Deborah left the front hall without another word, leaving her mother to stand there in shocked silence. She would feel guilty about this later, she knew. For now, though, all she felt was rage.
“Fif…” Frances gasped.
Deborah looked from her mother to her Uncle Archibald, then to Cedric. While Frances and Uncle Archibald looked as if they could be knocked over by a feather, Cedric appeared as bored as ever as he waited for their response.
“Fifty thousand pounds,” Uncle Archibald rasped, finishing the words Frances had failed to say.
“Correct,” Cedric agreed, shrugging his shoulders. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and tapped the desk he was leaning on. “I have a banker’s note for such an amount here, as well as the special license required for Miss Hunt and me to expedite our wedding. Today is Sunday. We will be married on Wednesday. Itwill be held at nine a.m. at my London estate. I suppose we may take time to enjoy a wedding breakfast, but then Miss Hunt and I will be heading back to my house in Calder post haste.”
“But…but that is so little time to prepare,” Frances said, still obviously shocked.
Again, Cedric gave a bored shrug.
“I enjoy watching dramas, Lady Hunt, but I do not prefer to participate in them. Thus, our wedding will be anything but a spectacle. Friends and family only. No bridal showers or stag parties. Just a wedding.”
Frances turned to Deborah, who had been watching the meeting unfold by the door.
“Is…are you sure this is what you want?” Frances asked her.
Deborah pressed her lips together, torn for a moment between truth and necessity.
“Yes,” she said softly, ignoring the way her heart quivered as she spoke.
“So,” Cedric huffed, pushing himself away from the desk. “She says yes, I say yes. All you two have to do is say yes, and we are done with this whole ordeal. What say you? Shall you allow your daughter to become the Duchess of Calder or not?”
A ripple of shock moved through Deborah. She had known, obviously, that Cedric was a Duke, but it was only then that she realized that she would be hisDuchess.The title would give her access to so much social power. Power, perhaps, she could use to ruin Sylvester. Suddenly, she was much more interested in the marriage than before.
“Say yes, Mama,” Deborah encouraged, walking toward them. “This is what you wanted for me, did you not? A marriage to a high-ranking noble in good financial standing? A noble who does not care about our past troubles? Well, here he is.”
“A noble that is also willing to contribute an easement to your troubles,” Cedric added, then picked up the banker’s note and waved it around.
“This house is…lovely,”Cedric mused, his brow raised as he inspected the small room, “But I know it is not what you are used to. You can stop renting your estate in the center of Mayfair to those French nobles now. You can move out of the outskirts and back into the center of it all with your heads held high. Would that not be pleasant for all of you? For young Grace? Her time on the marriage mart is coming soon, I believe. Would you not want her to have better chances?”
“Enough,” Deborah snapped. All gazes shot to her, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She should not have been surprised that Cedric knew those things, but to use such facts to drive his point home seemed most cruel.
“I mean, forgive me, Your Grace,” she willed herself to say as she gave him a stiff curtsey, “However, I am sure my mother and uncle are well aware of what good could come from this match.”
She raised her eyes and found him giving her a wry look as his lips curved into a smirk. Slowly, he turned his head toward Frances and Uncle Archibald.
“My potential betrothed is right,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “I was overzealous with my words. Do forgive me, I implore you, and allow me to marry this young lady who is able to keep me so in check.”
His smirk turned into a rather convincing grin, prompting Deborah to raise an amused brow.
“So lovely,” he sighed dramatically, and Deborah narrowly avoided rolling her eyes. For a man who claimed not to want to be part of the drama, he was very good at playing in it.
“So, what say you, Lady Hunt and Viscount Fernfield? Give everyone in this house a bright future, including yourselves? Or wallow in your…present situation?” Cedric asked, turning his attention to them.
Deborah studied her mother’s face. Studied her uncle’s as well. Neither looked convinced.
“For me,” she said softly, her nails biting into her arms as she mustered the last word.“Please.”
Frances’ eyes shone with tears as she looked to her daughter, then let out a shuddering breath.
“Your Grace,” she said, her voice trembling with residual doubt, “You may marry my daughter.”
CHAPTER SIX
“So the infamous bachelor is finally getting married.”