Page 12 of Unbound Duchess

“And we will further cement that bond with a marriage,” Benedict answered with a shrug of his shoulders. Nobles have married their cousins for centuries; it is not so big a scandal as you make it sound.”

“It is to me,” she insisted, feeling that now-familiar pain twist in her gut. “Benedict,” she pleaded, daring a step toward his desk. “I do not want to marry you. I love you, yes, but not in the way a wife loves a husband.”

His gaze hardened as he stood up and came around his desk to face her.

“You will. In time. You just have to become used to the subtle shift,” he replied, his voice less pitiful than before.

“No, I will not! The very idea makes me…unwell. I—Ahh!” Her words cut off with a sharp gasp as Benedict gripped her chin with a painful quickness.

“Do not say that. Ever again,” he warned, his cold blue eyes boring into hers. She tried to wrench away, but his grip only tightened. “Do you hear me? This marriage is happening. You have no choice.”

“Benedict, let go,” she cried, trying and failing once more to break free from his grip. “You are hurting me!”

“For your own good,” he spat. “You must learn to obey me.”

“Benedict, please!” she sobbed, her jaw beginning to throb under his grip.

“Say it,” he snarled softly, bringing his lips dangerously close to hers. “Say you will obey.”

“I will,” she sobbed, tears escaping down her cheeks. “I will. Just let me go. Please.”

A mad smile broke across Benedict’s lips as he heard her pleas, and just as quickly as he had snatched her jaw, he released it.

“There’s a good girl,” Benedict praised, turning his back to her as she cupped her hands over her pained jaw and chin. “Now run along. I have scheduled an appointment for you at the bridal modiste. I would not want you to miss it. Your friend Judith is going to meet you there.”

A tremble of panic moved through Ellen’s spine.

“Judith?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Benedict moved, his gaze back on his papers, “I opened a message from her by accident this morning, thinking it was one for me. She expressed her deep hurt for not being invited to our engagement dinner last night. I wrote back and took full blame, letting her know it was I who organized the event. As an apology, I offered to purchase her a pretty dress for our wedding. Her response was rather quick, and she seemed very forgiving.”

“You…you opened my letter?” she asked. “Spoke to my friend?”

Benedict looked up at her, that cold blue seeping into her veins.

“Your friends are our friends now, are they not?” he asked with a raised brow.

When Ellen did not respond, he set down his pen and folded his hands together as he leaned forward and held her gaze.

“As for the opening of ‘your’ letter,” he stated matter of factly, “I am the Lord of this house now and, by extension, you. You might not be my wife yet, but until that time you are my ward. Anything that comes into this house is subject to my approval.”

Trapped. She was trapped, she realized, by the man she’d once called a friend. A man that was once, not all that long ago, so very kind and courteous when he would come to visit. She was not sure what had changed him. Not sure if he had changed or if his true self had been hidden from view until now. Whatever had happened, Ellen had lost her faith—and her love—for her cousin, and she knew, with absolutely certainty, that she needed to escape him.

“Well of course I was positively offended,” Judith said as she and Ellen wandered through the rows of white laces, ribbons, and fabrics. “After all I have done for you and then to not receive an invitation to the only party—your engagement party of all things—you have hosted in years? Well, I was positively taken aback by your actions! After all, I am your friend, and I find this out through the morning gossip papers?”

Ellen’s fear deepened as Judith clicked her tongue in distaste and shot her a scolding look.

“But then I received your cousin’s letter and he explained the entire mishap,” she went on, her voice lilting toward amusement as she turned back to the wares. “He was so gentlemanly with his apology, and obviously so sincerely sorry about overlooking me that I, of course, had to forgive him! And you, of course.”

“Judith,” Ellen said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Such a generous gentleman, this cousin of yours,” Judith prattled on, “Paying for a shopping day for you and your friend? And a romantic, too! I shall tell you, the letter he sent me positively reeks of a lovestruck man! And here I thought that you were going to be a spinster all your life. I suppose it is good you ran away from the masquerade after all. Though I did not appreciate how you left me worrying for you.”

“I am sorry,” she breathed, her cheeks turning pink as she once more thought of the man she’d kissed. A man she would forever keep a secret, even from Judith. She needed something. Just one little, bright moment of freedom to hold onto.

“Good day, ladies!”

The modiste’s greeting was bubbly and warm as she seemingly popped up out of nowhere among the shelves of white.