My Duke Made a Cruel Bet to Conquer Me — So I Kissed His Brother Instead
Part 1
I stood in the shadows of the glittering ballroom, exhausted by another night of forced smiles and tedious conversation.
My stepmother hovered nearby like a hawk, desperate to marry me off to any man with a sufficient title.
She had already pushed three utterly boring suitors my way tonight, ignoring my clear discomfort.
I would rather live alone forever than marry a man who only cared about my dowry and his own pride.
The heavy scent of perfume and the suffocating heat of the crowded room made me feel dizzy.
I stepped behind a marble pillar to catch my breath, praying no one would notice my temporary escape.
That was when I heard the arrogant, unmistakable laugh of Richard Parker, the notorious Duke of Somerset.
He stood in the center of a circle of his wealthy friends, his dark hair gleaming under the crystal chandeliers.
His reputation as London’s most dangerous rake preceded him everywhere he went.
I held my breath and pressed myself against the cold stone, not wanting to draw his predatory attention.
“Come now, Richard,” one of his drunken friends slurred loudly.
“Surely you cannot claim that any woman would succumb to your charms within a matter of weeks.”
The Duke’s laughter was rich and confident, the sound of a man who had never been denied anything in his privileged life.
He swirled the brandy in his glass with lazy arrogance.
“You underestimate my abilities, gentlemen,” Richard proclaimed with a theatrical sigh.
“Given one month, I could have any lady in this room professing her undying love and begging for my hand in marriage.”
My stomach turned at his casual cruelty.
He viewed women as nothing more than conquests, pieces on a chessboard to be manipulated for his own juvenile entertainment.
His friends laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
“Prove it then,” an older lord challenged, slamming his glass onto a passing waiter’s tray.
“Choose one of these forgotten wallflowers and demonstrate your legendary powers of seduction.”
Richard’s sharp blue eyes swept across the ballroom, assessing the innocent young women like a wolf sizing up a flock of sheep.
I tried to shrink further into the shadows, but his gaze snapped directly toward my hiding place.
He smiled, a slow, predatory expression that made my blood run cold.
“There,” Richard announced loudly, pointing directly at me.
“Miss Sarah Hughes, the proud spinster who considers herself far above the common desires of lesser mortals.”
My heart pounded furiously against my ribs as every head in the room turned to stare at me.
I had nowhere to hide.
“She has refused every suitor for three seasons,” Richard continued, his voice echoing in the sudden silence.
“The perfect challenge for a man of my considerable talents.”
I stepped out from behind the pillar, my hands trembling with a mixture of profound humiliation and rising fury.
My stepmother gasped loudly, her face draining of all color at the scandal unfolding before her.
Richard stepped forward and executed a mocking, perfectly elegant bow.
“Give me a kiss, Miss Hughes, and I shall make you my wife.”
The words struck me like a physical blow.
He had reduced my entire future, my dignity, and my reputation to a cheap parlor trick for his friends’ amusement.
I looked around the room and saw pity in the eyes of the women and cruel amusement in the faces of the men.
I refused to be the punchline to his pathetic joke.
I lifted my chin and met his arrogant stare, determined not to let him see the tears stinging my eyes.
Just as I opened my mouth to deliver the sharpest rejection I could muster, the heavy ballroom doors swung open.
George Parker, Richard’s younger brother, walked into the room in his immaculate military uniform.
He possessed none of his brother’s flashy charm, but his quiet strength and honorable bearing commanded instant respect.
He stopped in his tracks, clearly confused by the silent crowd and the tension crackling in the air.
A desperate, wild plan formed in my mind.
Before Richard could utter another mocking word, I gathered my skirts and marched directly toward his bewildered brother.
I ignored the shocked gasps echoing around me as I closed the distance between us.
I reached George, rose onto my tiptoes, and pressed my lips firmly against his in front of the entire assembly.
He froze in shock, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air as my kiss shattered the silence of the room.
When I finally pulled away, my cheeks were burning, but my voice remained steady and clear.
I turned back to face Richard, my eyes blazing with triumphant defiance.
“There, Your Grace,” I declared loudly.
“I have given you the kiss you requested, delivered through the most honorable proxy I could find.”
The crowd erupted into chaotic whispers.
“Now, as a gentleman of your word, I expect you to proceed immediately with our wedding arrangements.”
I had humiliated the most powerful man in London, but as he stepped toward me with a cold, terrifying smile, I realized my nightmare was only just beginning.
