She scowled. “You really don’t know? Word has spread through the village. Soon, they’ll all know how the mysterious and strange Iron Duke has been found sleeping under the same roof as the Redcliff lady. The one with a ruined father and no dowry.”
Her aunt had offered to set aside some funds, but Verity could not accept that either. Her aunt’s money came from her late husband, and she needed it for her own comfort.
“I never meant?—”
Verity shook her head. “No, you never meant to, I’m sure. It just… happened. Are all lords as thoughtless as you?”
She watched as his face hardened, and then a line appeared in his brow. It was rather odd, she thought.
Her fingers itched to smooth out the strange wrinkle, but more lines appeared as the Duke scowled at her.
“This cannot be undone,” he said at last.
“Exactly,” Verity huffed, trying to gather her thoughts. “You should never have come here. If?—”
“I should have taken greater care. Now, there is only one thing to do.”
“Exactly, Your Grace. I… Well, you…”
Her breath caught as she realized she’d gotten ahead of herself. Having stormed over here, she had intended to scold him most thoroughly. But now he had accepted his mistake. Admitted to it. He even wanted to make amends, which she had not considered.
And in a situation such as this one, there was only one way to make amends.
Taking a step back, Verity narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you dare say what I think you intend to ask me.”
“We can marry within the week.”
He didn’t even ask properly. How can he think I will agree? Blast it, Aunt Eugenia always tells me to be more patient.
“No.”
He frowned. “Do you have another solution?”
“Well, no.” She winced at the awkwardness.
The Duke gave her a stern look. “My Lady?—”
“I didn’t?—”
“You will be ruined.” His words were mild for all that they cut deep into her soul. She took another step back while he moved forward. “The village will turn its back on you. Your tenants may leave or refuse to talk with you. To offer handshakes. There will be no traveling. No opportunities. No future.”
“Why would you say that?” Verity said shakily, putting a hand on her stomach. She must have eaten something awful that morning.
“Ruined, My Lady. There is no salvaging this situation and your reputation unless we marry. Already your name hangs by a thread,” he pointed out.
Gritting her teeth, she muttered, “Don’t you think I know this?”
“Then allow me to make amends.”
A wave of nausea hit her. “So you might ease your conscience?”
“It’s my mistake. My responsibility. You are my responsibility, My Lady, for I stayed under your roof and have compromised you. Daniel Holcome’s untimely arrival could not have helped matters. This is my fault, and I accept it, as you must accept me.”
I remember my dreams of marriage. Of a happy union. Of hosting successful supper parties and dancing and being courted. Of a beau bringing me flowers. Or a husband reading to me. But the Iron Duke would give me nothing I desire.
When she said nothing, the Duke cleared his throat. “I’m not offering romance, nor am I asking for it. There is little of me to give. But I can provide protection. Stability. Perhaps even peace.”
She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry.
