“And isn’t that the same thing?”
“Not always. My father certainly didn’t protect my mother.”
The Duke narrowed his eyes at her. “I am not your father.”
“But you are known for your ruthlessness.” She jutted her chin defiantly. “Or are the scandal sheets not to be believed?”
For a long moment, the Duke didn’t answer, but a fire blazed in his eyes, and she wondered if she had angered him.
However, when he spoke, his tone was calm and measured. “I am exacting in my business dealings, yes, but my exacting standards stem from a desire to protect my workers and tenants. If that means a few lords make less profit than they anticipated, then so be it. My loyalty is to the men who work for me, and I protect them at all costs. Anyway…” He shot her a cold look. “Isn’t that why you came to me in the first place? Because of my ruthlessness? Or… how did you put it? My unrelenting nature?”
Violet flushed. “I—” she began, but she was at a loss for words.
Yes, I wanted your help because you are ruthless, but I don’t want to marry a ruthless man, she wanted to say. But how could she?
The Duke seemed to notice her confusion because he stood up and went to the sideboard, where he poured an amber liquid into two snifters.
“Have a drink,” he said, handing a glass to her before returning to his seat. “A man and a woman should always have some alcohol in them when they are discussing business.”
Violet took a tentative sip. It was warm and delicious, and it revived her almost instantly. When she looked back at him, she arched an eyebrow.
“I am at least relieved you are not someone who mistakes marriage for anything less than a business transaction.”
“Of course not,” the Duke said, waving his hand dismissively. “Perhaps for the middle class, it is a more sentimental endeavor, but for people of our class… it is a business transaction.”
“And what do we have to offer one another, specifically?”
“Well,” he began thoughtfully, “you need a wealthy, titled, powerful man who can keep you, your sister, and your mother safe. And I happen to need a wife.”
“Why?” Violet asked, leaning forward. “What need do you have for a wife?”
The Duke smiled slightly, but the look in his eyes remained distant. “Let me worry about that. Suffice it to say that marriage will ensure I can finally finish the work that is most important to me.”
“Producing heirs?” Violet guessed.
“Cleaning up the duchy.”
“I don’t understand.” She frowned.
“Nor do you need to. What you do need to know is that I am offering you a solution better than the one you proposed. If you run away to your aunt’s, your father will surely find you. And then you will be four women, including two elderly, against one of the most dangerous men I’ve ever met—and believe me, I have met quite a few. If that is the path you choose, then I will help you, and you, your sister, and your mother will be in a carriage on the way to Scotland tomorrow.”
His eyes blazed, and Violet felt her heart clench in anticipation.
“But if you choose to marry me, then I can guarantee that your father will never harm you again. He doesn’t frighten me, and I have every power at my disposal to ensure that he cannot get near you.”
Violet’s mouth had gone very dry, and she had to swallow several times to wet her throat. “Why me?” she asked, at last. “If you will not tell me why you need a wife, then at least tell me why me. You are a duke—you can marry any woman you want.”
“That is true,” the Duke conceded. “But I had no intention of marrying, until very recently, and I do not desire a love match. Nor do I relish the idea of dashing the dreams of a young lady intent on marrying for love. I would rather wed a woman for whom it would also be beneficial—to have a partnership built on mutual interest.” A smile curved his lips. “A woman like yourself. Someone who needs a husband and doesn’t waste her time talking about love.”
“You certainly know how to woo a woman,” Violet scoffed, rolling her eyes.
The Duke smiled. “I admit, I do not know you well, Miss Violet, but I don’t think you are like your sister, who never misses a moment to declare her love for the Duke of Eavestone. You are more practical. You are willing to do what it takes to save your family.”
Violet clenched her jaw. He was right—she was practical. It had never occurred to her that she would have a love match. But she didn’t like how the Duke presumed to know her so well.
“So what do you say?” he asked, his voice like black velvet. “Shall we shock the ton and marry?”
Violet considered it.
