Married To A Duke

Run. Run. Run.

Amelie

“Amelie, my future wife.”

I swàllowed.

“Your father has allowed me to meet with you,” He said as I heard his heavy footfalls, not even muffled by the rug. “So, we could know each other better.”

I turned to face him. Angus Clarke. My father’s new best friend and if I didn’t find a way out of this soon enough then my future husband. Even the thought of it made me want to vomit on the floor. I felt my skin crawl as if ants were running on my body as he took another step closer, bringing the smell of tobacco with him.

He came to stand in front of me. Too close for my sanity and I checked the impulse to step back. “So…. Beautiful…” He murmured, his cool index finger touching my cheek and like every other time his eyes raked over me, making me want to hide away somewhere. He was handsome enough, if one likes hawk like eyes and a body like a tank. But all I feel was deep iciness that settles in my bones when I look at him or whenever my father pushes him in my space, like now.

I am going to be sick. I’m going to be sick.

That thought kept running through my mind. And I didn’t pay attention to his next words. I should’ve, because now he was leaning closer. Taking me by surprise his face leaned closer. And what I did next, I blamed it on the surprise element. My knee shot out as I hit him between the legs and I didn’t wait to see the result as I made a run for it. But of course, he was quick to recover. I didn’t even reach my bedroom door when his hand closed around my shoulder and whirled me around.

With a jerk, he slammed me back into the wall. The back of my head hit the wall and white stars burst in front of my eyes, my spine protesting the movement. “You think you can run away from me? You can’t, future wife. Not unless I put you out of your misery, because now you’re my property.”

“We are not married yet.” I hissed, blinking back the tears of pain as I tried to free myself.

His hand pushed me back and another travelled down from my shoulder. I stiffened, my insides screaming as his palm grazed my breast and closed around me. “Soon enough. I have your father’s blessing.”

No. No. No.

Do something, Ami! Now!

I breathed deeply. Allowed my body to relax against everything. “You are right.” I said, my voice soft. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

His eyes gleamed, and slowly his hold loosened. “Now, that’s my girl… You have to just obey me, and everything will be perfect for you, future wife.”

I licked my lips. His eyes dropped to them as expected. With a smile, I didn’t feel, I put my hand on the middle of his chest. When he stepped away a little, I slammed my head forward. And without wasting a second I punched him in the face too. Take that, arsehole.

This time he didn’t catch me as I ran away from my own bedroom, no longer safe there, courtesy of my father. I ignored the pain in my forehead and knuckles, just grateful for my height. Or the lack of his. I skipped down the stairs. Looking back, I saw him making his way toward me, his face thunderous. He’d kill me. It was written all across his face. I slammed face first into a hard chest. And was engulfed in a familiar scent. The scent I had once loved. Now, I felt nothing but numb and hate toward the naïve girl I used to be.

“Whoa…. Amelie… what happened?” Adam asked.

“Ah… there you are…” I closed my eyes and willed my heart to stop hammering against my ribcage. Cold fingers curled around my wrist and I swàllowed the whimper at the tight grip. “You can go, Adam. My future wife was just playing at hard to get.”

And as expected with one last glance and nod to Angus, Adam left. If I could kill someone I will, not Angus, I will kill Adam.

“Now, where were we?” With that ominous question and the tightening grip on my wrist, Angus turned me around to face him. “This fire…” He gritted out, his fingers pinching my bottom lip. “I’ll beat it out of you.”

The look in his eyes promised retribution but before he could’ve done anything, footsteps that I knew belonged to my father echoed from behind me. Angus' hold didn’t relent but he allowed me to turn around and face my father. My father. Gregory Wesley. The man who was supposed to protect me, not throw me to the rabid dogs.

“Angus, I see your meeting hasn’t ended with my daughter yet.” He didn’t even look at me, his eyes deep brown in comparison to my light ones still focused on the man standing beside me.

I swàllowed the rush of frustrated tears as Angus responded to my father. I didn’t know why the tears wanted to come now, when I have already shed so many. I have known it since an early age, my father doesn’t love me. He wanted a son, and when it became clear my mother couldn’t give him one, he hated her just like he hated me for being a girl. But, once again, like a lost little girl after her mother’s death with hope, I whispered, “Papa…” A little louder, I tried, “Papa…”

His brows furrowed as his eyes came to me. I licked my dry lips, my heart thudding in my chest as hoping against everything that may be… just once…. “Please, Papa, I do not want to marry him. Please….” I watched as his jaw tightened, my already cracked heart suffered one more crack. It was stupid. But I rushed out, “He tried to force me, Papa.” The fingers, bruising, almost breaking my wrist bone. I held my hand up. “See… papa…” I showed my father, knowing a bruise would be forming on my pale skin.

My father’s eyes went to Angus and he said, “Angus, we talked. Not until you both are married, and leave the poor girl’s hand. She’s bruising.”

The fingers uncurled, but it didn’t matter when I bled from inside. I wiped the stray tear that escaped my eye even after trying to control it and said, “I am pregnant.”

It seemed even the air froze in the hall as both the man stared at me. Angus must’ve started to say something because my father held up his hand, palm out. I wanted to hide away somewhere because the look in my father’s eyes, I had seen that look once before. On my twenty first birthday. On the day everything I dreamed was stolen from me.

My father took a step toward me. “What did you just say?”

A chance to take those words back. Tell him that I made a mistake. But if I took that chance it’d mean marrying the monster standing beside me. “I… I..” My throat was so tight, my body already afraid of the outcome. “I am pregn—” I didn’t get to even finish that before the first slap came, more like a punch, sending me flying.

To Be Continued...