“I’ll Marry the First Man Who Enters,” She Joked — Then the Duke Walked In
Chapter 5
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The offices of Sterling, Hales, and Sterling smelled intensely of old parchment, damp wool, and sealing wax. It was entirely unromantic; Bella appreciated that.She sat stiffly in a high-backed leather chair, staring at the stack of legal documents arranged perfectly on the mahogany desk. It had been 48 hours since Augustus Wallace walked into her ruined parlor; it had been 24 hours since Lord Henry Cavenaugh paid a visit to the Holloway townhouse.The memory of Cavenaugh's visit still made her skin crawl: he had cornered her in the hallway, his cologne smelling sharply of cloves and decay."Philip is out of time, Bella," Cavenaugh had murmured, trailing a gloved finger over the banister."But I am a reasonable man. There are other ways a sister might settle a brother's account: a private arrangement, a cottage in Mayfair. I would take very good care of you."She had slapped him hard enough to split his lip. Cavenaugh had touched a thin streak of blood on his teeth."Friday, Miss Holloway. The magistrates will have him by noon."She sent a messenger to Augustus's solicitor within the hour.Now she sat in the dim office, waiting. The door opened and Augustus walked in. He filled the room immediately, draining the air. He wore a dark suit today, tailored but still looking entirely unnatural on his frame. He nodded to Mr. Sterling, the solicitor, who scurried around the desk like a startled mouse.Augustus took the seat next to Bella. He didn't offer a greeting; he simply looked at her. "Are you certain?""I'm here," Bella said. Her voice was steady, though her hands were clamped together in her lap to hide their trembling."Mr. Sterling," Augustus said, not taking his eyes off her. "The debts?""Settled this morning, Your Grace," the solicitor squeaked, shuffling papers. "A draft for 2,000 pounds was delivered directly to Lord Cavenaugh's bankers. The promissory notes have been destroyed."Bella let out a breath she felt she had been holding for three years. The crushing weight on her chest eased, leaving behind a hollow, terrifying emptiness: she was free of the debt, and legally bound to a stranger."The marriage settlements," Sterling continued, pushing a thick vellum document forward. "As instructed: a settlement of 5,000 pounds a year directly to Miss Holloway's personal account, the dower house in Kent upon Your Grace's passing, and full management of the household accounts.""Sign it," Augustus said.Bella picked up the heavy brass pen. She dipped it in the inkwell. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, the nib hovering over the thick paper. She was selling herself, but she was getting a far better price than the marriage mart would have ever offered. She signed her name:Bella Holloway—bold and sharp.Augustus took the pen from her. His fingers brushed hers: his skin was rough, calloused like thick leather. He signed his name with violent, hasty strokes:Augustus Wallace."There," Augustus said, dropping the pen. "Done."They walked out of the office together onto the busy London street. Cabs clattered over the cobblestones; a vendor was shouting about hot pies. It was violently normal. Bella stood on the pavement, pulling her thin shawl tighter around her shoulders. The wind was biting.