When a Duke Says I Do Read Online Free PDF Page A

the rest of his life to a girl who was about as exciting as a piece of lightly cooked toast.
    A footman stood sentry outside his father’s offices and Oscar requested permission to enter, as he was always forced to do in this house.
    “One moment, Lord Hathwaite.” The efficient servant disappeared into the room, only to appear moments later, opening the door wide enough for him to make entry into his father’s lair.
    His father was obviously waiting for him, for he sat in his leather-bound chair, glowering darkly. Oscar gave his father the bow he was due.
    “You wanted to see me, Your Grace?”
    The duke snapped open his watch, no doubt placed on his desk like a prop in a badly written play. “I wanted to see you ten minutes ago, Hathwaite.”
    His father never called him by his Christian name, and Oscar never called the man with whom he shared lineage Father. They treated each other like acquaintances—who didn’t much like one another.
    Edgar Wilkinson, the seventh Duke of Kingston, eyed his son with open disdain. “You need a better valet,” he said finally.
    Oscar tried not to let his scathing tone lower him, but it was a difficult task. Despite everything, a sick and weak part of him still strove to please this man. He hated that most of all.
    “Take a seat.”
    Oscar eyed the uncomfortable and rather small chair indicated by his father and stifled a grimace. He longed to lounge in it insolently, to put on an air of boredom, but he simply lacked the courage to do so. He sat, back straight, shoes planted firmly and flatly on the floor in front of him and awaited his father’s pronouncement.
    “The wedding is set for May the tenth. It should be the event that launches the Season. Your fiancée is having a birthday celebration in September and we will formally announce the engagement then.”
    Oscar felt his stomach give yet another sickening twist. He had been right about this meeting, so he didn’t know why it should shock him so much to hear those words.
    “Have you informed Elsie, Your Grace?” It was such a small victory, to see how calling his future wife by her nickname irked his father.
    The duke wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Lord Huntington shall be informed today. I just sent a missive to him and expect an answer will be forthcoming. In the meantime, I wish you would cease calling Miss Elizabeth that ridiculously common name and use her proper Christian name.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The duke took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as if he’d just picked up a nasty scent. “I have a request to make of you.”
    That was, perhaps, the oddest thing his father had ever said to him. His father didn’t make requests, he made demands. He ordered, he did not ask. “I would request that you name your first born son Henry.” His voice was like steel, but his eyes flickered with enough emotion that he almost looked vulnerable for the briefest moments.
    Oscar couldn’t help himself. He laughed. The sound burst from his throat before his brain could stop it. And then he did something much worse. Using the disdainful tone he’d learned so well from his sire, he said, “You have no right to make such a request.”
    “No right?” the duke asked, with menacing softness. “I have every right. My son will not have died in vain.”
    “Sons. You had two sons.”
    The duke’s face turned livid. “You are dismissed,” he bit out.
    Even though Oscar was shaking, he stood and walked out of the room without another word, feeling as if he’d finally won a victory over the old duke. He just wished the victory tasted sweeter.

Chapter 4
     
    Elsie meant to avoid the ballroom, for she sensed the man was uneasy with her presence. But when she found herself wandering the main floor and spied that narrow strip of light beneath the ballroom door, she simply couldn’t resist spying to see what Alexander was doing.
    Monsieur Desmarais had demanded complete privacy, claiming that he could not work with disruptions