To Love, Honor, and Obey... (Fated for Love) (3 page)

It was time to leave and bid adieu to her girlhood infatuation. She hoped he would not remain long so that she could continue to visit with the duke as she did most days. It would be good for father and son to have some private time, and then surely Chance would return to his extravagant town life and Obedience could go on with hers. She moved to stand and both men turned to her, ceasing conversation.

Chance stood, and the duke frowned. “Are you leaving already?”

“Ah, yes. I must return home now, and I don’t want to intrude on your time with Ted—I mean, Lord Willowton.” Chance watched her but said nothing. She could feel her cheeks warming under his regard.

“But you will return for dinner? You must celebrate my son’s return with me. It is only fitting.” The duke pinned her with a stare.

“I don’t want to intrude...”

“Bah!” The duke swung an arm through the air as if her words were buzzing bees. “I insist.”

Obedience sighed in defeat. “All right, if you insist
,” she said through clenched teeth. Her avenue of escape was dwindling quickly. “Then I shall return home to change.”

Again,
the duke waved away her words. “Nonsense. You are lovely as you are. We can dine informally at six thirty. I’ll have a note sent ‘round to your beastly mother.”

“If that is what you want.” She returned to her seat
, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. The duke was often overbearing. Normally, she gave the duke as well as she got, but with Chance here, her tongue felt like thick sand. Tonight would be miserable.

At his father’s behest, Chance summoned Gable to inform him of their plans for dinner. They continued with pleasant conversation until a footman arrived to set up a table, and Chance assisted
on moving his father out of the way. The majority of the time Obedience remained quiet and observant. She blushed many times when his father teased and cajoled her, but overall, she remained distant. It was very unlike her. After the table was set, they took their seats, and a footman poured them each a glass of wine. Chance turned his attention to her, determined to bring her out of her shell.

“I must apologize for my father. He can be quite the oaf and about as considerate as a bear.”

The duke chuckled as he took a hearty drink from his goblet.

She turned wide eyes to Chance and smiled tentatively. “He isn’t all that bad, really.”

Chance watched her carefully. Could it be that her lack of enjoyment this afternoon was because of him? Did he make her nervous? It was rubbish. Chance had a reputation of being the most likable fellow in town.  He could charm the shyest wallflower onto the dance floor and make her feel like a queen.

“Be honest. Even with his failing heart, he had the gall to bully you into staying for dinner.”

Obedience looked to the duke in concern. At that moment, more footmen arrived with serving trays towering with steaming platters of food. They each served themselves as the footmen retreated, and Obedience took up the conversation.

“You didn’t tell me about your heart
,” Obedience narrowed her eyes at the duke.

The duke tossed a glare at Chance. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“What did you think was happening with the chairs and doctors?” Chance questioned.

Her eyes snapped back to him. “He claimed it was because he was a fat old man and his joints were hurting. He said the doctors were your overbearing idea.”

It was Chance's turn to glare at his father.

“This is precisely what I wished to avoid,” the duke grumbled and took a bite of his food.

“What is wrong with him?” she asked Chance.

Chance met her concerned eyes and didn’t know how much to tell her. “I’ve been asking myself that for years.”

“Ha!” his father barked and continued to eat.

Obedience narrowed her eyes as she looked back and forth between them. “I want to know the truth
, or God help the both of you,” she threatened.

Chance smiled. He preferred this Obedience compared to the frightened mouse she was moments before. He sobered. “The doctors say his heart is weak. It could give out at any moment.”

Obedience felt her mouth go slack. She looked back at the duke. “When were you going to tell me?”

“This isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.” The duke glowered.

“When are you ever appropriate?” Obedience returned.

“My father is right. Let’s talk about something else.” Chance took her hand under the table, and she turned to him in surprise.
Later
, he mouthed.

Obedience nodded. She was so shocked by the sudden warmth of his hand over hers that she wasn’t capable of doing much else. She would let the matter rest and do her best to act normally the rest of dinner. Chance tried to coerce them into easy conversation, but it was stilted at best. Chance eventually released her hand, but she could still feel the warmth of his touch. She looked down at her plate and pushed her peas around. She ate little
as her appetite was chased away by anxiety and nerves. Her mother would be pleased. She was forever pestering her about her figure and kept her on a strict slimming diet when home. Thank the lord she spent so much time away from home or she would starve to death. She never told the duke any of this or he would be cross. He already had a strong aversion toward her mother for the things he did know. Obedience was glad to have such a champion, but perhaps her mother was right.

Obedience looked at Chance from under her lashes. She wondered what kind of women he favored. Slim women? Willowy wraiths who danced like elegant swans? Her younger sister received a copy of La Belle assemble, and Obedience looked nothing like the women in the sketches. They looked so regal and aloof. Was that what was attractive in London? If it were, Obedience fell far short. She sighed despondently.

“Obedience, are you unwell?” The duke pulled her from her thoughts.

“No.”

You’ve barely touched a thing on your plate.” He pestered her.

Chance and the duke focused all their attention on her
, and she blushed with embarrassment. “Well...” she stammered. “My mother says I must be mindful of my figure—.”

“Bollocks.” The duke threw his napkin on the table. “When I get my hands on that woman...”
he growled.

“Father
,” Chance chastised. “Mind your language.”

“I won’t hear of any disparaging remarks about your person,
or any more of the tripe she fills your head with.”

“Please,”
she begged. “I just want to enjoy this night without discussing my mother. She is not the only reason my appetite has gone amiss. If you had been more forthcoming about being ill then—”

“So tis my fault, eh? Well then, my heart is weak, my body is weak
—”

“Father.” Chance tried to stop him.

“And my son has returned home to prepare for my passing. Is that what you want to know? The truth of the matter is I am dying. No one but me wants to face that fact but there it is. Now, if you will excuse me, I have exhausted myself.”

Chance stood to help his father.

“No, no. Do not leave our guest unattended. Summon a footman to take me to my room.”

Chance did as he asked, mindful of Obedience’s quiet devastation. The footman arrived and wheeled the duke from the room. Just before they reached the door, Obedience bolted from her chair and threw her arms around the duke. No one made a sound as she hugged him tightly and then reluctantly let go. She watched as they crossed the threshold,
folding her arms around herself. “He wouldn’t have told me unless you had said something. I understand that. He would have been here one day and gone the next without any explanation.”

Chance waited, standing just a few feet away from her. He was perplexed by his own urge to comfort her and hold her. “He doesn’t like to show weakness to anyone.”

“Is that why you came home... to prepare?” She turned to him.

“I was summoned
by his solicitor.” He watched her swallow with difficulty and then look around the room in confusion. 

“I think I should go
,” she stated.

“I’ll see you home.” He moved to the bell pull again to ring for the carriage.

“Don’t bother, I can see myself home.”

“I don’t think so.” He grabbed her arm as she walked past him. “It’s getting dark and it’s not safe to go alone.”

“I’ve done it many times. I’m perfectly safe.”

“It makes no difference to me. I will see you safely home.”

“Chance.” She cried out. She had that awful sharp pain in her throat that meant tears were imminent. She did not want to cry in front of him. She tried to pull her arm away, but he held it firmly.

“Why are you so anxious to leave? Am I unfit company?”
he said imploringly.

“Of course not. I just want to be alone
. I’m—”

“Upset?” He looked into her eyes, seeing what she wanted to keep hidden.

“Yes.”

“And you want to cry?”

She quickly blinked away tears. “I don’t want to cry, but it seems I must.”

Chance smiled and pulled her closer to him. “You can cry in front of me
. I won’t hold it against you.”

She giggled, but tears filled her eyes and Chance pulled her into a hug. She didn’t fight him,
but instead she turned her face into his shoulder and quietly sobbed. He wrapped his arms around her and just held her. He understood her pain. He was still reeling from the news himself. He felt the anguish too, but he couldn’t give into his sorrow when his father needed him.

He didn’t know how long they stood there like that, but eventually
, she pulled away and dried her eyes. He called a carriage for her and watched from the front door as it carried her away into the darkness. There was much to talk about, but he would let the shock wear off before they discussed anything more.

He climbed the main stairs deep in thought. He still couldn't wrap his mind around her and how she made him feel. He wondered if he would feel this way even if his father hadn't said anything about wanting them to marry. He didn't understand it, any of it. It's
as if he stepped into a dream. No woman had ever made him feel this off balance. He always knew exactly what he wanted, the right decision to make. But when he thought of her his mind became muddled, he had trouble looking past the vision she had become.

He didn't feel in control and that bothered him. It should have been simple. Couples married for practical reasons all the time
—the transfer of property, the urging of a will. But that's not exactly what his father was asking of him. Was it?

He reached his room
, and his valet helped him out of his coat. The window was open to let in the cooler evening air providing some relief from the summer heat. Chance finished undressing and dismissed his valet. He poured himself another drink from the decanter he kept in his room and slid under the sheet. Tomorrow he needed to focus on what he could do for his father, but it was going to be difficult if he couldn't get Obedience out of his head.

Even when she had sat with them
throughout the afternoon and dinner, her unease was palpable. Was it all because of him? And when he held her as she cried, he felt things he had never felt before, sort of a possessive protectiveness. He needed to know more. He wouldn't be able to make a decision about her until he crossed the line from childhood friends to potential lovers. It went against his code of honor to do so, but it was his only option to give him some clarity. A single kiss may hold all the answers he was seeking.

When Obedience woke, her eyelids felt stuffed with cotton. She had succumbed to more tears last night when she returned to her room, but not as much. Chance had been comforting, and when she remembered the feel of his arms around her, her stomach felt tingly and pleasant, that is until it growled, begging for sustenance.

She completed her morning ablutions and entered the breakfast room. The cheery chatter of her mother and sister did not cease when she entered, and Obedience was content to head to the sideboard and fill a plate without their notice. She sat in her usual chair and scooped a pile of eggs onto her fork. She sighed with pleasure as she brought the steaming nourishment to her mouth.

“Obedience?”

Drat.
The eggs wobbled precariously on her fork as she turned to look at her mother. A soft plop filled the now silent room as her eggs fell to her plate. “Yes, Mother?”

“Eggs are a bit extravagant
, don’t you think, dear? I’ve seen very little results of your slimming diet and wonder if maybe I’ve been too lenient?”

Obedience wanted to groan.

“From now on, only tea for breakfast, fruit for lunch, and a leaf of lettuce with a slice of tomato for dinner. That should be sufficient for nourishment and shed those unwanted...” she waved dismissively at Obedience, “curves you’re so enamored with.”

Obedience could only stare. She heard her mother quite clearly, but she simply could not fathom the woman.