“I’ll Marry the First Man Who Enters,” She Joked — Then the Duke Walked In
Chapter 6
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"What happens now?" she asked."Now we announce it," Augustus said. He looked down at her; for the first time, she noticed the deep exhaustion etched into the corners of his eyes. "Lady Danbury is hosting a dinner tomorrow night. We will attend together."Bella felt a spike of panic. "The ton will tear us apart. They think it's a joke; they think you are punishing me.""Let them think what they want," Augustus said, his jaw tightening. "They are cowards. They whisper behind fans because they haven't the spine to speak clearly. You are going to be my Duchess. They will bow to you, or I will break their damn necks."The casual violence in his tone was shocking, but oddly, it did not frighten her: it felt like a shield.Augustus looked at her hands; she was rubbing her bare knuckles to ward off the cold. Without a word, he unbuttoned his heavy wool coat, slipped it off, and draped it over her shoulders. The coat was massive, heavy as a weighted blanket, and still retained the intense, radiating heat of his body. It smelled of saddle soap and clean earth."You're shaking," he noted, his voice dropping slightly, losing some of its gravel."It's just the wind," Bella lied."Go home, Bella. Buy a new dress for tomorrow. Buy ten. Send the bills to me."He turned to hail a passing hackney cab. Bella pulled the heavy wool coat closer around her throat."Augustus," she called out.He stopped, glancing over his broad shoulder."Thank you," she said simply. Not for the money, not for the title, but for the coat.Augustus stared at her for a long moment. He gave a single, curt nod. "Tomorrow at 8:00, Miss Holloway."He stepped into the street, disappearing into the chaotic rhythm of the city, leaving Bella standing on the pavement, entirely warm for the first time in years.The carriage ride to Lady Danbury's townhouse was silent. Bella sat on the velvet squabs, her hands folded over the dark emerald silk of her new gown. It was not a dress meant for a blushing bride-to-be; it was armor: high-necked, impeccably tailored, and entirely devoid of the lace and ribbons favored by the season's debutantes. She looked severe; she looked expensive.Augustus sat opposite her, taking up far too much space in the enclosed cabin. He wore stark black, his cravat tied with brutal efficiency rather than elegance. He stared out the window at the passing gas lamps; he hadn't spoken since he handed her into the carriage."You are crushing your fan," he observed quietly.Bella looked down: the ivory sticks of her fan were bowing under the pressure of her grip. She forced her fingers to loosen. "I am preparing for battle, Your Grace. The ton does not like to be made fools of, and our engagement makes them look very foolish indeed.""They are fools," Augustus said, turning his head to look at her. The dim carriage light caught the rough angle of his broken nose. "You give them too much power, Bella."