Page 26 of His Forsaken Duchess
He glanced at her, his eyebrow rising slightly as he noticed her choice. “I admit, I am surprised,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to read anything beyond fashionable novels.”
Audrey lifted her chin, a playful glint in her eyes. “And I didn’t expect the Duke of Haremore to readThe Philosophy of Nations,” she countered, before quoting a line directly from the book he held. “‘A ruler must first govern himself before he can govern others.’”
Cedric’s eyes narrowed slightly, his lips pressing together as though he were suppressing a smile.
“Impressive,” he noted. “Though I imagine you’ve taken liberties with the context.”
“Not at all,” Audrey replied breezily. “But if you’d like, we can discuss the application of such principles to your own… governance.”
The fire crackled as he leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes studying her with a new intensity.
“Very well,” he said, a challenge in his voice. “Let us see how well your philosophy holds up under scrutiny. I govern my castle well, and my subjects are happy.”
“I should determine their happiness, not you.”
His eyes flashed, and she smiled. She leaned back into the sofa, letting her fingers idly flip through the pages of her book. The Duke’s sharp gaze was fixed on her, and she felt his attention like the warmth of the fire. She tried to concentrate on the words but failed.
Looking up from the text, Audrey caught him still watching her. A playful smile curved her lips, and she cocked her head. “Do you find me beautiful, Duke?”
The question hung in the air. His frown deepened, and her stomach twisted as uncertainty crept in. She had meant it as a jest, a lighthearted question to break the silence, but his expression was unreadable.
His eyes lingered on her a moment longer before he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Why did you change?” he asked, his voice low and even.
Audrey blinked, caught off guard. “Change?”
“Yes.” He leaned back again, his dark eyes sharp. “When I first met you, you cared little for manners or propriety. You said what’s on your mind, with no regard for the consequences.”
Audrey laughed softly, brushing her fingers against the pages of her book. “That was three years ago. I was a girl back then.”
“And now you are a?—”
“A woman,” she supplied quickly.
“A princess,” he said drily.
Audrey straightened, lifting her chin. “A duchess,” she corrected politely, her voice soft but firm.
His lips quirked into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“Exactly my point,” he said, gesturing toward her. “The woman before me is not the girl I met. You have become… something else entirely.”
Her back stiffened, but she managed a calm reply. “One must uphold what is expected of them, Duke.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and she knew he had caught the subtle meaning behind her words. There was a flicker of understanding in his expression before he spoke again.
“Tell me, then. What is the nature of this scandal that has brought you here to seek my help? Why isn’t your father dealing with the gentleman in question? A duel would be the traditional course of action.”
Audrey sighed, closing the book in her lap as her thoughts turned to Lilianna. “It is not so simple,” she began. “My sister sent him letters, that is all. Someone intercepted them, and they found their way to the gossip sheets. Unsavory things were said about her—things no young lady should endure.”
His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened, the firelight accentuating the sharp angles of his face. “Who is the gentleman?”
“The Viscount Rashford,” she replied. “He is engaged, as you likely know.”
The Duke sat back, his gaze piercing. “His fiancée was betrothed to him at birth, much like our arrangement. Such contracts are difficult to break.”
Audrey’s chest tightened as she thought of her sister’s tearful letters. “I am not asking for the impossible. I want my sister to be happy. And I want her reputation restored before my father marries her off to… to someone wholly unsuitable.”
