive tightening as she descended. She followed the butler through the familiar halls, her mind spinning with possibilities. She could already hear the raised voice of her father, the Earl of Stonebridge, reverberating through the house.
“Are you happy now that you have brought disgrace to this family?” His words reached her ears before she even stepped through the door.
Her pulse quickened as she entered the drawing room. Her father stood near the fireplace, his face mottled with fury. Her stepmother, Grace Winslow, sat rigid on the settee, her expression a mask of poorly concealed distress. And there, at the center of it all, was Lilianna, crumpled on the floor in a heap of sobs.
“What is happening here?” Audrey demanded, her voice sharper than she had intended as she glanced between them.
Grace rose gracefully, smoothing her skirts, and wordlessly handed her a sheet of paper. Audrey unfolded it with trembling fingers and scanned the printed lines.
It was a gossip sheet, the sort she despised. Her eyes darted over the scathing words.
