Betrothed to the wrong gentleman: Historical Fiction

CHAPTER 25

‘Please---I would like to talk to him,’ Madison appealed to Carlton, as her eyes followed Chadwick slipping away from her presence and possibly her life.  Carlton looked at the striking lady sympathetically.   Sadly she was not the first to lose her heart to the debonair and rather strapping duke.  He had seen the dozens of females both of polite society and others who had attempted to attain the impossible with the elusive, relationship shy duke. What silently bemused Carlton was the duke’s unconventional dismissal of this charming lady.  Carlton had always witnessed the duke at pains to be ever so polite to everybody.  Friends and foe alike received the same cordial reception.  None knew his true feelings.  Even the ladies, who persistently clamoured for his attention, after his interest had waned, were treated with the utmost tolerance.  Carlton wondered now at the duke’s rare display of emotion.  Could it be because he had just heard of his father’s passing?  Or perhaps finally one has captured the heart of His Grace, Addinell Chadwick Busquent d’Angers, the ninth Duke of d’Angerville.

‘You may try, my lady,’ Carlton smiled sympathetically. 

Madison rushed up the stairs in a manner so undignified of a polite lady it would make her mother gasp in horror.  Whatever would her mother say if she knew her supposed to be respectable daughter was running unchaperoned to a gentleman’s chamber, even if that gentleman was a duke?

Madison pushed the door opened and found Chadwick with his back to the door looking out the window.  Had she noticed previously how broad his sturdy shoulders were?  Or how they tapered into a breathtaking V down his pelvic girdle?  He must have sensed her presence for he swung around, an angry scowl on his face, dark eyes narrowed like fiery darts ready to spear her.

‘You should not be up here Lady Madison,’ he flung at her.

‘Chadwick,’ she rushed to him.  ‘I want to marry you,’ she gripped his wrists.

 ‘It is not me you want to marry!’ he shoved her away.  ‘I am certain it is the title that impresses you.’

‘I have ended my betrothal to Earl Swain,’ she reached for him, trying to convince him.

‘Sure, now that you set your sights on being a duchess!’ he spat.    ‘Do not bank on the title my Lady Madison.  I do not intent to claim it.  I have no need of it.’

‘You do not want it!  Surely you have no choice?’ she questioned.

Do  I not?  My father disowned me three years ago. 

‘It can lay buried with the eighth Duke,’ Chadwick hissed.  ‘Actually, you and he have a lot in common,’ a cruel smile flashed across his face.  It made Madison feel cold to her bones.  ‘Prestige meant a lot to my father.' He looked at her disgustedly.  Clearly he had had issues with his father, but what has that to do with him and her? 

‘I love you,’ her eyes filled with moisture.

‘Strange how you will risk social censure today,’ he mocked.  ‘You presume the ton will be forgiving if you discard an earl for a duke?’ 

‘I do not care about your title,’ tears rushed down her cheeks.

 ‘Spin me another yarn my lady,’ he laughed cruelly.  ‘Might I remind you,’ he dragged out painfully, ‘when I lay in your arms, how you rejected my offer?   I was not worthy enough when you thought I was a commoner,’ he spat. 

‘Chad---your grace, I did not know of your title when I walked in this morning---‘

‘Leave,’ he shoved her away in disgust.  ‘I need to go and bury my father.’