Page 11 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

The Duke came toward her, and she looked down at the floor. Despite his ire, she needed his embrace to take away her pain.

“I would like my tailcoat back,” he said, holding out his hand. “I presume your clothes are in here somewhere?”

Beatrice looked up, surprised. She should have expected nothing less from the cruel Duke. “Will you please look away while I dress?”

“I am not some rogue who wishes to ogle you because you are undressed. Is that your first thought? That I should wish to make this situation as uncomfortable as possible and have you dress in front of me? Besides, it is nothing more than what I have already seen a dozen times, and you were more than eager to show yourself off when I entered the room. You still have your shift. Hand me my tailcoat so I can leave, and I assure you that I have no intention of staring.”

Beatrice didn’t hesitate under his gaze. She stood up to her full height and removed the coat so she was in only her undergarments again. This time, the Duke’s eyes did not linger on her. He took the coat, donned it, and turned to face the door once more.

“You are a piece of work,” he snapped. “You meant to seduce Robert, didn’t you? I am about done with the ladies of the ton and the games you all play. Always trying to change who we are and have us do your bidding.”

As he ranted, Beatrice quickly retrieved her clothes and got dressed.

“What is wrong with the man you are promised to? You know what? It doesn’t matter to me. You think you have problems, but you don’t have the first idea about problems. How many lives were you hoping to ruin to get what you wanted?”

“It is not like that,” Beatrice said softly. “I know this is all my fault, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s life. I have done enough of that as it is.”

She frantically searched for the hair clip she had removed in preparation for seducing Lord Pemberton.

The Duke bent down and retrieved it from under the bed.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she murmured, hoping the gesture might ease the tension between them.

The Duke grunted and reached further under the bed to retrieve a bottle. He stood back up and handed her the hair clip.

“I was gettingthis.” He held up the bottle. “Your hair clip was on the floor, and it was no extra effort to retrieve it for you.”

Beatrice stood before him in her dress, and when she looked into his eyes, it was a very different experience from when she had gazed at him downstairs.

Perhaps I have a knack for ruining everything!

“I will fix this,” she claimed.

“You will do no such thing,” the Duke warned. “You have done enough already, and you shall not meddle anymore. I will take care of the situation, and that will be that. Do you understand me?”

Beatrice nodded quickly.

The Duke opened the door. “Go and leave the ball. I believe you are done here. Do not mention a word of this to anyone, not even your sister. I will ensure this does not become a bigger deal than it needs to be. And be warned, you made this mess, you should deal with the repercussions. You will agree that I am innocent in all of this, so if there is any blame, you and you alone will bear it. Do I make myself clear?”

“But—”

“Do I make myself clear?” the Duke growled.

“Yes.” Beatrice wanted to burst into tears, but she remained strong.

“Good.” He gestured with his head for her to leave.

Beatrice could have run out of the room, but she held her head high and walked past the Duke. She didn’t look back as she descended the stairs back to the ball. She didn’t look at anyone, but she felt all eyes on her. It felt like everyone already knew what she had done, and they were all talking about her.

The only person she willingly locked eyes with was Hannah. Her little sister shot her a look that said,What happened?

“Where the blast have you been?” her father asked when she returned to her family.

“I needed some air,” Beatrice claimed.

“Lord Mutton left already,” her father stated.

Her mother harrumphed disapprovingly.

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