“I’ll Marry the First Man Who Enters,” She Joked — Then the Duke Walked In
Chapter 12
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A soot-covered foreman tried to block her path near the sorting sheds, waving his hands frantically. "Here, now! No ladies past the gates! It ain't safe!"Bella looked down at him from the saddle. "I am the Duchess of Westford. Point me to my husband."The foreman swallowed his objections and pointed a shaky finger toward the massive brick structure housing the main shaft. She dismounted, tying her horse to a post, and walked into the deafening roar of the pumphouse.The heat was immediate and suffocating; steam hissed from iron pipes thick as winter fog. Through the haze, she saw him: Augustus had stripped off his coat and waistcoat; his linen shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, plastered to his skin with sweat and black dust; he was standing over a massive schematic spread across a wooden crate, arguing violently with two engineers. He did not look like a duke; he looked like a warlord."I told you to reinforce the eastern tunnel on Tuesday!" Augustus roared over the sound of the pumps. "The timber is rotting! If that seam gives, I'll bury you both before the rock does! Get the new beams down there by noon, or don't bother coming to work tomorrow!"The engineers scrambled away, looking terrified.Augustus turned, wiping a streak of black grease across his forehead with the back of his massive hand. He froze when he saw her.Bella stood amid the hissing steam, perfectly composed, the hem of her dark wool skirt already thick with coal dust. He closed the distance between them in four long strides, grabbing her by the elbow and hauling her out of the pumphouse into the slightly clearer air of the yard."What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. His voice was rougher than she had ever heard it, stripped of whatever thin veneer of civility he usually maintained."Managing my estate," Bella replied smoothly, pulling her arm from his grip. "I have balanced the household accounts. I needed to see where the money comes from.""It comes from dirt, Bella! From the dark! It is not a place for you!""I am not a porcelain doll," she snapped, a sudden spike of anger cutting through her rigid control. "You married me because I am practical. You married me to be a partner. How can I be your partner if you hide me away in that stone fortress while you work yourself into an early grave down here?"Augustus stared at her. The anger in his dark eyes shifted, settling into something heavier. He looked at her immaculate posture, her sharp jawline, and the smudge of soot that had already landed on her cheek."You want to see where the money comes from?" he asked softly."Yes."He didn't argue; he turned and walked toward the main shaft. Bella followed.They stood at the edge of the pit. A massive iron cage hung suspended over a hole that plunged into absolute, terrifying darkness; the smell of rotten eggs and damp earth billowed up from the abyss.