Page 4 of If the Duke Dares
“That is not an option,” the baron clipped out. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his long nose, pinching it as if he smelled something awful. “I wrote to the Duke of Wolverton and confirmed what, Bane—Banemore—said, that he is already betrothed and will not break that contract because of a foolish encounter with your sister.”
Wolverton was Bane’s father, and apparently, he would dictate what happened, which was maddening. Dukes and their heirs shouldn’t be immune to consequences. But this was what rogues did.
The baroness smoothed her pale hands over her skirts. “I wrote to the Dowager Duchess of Wellesbourne immediately as her most recent letter said that her son is in need of a wife, and he dislikes the Marriage Mart. I explained that my lovely eldest daughter also prefers to avoid the Marriage Mart.” She leveled her gaze on Persephone. “She has invited us to come to their home, Loxley Court near Stratford-upon-Avon, to see if you and he will suit.”
Persephone hadn’t minded the Marriage Mart, just the unrealistic expectations that went along with it. She’d never fit into them, either talking about topics that were deemed uninteresting to gentlemen or saying nothing at all. “You expect me to marry a man I’ve never met?”
“Youwillmeet him,” the baroness said. “And then you will wed.” She sounded confident, which was laughable given her insistence that Persephone was incapable of snaring a husband. Now she was suddenly going to catch a duke?
Not bothering to disguise her sarcasm, Persephone said, “It seems to me you’re placing a great deal of confidence in a situation in which you have until now deemed my attributes inadequate.”
Her mother lifted a shoulder. “While it’s true you aren’t the beauty that Pandora is, you at least possess more sense.”
How Persephone hated the comparisons their parents—especially their mother—made between her and her sister. Although, they weren’t wrong about Pandora being far prettier on her worst day than Persephone could ever hope to be on her best. Her lips were fuller, her hair thicker and shinier, her eyes more sparkling. Even her laugh was superior. She always sounded as though she were making music, and she looked lovely doing it. Persephone, on the other hand, was prone to snorting. Or even outright guffawing. Because of that, she tried very hard not to laugh. Except when she was with her sister or their friends.
The baroness went on, “I don’t expect you’ll be caught in a scandalous embrace with Wellesbourne. Not unless it becomes necessary to secure the match.”
Did her mother expect Persephone to do precisely what Pandora had done in order to ensure a marriage? “Given that Pandora is not currently betrothed, I would say your logic is lacking, Mother.”
“This is not the same situation,” the baroness said crossly. “The dowager is my friend, and if her son compromises you, therewillbe a wedding.”
Persephone barely kept her jaw from dropping. How awful that her mother was counting on the benefits of her friendship with this woman while also considering trickery to obtain what she wanted. For the first time, Persephone felt an overwhelming dislike for the woman sitting across from her, and it was a horrible sensation. She’d felt inklings of it for years, but she’d always tried to find the good in her, the ways in which her mother truly seemed to want the best for her. But this time, the baroness had gone too far, and Persephone wasn’t sure she could think of her mother as anything but an adversary ever again.
“Don’t look so horrified, Persephone,” her mother admonished. “This is a boon for you. To think thatyouwill marry a duke is astonishing.”
Persephone wondered how else this might benefit her parents, beyond soothing the scandal Pandora had caused. They’d long commented on how Pandora would undoubtedly secure a match that would ensure they never worried about finances again. “I imagine his fortune is also attractive.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” her father asked defensively.
Persephone didn’t want to point out the paintings, decorative pieces, or furniture that had gone missing the last few years, or the fact that the constant stream of stylish clothing—primarily for her parents and certainly not for Persephone—had slowed this year particularly. It didn’t take a scholar to understand that her father was in debt. He and the baroness had argued for years about finances. Persephone had concluded that her father was not adept at managing Radstock Hall.
Answering her father’s question, Persephone dared to say, “It means I suspect you want this marriage for more than just social redemption.”
“Advancing the family’s prospects is a young lady’s responsibility,” her mother snapped. “Since Pandora can no longer provide that, you will need to do so.” The baroness fixed her with a dark, direct stare. “Whatever it takes.”
“I won’t trick him,” Persephone said in a low voice, her brain scrambling to come up with a plan to avoid this scheme.
Her father made a sound in his throat. “You won’t need to, my dear. Your mother is right. You are more sensible than your sister, and I imagine a duke who dislikes the Marriage Mart will prefer someone older and more sedate.” He pinned his gaze on Persephone and smiled faintly. “Like you.”
Older and more sedate. A prize catch indeed.
Persephone’s mother nodded. “That’s precisely why Wellesbourne will endorse this match.”
The idea of marrying one of Bane’s sordid friends was completely odious. “There has to be someone else who will meet your requirements for this immediate marriage,” Persephone said, though she could see her mother was set on this plan.
“Why look elsewhere when you can have a duke?” Her mother sounded exasperated. “Really, Persephone, I thought you would be more excited about this. Who could have thought you would have this opportunity?”
Who indeed.
Persephone felt as though the walls were closing in around her. She tried to recall what Wellesbourne looked like. He had auburn hair and an easy smile, and she supposed he was objectively handsome. “Just because he’s a duke doesn’t mean he’ll make an excellent husband. He has a reputation as a rake and is a friend of Bane’s. Think of Pandora. I would rather not consider him.”
“He could be whatever he wants and friends with whomever he chooses, and you will manage to accept him. You will be aduchess.” Her mother’s enthusiasm wasn’t surprising. She’d married above her station when she’d become a baroness. However, Persephone’s father’s title wasn’t prestigious, and his fortune was lacking. And now that Pandora wasn’t able to carry them up the social ladder, that duty had fallen to Persephone, the spinster-in-waiting.
“Only if he accepts me, which I find hard to believe.” A duke would want someone loftier than Persephone, even if she were staggeringly beautiful and possessed an excess of charm.
The baroness made an inelegant sound. “We are out of options, Persephone. Your sister’s ruin could be the ruin of us all. Is that what you want? I expect you to do whatever it takes to ensure this match is successful. If you can’t do that, then perhaps you shouldn’t be a member of this household. It’s not as if we hadn’t already planned to send you somewhere after Pandora was settled.” Her mother sniffed. “But all those plans are ruined now. This is a magnificent opportunity for you. I know you’ll come to see it that way.”
Persephone swallowed the emotion rising in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. It was already bad enough that her cheeks felt hot. They were likely ablaze with color. The message from her mother was painfully clear: she either married this abhorrent duke or she would be sent into spinsterhood. Which had apparently been the plan all along.
