A Contract

For a moment, Maxine thought she had heard wrong, or that she was trapped in a dreadful dream from which she couldn't awaken.

As she glanced at the man who had her cornered against the wall, he resembled a predator closing in on its prey. She cleared her throat, determined to assert herself, and said, "My Lord, I am not here to fulfill your carnal desires, as you may have assumed." She slowly closed her eyes briefly, attempting to regain her composure despite the overwhelming proximity of the man. "I would appreciate some space, My Lord."

The man, who had introduced himself as Duke Sullivan, withdrew his hand from the wall, allowing Maxine to take a glimpse of another man he had been conversing with.

To her surprise, there were two more men standing in the corner of the room. Although they seemed entirely disinterested in her presence, their imposing stature and presence sent shivers down her spine. She reasoned that if she were to be threatened or her gown torn asunder, it would take only one of these men to accomplish it. They appeared far more robust and imposing than she could ever hope to be. Her life had been dedicated to the healing arts, leaving her with no time or inclination for martial skills.

As Duke Sullivan distanced himself from her, she could finally appreciate his striking features, unobscured by his previous proximity.

She had never encountered a man with hair as long as his. Typically, men with long hair were subjected to ridicule or called effeminate due to their resemblance to the fairer sex. However, this man's chestnut mane cascaded below his shoulders, defying convention while maintaining an undeniable masculine charm.

Maxine's gaze lingered on his distinctive facial features. His full, reddish-black lips, defined jawline, and prominent cheekbones added to his overall elegance.

"If you'll stop gawking, Lady Maxine, I'd like to explain why you've been brought here."

Realizing she had been lost in her fascination for a moment, Maxine bit her lip, chastising herself silently. "How did I arrive here, and where am I? What's the reason for my presence here?"

'Stupid. You should have asked those questions the moment you laid eyes on him instead of gawking,' she scolded herself. She couldn't afford to be distracted by another man's allure when she was betrothed to Prince Maverick.

Duke Sullivan turned and gestured, prompting two men who had been previously engrossed in their activities to exit the room, leaving Damien behind.

Her anxiety diminished slightly, though she knew better than to let her guard down entirely.

"There's no need for lengthy introductions," Duke Sullivan began. "My previous introduction should suffice. Allow me to ask, as a healer, what's the highest sum you've ever been paid for your services?"

Maxine, though puzzled by the sudden question, responded with pride, "My Lord, I can't recall the exact figures, but I can certainly discuss some of the substantial payments I've received for my—"

"Go on," he urged.

Her voice carried a sense of accomplishment as she recounted, "You must be familiar with the plague that once afflicted our kingdom, My Lord. At that time, I produced thousands of remedies, which was a costly endeavor. However, my earnings exceeded a thousandfold of the investment put into research and the cure's production. I must also mention that the King received a substantial portion of—"

Before she could finish with her statements, he interrupted her.

"I asked a straightforward question, not for a detailed account of events from a few years ago in your kingdom or the fortunes you amassed," Duke Sullivan interjected, his tone a touch more aggressive.

Maxine furrowed her brow, sensing that his response was somewhat unusual for someone of his supposed station. Could it be that he wasn't from Beddington? Or perhaps, there was more to his identity than met the eye. Regardless, she remained composed and replied, "I apologize, My Lord, but I cannot divulge information about my patients."

She felt a sudden chill creep down her spine as Duke Sullivan pressed further, "Even if it means a fortune beyond your wildest dreams?"

For a moment, Maxine considered putting this man in his place by mentioning her impending marriage to Prince Maverick. After all, what fortune could compare to that of a future queen? But she quickly refocused her resolve, stating firmly, "Yes, My Lord, even if it means a fortune I have never dared to dream of."

The Duke seemed to accept her response, if not entirely pleased by it. He turned to Damien and instructed, "Damien, provide the young lady with what you've prepared, along with ink and a quill for signing."

Maxine's eyes widened at his words. "And what, pray tell, am I signing for, My Lord? Who are you, and why have I been brought here?"

She couldn't help but feel a sense of incredulity at the Duke's claims. Was he jesting about being the Duke of Ashbourne?

"I am Sullivan, Duke of Ashbourne," he stated firmly, as if expecting her disbelief. "You have been highly recommended as a healer with exceptional talents. You will sign a contract to heal me, outlining the terms and conditions."

"Ah... My Lord, how long do you intend to jest about being the Duke of Ashbourne?" Maxine asked, a faint smile playing on her lips as her gaze settled on the scroll held by Damien.

Duke Sullivan's brow furrowed, clearly unaccustomed to such skepticism. He glanced at Damien, who handed the scroll to the young healer. "You will be handsomely rewarded if you can heal me, young lady. However, if my ailment persists, you will find your dreams of a splendid coffin replaced by a much less glamorous wooden one built by me."

Maxine couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity and apprehension. She had been thrust into an unexpected and perplexing situation, and she had no choice but to navigate it to the best of her abilities.