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Hugh
After a terrible moment of heart-clenching anticipation, the door opened, and there stood the
woman Hugh hoped would one day carry his clutch. Astrid was as pretty as her picture.
Noontime sunlight sparkled in her hair and brightened the blues of her eyes. Her lips were
painted a pale pink that sweetened her smile and made it all the more inviting. She wore a
royal blue midi wrap dress that was tied beneath her bust. Its cut amplified the swell of her
breasts and the shape of her curves, and while they were quite lovely, there was nothing about
them that set Hugh alight. He’d imagined that there would be a spark, a pop,
a… something when he finally laid eyes on his mate-to-be, but all he felt was empty.
Something had to be wrong.
While he made a fool of himself gawking at the woman he’d invited into his home, Astrid bowed
her head and curtsied prettily. When she lifted her chin, she caught his eye. Wasn’t his heart
supposed to flutter? What was it Finch had said about no creature in the world rivaling her
beauty? For the life of him, Hugh couldn’t remember, but he did know that he was not deeply
and irrevocably in love.
“Hello, Mr. Drake,” Astrid said as she held his gaze. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for inviting
me.”
No, no, no. All of this was wrong. Panicked, Hugh took a hasty step back. There had to be a
way to fix this. The spark had to be there. It was just… hidden. Obfuscated by his anxiety. If
Disgraces really were dragons, that spark had to be in him somewhere. All he needed to do to
coax it out was stage his introduction to Astrid somewhere he felt more at ease. Once he did,
all the pieces would fall into place.
Determined to make this work, Hugh took a bold step forward and addressed the woman on
his doorstep. “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but could you step back a touch? Yes.
There you go. Perfect. Now, stay.”
That said, Hugh closed the door in her face.
“Francis!” Hugh cried in total desperation, fleeing from the door as if the plague were waiting
on the other side. “Francis, where are you? Ah! There you are.” Hugh discovered the butler
snoring in the sitting room’s most comfortable armchair. “Francis, you’re needed at the front
door!”
