“I’ll Marry the First Man Who Enters,” She Joked — Then the Duke Walked In
Chapter 10
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Augustus swore under his breath. He looked at Bella, a flicker of genuine irritation crossing his features. "The house has been neglected. My uncle only came here twice a decade to check the ledgers. I have spent the last six months dealing with the mines; the domestic side is lacking.""It requires management," Bella said. She released his arm and walked up the stone steps. She looked at the shivering staff: she didn't see ruin; she saw a ledger waiting to be balanced. She stopped in front of Miller. "You are the steward?"Miller blinked, taken aback by her sharp, aristocratic clip. "Aye, Your Grace. John Miller.""Mr. Miller, have the trunks brought to the main suite. Send two maids ahead to dust and light the fire. I want hot water brought up in 20 minutes. If the drawing room is drafty, find the source of the draft and block it. We will take tea in the study for now. Move."She didn't shout; she didn't sneer; she delivered the instructions with the bored, absolute authority of a woman raised to command a household, even a bankrupt one.The staff stared at her for a second. Then Miller nodded sharply. "Right away, Your Grace."The servants scattered like flushed birds.Bella walked through the heavy oak front doors. The entrance hall was cavernous, smelling of old wax and cold stone; stag heads stared down with glass eyes from the paneled walls. It was freezing.Augustus followed her inside. He closed the heavy doors, cutting off the howl of the wind; the sudden quiet was heavy."You give orders well," Augustus noted, pulling off his leather gloves."You hired a manager, Augustus," Bella said, unpinning her bonnet. She set it on a dusty side table, entirely unfazed by the gloom. "I intend to earn my keep."Augustus looked at the dust on the table, then at his new wife. The stark light from the narrow windows cast half her face in shadow: she did not look frightened by the isolation; she did not look disgusted by the dirt; she simply looked entirely, ruthlessly competent."The study is this way," he said.He led her down a dark corridor. The study was the only room in the house that felt lived in: a massive fire roared in the grate; books and ledgers were stacked haphazardly on the floor; a heavy oak desk dominated the space, covered in geological maps and brass instruments; it smelled of tobacco and ink.Bella walked straight to the fire, holding her hands out to the flames. The heat bit into her numb fingers. Augustus stood near the door, watching her.The marriage bargain had been struck; the vows had been said. Now, they were entirely alone: the logistical transaction was over; the physical reality of their arrangement loomed in the small space between them."I have business at the mine office," Augustus said abruptly, his voice rougher than usual. "I will be gone until dinner. Miller will show you the house. Do whatever you want to it; hire who you need. The accounts are in the top drawer of the desk."He was retreating. The massive, intimidating duke who had threatened to tear a man's arm off in London was currently fleeing his own study.