The Devil Duke Takes a Bride

 An Unfortunate Turn of Events

Cough, cough, cough
. “So, you see
,
my boy, there isn’t another option. I am at the end of my life and in need of this final boon in order to pass into the land of our ancestors.”

Benedict Devlyn
,
Duke of Banbury
,
was determined not to roll his eyes as he squinted at his more-than-healthy
a
unt.
“Forgive me, but I highly doubt the sniffles will be the death of you. Unless you have some other sort of illness that has you spouting off nonsensical death wishes. Oh wait, yes, did your dog bite you? And it’s become infected? Yes, must be it
.
T
hat’s why you’re dying, certainly not from sitting too near Lady Renwick when she was ill last week.”

“Impetuous man, look at me!”

He
was
looking at her. And all he saw was a woman at the prime old age of
one and
seven
ty
, with the uncanny ability to hug a man so tightly he nearly lost his countenance. Well, that and
he had
the sneaking suspicion that for one reason or another, she was lying through her teeth. For his aunt
,
of all people
,
to summon him wasn’t normal. Nor was answering her every beck and call something he made a habit of
doing
.

For one thing, it was common knowledge that she was slightly mad, and the other complication was that he and his aunt hadn’t been on speaking terms since last season when he decided he would
not
take her dog to Almacks
— t
o her great
disappointment.
S
he’d been feigning death ever since.

Her coughing brought him back to the present. Peculiar that it was now changing to a more drastic coughing fit than before. “Is that all then? You wish for me to go find a girl and be done with this whole
D
evil
D
uke business?”

“Before I die!” Aunt Agatha interrupted
,
thrusting her hand into the air. “You are a stain upon the family name.”

The witch didn’t mince words, did she?

“I see,” he said, though truthfully he didn’t see. After all, his reputation had been legendary. Every young buck wanted to be him
,
and every high
-
stepping mama who threw
her
debutante his way was given ruin and disaster
in return
. After ten years of his
infamous
exploits, women not only gave him the cut direct, but he had it on good authority they now placed his name next to
devil
o
n all of the finishing school
lists
when warning debutantes against ruin. In his mind, it was an accomplishment of gigantic proportions.

She trained a cold glare on him, momentarily giving Benedict pause.
“Is that it then? You will never marry, even if it’s my
dying
wish
?
A
nd you plan to enjoy the short years you have left living a life that even the devil himself wouldn’t approve?”

Truly it wasn’t as bad as all that.
She was given to exaggeration
. If he
was
that bad, well, he wouldn’t be accepted into
S
ociety.

And he was accepted everywhere.

He lifted his eyebrows as if waiting for her to continue speaking.
When she didn’t, he
said, “Well, as you can see
,
I am firm in my belief that I will not change. Good day.” He made a move to leave.

She coughed and held up her hand.

Patience was not one of Benedict’s virtues, nor was being used by any sort of woman
,
especially one who still held a grudge the size of London. Devil take it, a blasted dog at Almacks?
To see h
im marr
ied
before she died? Clearly his aunt was mad, perhaps they had room in Bedlam for one more…

“I truly am dying.” Agatha held a trembling hand to her face and winced.

“Ah yes, forgive me for forgetting that minor
detail
.” He took a seat opposite her and waited.

“Hmmph.” Agatha crossed her arms and coughed again. “I need to see you settled down before I die, Benedict. My acceptance into heaven depends on it.”

That, he believed.

“And what will you give me in return for my obedience? After all, who knows what kind of notion you’re bound to get, considering you’ve been cooped up in your bed all day
with the
ague. What’s to say you won’t demand I suddenly begin sprouting children all over the place? Or
take up
dog
-
breeding? Or, heaven forbid, offer a smile?”

Aunt Agatha had the good sense to
blush
before answering. “Believe me, Benedict, finding a bride may prove more difficult than you realize. The idea that you think this to be easy is quite laughable, if I do say so myself.”
Cough.

Laughable? Truly? Biting back a curse, he turned around and ran his fingers through his hair. Mad, his aunt was truly mad. Either that or she had a death wish. How was it that his aunt had the
nerve
to insult him when the rest of the
ton
was so deathly afraid of him and his reputation that he was rumored to be the spawn of Satan himself?

Not that it kept any sort of married female away from him. Laughable? His aunt didn’t know what she was talking about. Perhaps she was truly dying, for the day a woman had the audacity to say no to the Devil Duke would also be the day he would promptly eat his shirt and buy a lap dog.

“And I’ve already done all the work for you, my boy!”

Why was he not surprised? She probably had a special license underneath that dratted chair she was sitting in, as well.

“And who is to be the victim, Aunt?”

Did her eyes just twinkle? Impossible! The woman was seldom amused. “Lady Katherine Bourne
.
I do believe you are acquainted, though I also have another female in mind
,
considering Lady Katherine is a little high in the instep for you
,
my boy, but not so much for another young fellow
I know
.”

If he would have had a drink in his hand this would have been the opportune moment for him to throw back the remaining contents or slam it against the floor. As it was, he was having a devil of a time keeping himself from cursing in the presence of his aunt, even though one could hardly call her a lady with the way she threw around French expletives.

“You truly mean for me to align myself with that, that...” Obviously his mind was having trouble conjuring up an adequate word to describe the girl in question. So much, in fact, that he could only concentrate on the simple idea that his aunt wanted him in the same room as the chit.

“She’s lovely,” his aunt pointed out. “And need I remind you that she’s a Kerrington? Why, every young man within the city wants to be with the Kerrington family; they are, after all, closely related to the regent himself, and I’m not one to brag—”

Benedict stopped listening when the word
lovely
was mentioned. It seemed this would be the opportune time to remind his aunt of her need for an heir, or at least nieces and nephews to dote on. It certainly would not take place with the Bourne chit!

“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, or at least he hoped he was. Nothing made him happier than interrupting his aunt when she
spoke
.

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”

Typical, the word
no
wasn’t in her vocabulary.

“I mean,” Benedict sent up a silent prayer for strength, “That I wouldn’t marry the chit if you offered me all the money in the world!”

“She’s beautiful!”

“She’s as clumsy as she is mad!” Benedict roared.

His aunt squinted and tossed her head from right to left, most likely trying to give him the impression she didn’t agree, though it seemed that she was closer to having an apoplectic fit than arguing.

“I disagree.” She lifted her chin in the air and sniffed. “You have no proof she did those dreadful things. After all, it has been three years since you’ve seen her! She’s a girl of three and twenty now! Nearly on the shelf.”

“I wonder why,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh posh, how much harm could she have done?”

“Harm?” Benedict repeated. “Harm?”

“You said that.”

“Harm,” he said again, mainly to provoke his aunt. At her scowl, he continued, “She nearly killed me—”

“Truly you exaggerate.”

It was obviously time for a drink; Benedict walked to the sideboard and poured three fingers of brandy. “I hardly exaggerate the story. Need I remind you there were witnesses? The girl followed me home. Hid, Aunt! Hid in the bushes and nearly scared my horse out of its wits, tossing me from its back! I was bedridden for a week!”

“Silly accident.” His aunt waved it away.

“On our second meeting,” he continued, gaining more courage to argue from the amber liquid swirling in his belly, “she decided to race Lord Rawlings through the fields of the estate and nearly fell of her horse! I had to rescue her, naturally, because Rawlings had so obviously bested her, and when I came upon the fair damsel, she told me to stop
,
and at that precise moment
,
I was hit in the face with a tree branch!”

“Again, I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose.”

Benedict growled low in his throat. “Bedridden, again, three days. Need I go on?”

“Oh
,
please do.” Aunt Agatha sipped her tea. “I do love to hear of your exaggerations.
It’s as if someone is telling me a bedtime story.”

Benedict held up his finger and pointed at his aunt. “The third and final time I was in that girl
’
s presence, and notice I say girl because to call her a woman would be an insult to the sex, I offered to dance with her. Wanted to bury the hatchet and all that. We danced, she was amiable, and then she looked faint. I, being the gentleman that I am...” Aunt Agatha coughed. Saucy wench. “Took her to the outside air. Upon reaching the balcony she leaned over and dropped her reticule. I leaned down to fetch it and managed to topple over onto the ground. Somehow hitting my head a third time. Truly, I’m lucky to be alive.”