Page 9 of Her Bear of a Duke
"Thank you, Father," she said politely, rising to her feet. "For explaining all of this to me, but also of course for making the arrangements that you have."
"It is for the best, Dorothy, even if you do not believe me yet."
She hoped he was right.
She waited in her bedchambers until her betrothed arrived. She tried not to think about what he would look like and how he would act, but it was impossible. She invented a hundred different men, and each time they changed in her mind's eye until they had black hair and green eyes. It brought her shame to think about the man again, but she wondered if seeing her future husband would help her move past her encounter. Not forget, as she did not want to do that, but at least be able to find happiness elsewhere.
When he arrived, she took a deep breath and checked herself in the mirror a final time. She approached the drawing room slowly, trying to steady herself before entering.
She took a breath, resigning herself to whatever fate awaited her, and entered the drawing room.
Her mother and father sat on one of the blue settees, sitting perfectly upright and perhaps a little too tightly wound. She could hear the hum of polite conversation, and though she could hear a very deep voice she did not take too much notice of it.
"Ah, here she is now," her mother said brightly. "Dorothy, dear, this is Morgan Lockheart, the Duke of Ulverston."
The Duke, her husband.
He rose from his seat, and she was taken aback by his stature, and how similar it was to the one she had seen before. Tall and muscular but not one that threatened her. Large arms that she wished would be used to protect her.
Then he turned to her, and all at once she realized just how great of a predicament she was in. His eyes were that same startlingly pale green, and his grin was mischievous.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet you," he bowed. "And do not call me by my formal name. In light of the circumstances it would be best if we drop such formalities."
Her parents would think that was because they were to be married, but Dorothy knew better than that.
This was the man that she had kissed, and the man she had thought about incessantly since then, and he was clearly not going to let her forget it.
CHAPTER 4
Morgan had always intended to attend the ball.
What was important to him, however, was that the Boltons did not know his intentions. He did not want them to be present the first time he saw the lady that he had promised to marry. Lady Dorothy did not deserve such a fate as being his wife, and so he wanted to ensure his beliefs were correct. He wished to be absolutely certain that he was saving her from her family, and one encounter with her was all he had needed to reach that point.
She did not enjoy life. She was but one-and-twenty, yet there was hardly any light in her eyes. She was not pleased to be at a ball and enjoying herself, she was resigned to it. It had saddened him.
The morning of his visit, he was breaking his fast with Catherine. He wondered, with how intelligent she was, just how she could possibly be his niece. His brother had certainly lacked that trait. Then again, with how particular she was and how insistent shewas about it, he had to admit that was a familial resemblance in that way. She scarcely ate, for example, unless the food contained chocolate in some way, which was an expensive diet but one he was more than willing to provide.
"Are you going to see her today?" she asked, toying with the fruit on her plate.
"My bride? Yes, I will be. Is that all right?"
"Of course. I have been waiting for you to. I need you to answer all of my questions about her."
"Do you have any that I might be able to ask for you?"
Catherine shuffled anxiously before looking at him.
"Does she want to have me sent away?"
Morgan's breath caught in his throat. His niece was a concern to him when it came to his marriage, but under no circumstances would he ever have sent her away. He had been worried about how Lady Dorothy would react to him caring for his niece, but their encounter the night before had proven to him that she was too gentle to say anything against having Catherine in the home.
"She does not," he promised.
"How could you know? You have never met her."
"No, but she is to be my wife, and your aunt. Do you truly think I would marry a lady that did not want you?"
The little girl smiled at that, satisfied. She was so pleased, in fact, that she began eating her fruit.
