Chapter Six

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 Rebekah knew Lucrezia had to be telling the truth about her brother's marriage plans. She had wondered if there was a woman; he was a widower, she knew, but that didn't mean there was no woman. The man had indeed seemed frustrated with something, though she had no idea what it was. Now she knew. Besides, what reason would Lucrezia have to lie?

 What was this other woman like? Was she beautiful? Was she wealthy? If she were beautiful and wealthy, it would be a perfect deal, no doubt, but even if the girl wasn't beautiful, the husband would still get her money. But he was already the Duke of Ferrara, so he had to have some wealth of his own that he didn't have to go find himself a wife with an enormous dowry.

 Or perhaps he just wanted to marry again so he could have children. He was a widower with no children at all, and he surely needed a son to take his title. That must have been it. The duke seemed genuinely enchanted by Rebekah, but he needed a wife to give him what she couldn't; children.

 Rebekah didn't know why she was upset as she was. She hadn't known the duke for long, so why should she be jealous that he had been planning to remarry before he had even met her? But still, whoever the young woman was, she was jealous. That woman would be able to give her husband the heirs he needed, something Rebekah herself could never do.

 Deep down, Rebekah knew it was not a good idea to confront the duke about this, but she resolved to speak with him, anyway. She had flirted with him and never pushed away any advances he made, and he had been planning to marry another all the while. That made her angry.

 She was brought to his rooms, where she found scribbling furiously, apparently very intent on writing a letter to someone.

 "I do hope no one has angered you," she said to make her presence known.

 The duke looked up, apparently surprised to see her. "Ah, Rebekah. I was not expecting to see you again tonight."

 "Neither was I. But this is a very important matter. May I sit?"

 "Of course. What brings you to see me, Rebekah?"

 "It is about your marriage plans," she said, making 'marriage plans' sound rather vicious. "Since I first arrived here, you have made many advances toward me, ones I never discouraged. I thought perhaps you were becoming fond of me as I have of you. But it seem you are planning to marry another woman without ever telling me so."

 He sighed. "Rebekah-"

 "No, do not try to make any excuses. I know you are arranging a second marriage for yourself, Your Grace, and if I had known you had such plans, I would never have welcomed your advances. Do you want to new wife to come here to find you already have another woman in your bed? I doubt it would be pleasant for you."

 "Rebekah, please listen," the duke said with a sigh. "The marriage negotiations have not been going well at all. That is why I was rather angry while writing. I do think I will go through with them after all. That girl will surely find a more suitable husband."

 "You will not go through with them at all?" she asked.

 He shook his head. "No. Will you come with me, Rebekah?"

 He stood and held out his hand. She took it hesitantly, and let him lead her down the hall.

 "Here we are," he said. They stopped. "Do you see that woman?"

 Rebekah looked up to see a portrait of a beautiful woman. She was standing by a window, dressed in a white gown, her expression that of a woman who is only pretending to be content with her situation in life.

 "Who is she?" Rebekah asked.

 "That was Francesca, my last duchess. She was quite beautiful, wasn't she? But there was always a sorrow about her, one I never understood. She was never truly happy."

 "What happened to her?"

 "She died in her sleep. I do not know how, but...it was suspected that she poisoned herself. Very few people know of it, however. I did not want people saying such terrible things about her. But, ah," he waved his hand, "That was then, poor woman. I must look to the future. I do hope, Rebekah, that we may still be close with each other. Perhaps...someday...you could even be my next duchess."

 Rebekah stared at him. If he would suggest that she could be his wife someday, he had to feel something for her.

 "Yes," she said softly. "Of course we can."

 The vampire and the duke kissed there, under the sorrowful eyes of the last duchess.

Murderous Suitor | Rebekah MikaelsonWhere stories live. Discover now