The Duke's Shotgun Wedding (Scandalous House of Calydon 1)

She surged to her feet with sudden restless energy. She stalked to the windows and stared down at the flowers dotted with fine flakes of snow, trying to find some comfort from the uncertainty that flooded through her. She did not turn as he draped his hands over her shoulders.

“Think, my dear. He did not marry you because you waved a derringer at him. We’re talking about the powerful Duke of Calydon, with direct familial connection to the prince regent. He is known to me, even here. If he hadn’t wanted to wed, he wouldn’t have done so.”

“But—”

He squeezed her shoulders. “I say I have failed you because of my unwise investments and choices. I am ashamed because you felt you had to lie and deceive in order to wed. You are only twenty-one. You could still have had a season. With your charm and beauty, you would have received many offers. My foolish ways denied you the opportunity every young girl of society should have.”

She twisted to face him. “No, Father. I have no regrets over something I have never experienced. There is more to life than balls and soirees, and I have attended many here in the country and in Devonshire.”

He gave a wan smile. “Hardly the same thing.”

She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. “As Duchess of Calydon—” She inhaled as the words resounded in her. She continued shakily, “As the duchess, I will have many opportunities to take London and the glittering throng by storm, as you would say. I did not start out my rash scheme to entrap the duke, but Lord Anthony. Never did I imagine that Anthony would already be married, nor that the duke would respond favorably to my impetuous demand.”

He gently brushed a stray lock of her hair that fell forward, and tucked it behind her ear. “But how could he resist such a catch?”

She gave a soft laugh. “I must admit that I, too, am at a loss as to why he wed me. I felt the entire time that he was the one in control and he was directing me toward his own agenda. But that could not be. We had never met until I entered his library.”

“Perhaps Lord Anthony spoke about you?”

“I doubt it. I now realize that the few weeks Anthony spent here in Lincolnshire was merely to gain perspective on Miss Peppiwell. There was a problem he often talked about, one that clouded his eyes with doubt. It must have been her.”

“Were you hurt by Lord Anthony’s defection?”

She considered. “No I am not. I had a grand time with him. He was witty and charming, and he danced beautifully. He did kiss me a few times, too, which was nice.”

“Jocelyn!”

She laughed at the indignation on his face. “I now know they were very chaste kisses, Papa. But I was not so much angry that he made promises then broke them, as I was in despair. Because I had hung all my hopes for my family on marrying him. Not because I loved him.”

“How do you know they were chaste kisses, Jocelyn?” The frost in his voice did not escape her. Heat blossomed in her cheeks, and she turned away.

Too late. He scowled as embarrassment swept through her. “Jocelyn?”

“Calydon— He kissed me. More than once.”

Her father’s jaw worked. “And you did not think they were chaste?”

She cleared her throat. “No, Father.”

Something swept through his gray eyes that she could not decipher. “Did he kiss you before or after the wedding?”

“Before and after.”

“Ah.”

She did not understand his soft chuckle. “What, Papa?”

“Did you enjoy his attentions, child?”

“Father!” Her eyes widened. She swallowed as he patiently waited for her response. “I— I have never felt anything like it. Not even while racing Wind Dancer or dancing a waltz. I burned, yet I felt so alive,” she whispered.

This time it was his eyes that widened, then he fussed with his tea cup. “You are deplorably honest, my dear. I pray you are not quite as guileless with the duke.” He straightened and met her eyes. “You will, however, make him an excellent duchess. Your mother, bless her heart, ensured that you possess all the social grace and polish to walk beside him. I have no doubts you will succeed brilliantly at your new station in life.”

Jocelyn smiled at her father. Thank goodness he did not condemn her for her actions. Her heart beat with enough trepidation already—that the duke would hold her in contempt after their wedding night. After all, if she had been seduced as she’d sworn, the matter of her virginity should not be a problem anymore. She wondered if he would be able to tell. She frowned thoughtfully. Could men tell? They must be able to. It would be foolhardy for the men of society to value a thing so greatly, and have no way of proving if the value is still intact. She could not ask her father, she was already mortified by discussing a simple kiss with him.

“I worry for you, my dear. I do not believe the duke is a man to trifle with. He has the power to crush you if you are not careful. His reputation may just be a rumor…it has been years since I’ve heard him spoken of, other than regarding his miraculous touch with investments.”

“What have you heard, father? Back when the scandal happened.” At his hesitation, she implored, “I return to him tonight. Please do not let me go in doubt.”

After the deepest of sighs, he answered, “Rumors circulated of a duel, of a mistress that he strangled with his bare hands, and of the duke himself being murdered. The fact that he is clearly still alive could well mean they were all just foul rumors.”

The room spun around her as a sick feeling roiled in her stomach. “Oh.”

“It is an uncertain future that you have bound yourself to, my child,” he said, his gaze filled with concern. “Just be careful.”

“I will.” She eased out the breath that had backed up in her lungs. “To know that Victoria, Emily, and Emma will all have seasons and dowries, that Stonehaven will be made solvent for William…” Her smile wobbled as her father tenderly cupped her cheeks with his hands.

“You take too much upon yourself.”

“Oh, Papa , to know that my little loves and you will now be safe and happy, that all makes it much more palatable to have married a man who may or may not have been involved in murder.” She gripped his hands so fiercely that her father laughed, pulled her close, and hugged her tightly.

“My sweet child.”

“What’s done is done. You mustn?

?t worry. I will not let rumors of the past affect me, and I will resolve to be as happy as I can be with my new husband.”

A sharp pang went through her heart. She could only hope the man she married would feel the same about her when he learned the truth.

Chapter Four

Snow crunched beneath Jocelyn’s boot heels as she alighted from the chaise.

Only a few lamps were lit in the courtyard, and they barely pierced the gray fog that blanketed the night. She almost stumbled at the line of servants that had assembled on the steps to greet her. The wind howled, and even through her winter coat, the cold bit at her bones. She shivered and pulled the cloak tighter, warding off the icy chill. She knew it was customary for the servants to be introduced to their new mistress, now the lady of the house, but she thought it unnecessary that they were lined up in the cold waiting for her.

Calydon appeared like a specter from the mist and stalked toward her. Images of a murdered mistress floated suddenly in her mind, and she tried to banish her dark thoughts. Without success.

A strange kind of dread gripped her, and she was barely aware when he introduced her to his staff as his new duchess. Her smile was wooden, and she went through the motions with a loud thundering in her head. It was only when she was swept through the massive hall that she realized it was her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“Have you dined?” Sebastian asked politely.

She jumped, betraying her nervousness. “I did, Your Grace.”

“Ah.”

She felt compelled to fill the silence that pressed on so ominously. “I am sorry I’m a bit late in arriving…home. I needed to spend some time with my family preparing them for my sudden absence. My sisters are quite attached to me, even though I must admit they vibrated with excitement over the happy circumstances.”

His only response was a grunt.

Her knees weakened as they started to climb the winding staircase. She glanced wildly behind her, but nary a servant was in sight. Did he mean to escort her straight to the bedding chamber? It was impossible to slow her racing heart. She was not sure what emotion filled her most at the thought of being ravished—dread or curiosity.