Page 86 of Taken By the Beastly Duke

Just as her patience was about to snap and call for a horse herself, the door creaked open, and Anthony walked in.

Relief should have been what she felt.

Horror was her experience.

Her son, the once dashing and impeccably dressed duke of the estate, looked utterly disheveled.

He was still wearing the same dark tailcoat and white cravat from the previous evening's ball, now wrinkled and stained with God knows what.

His boots that were always usually polished to a sheen, were caked with mud. His shirt was open at the collar, his vest disheveled as though he had made no attempt to straighten himself after the long night.

But it was his face that concerned her the most… his normally clean-shaven jaw was now rough with stubble, his eyes sunken, dark circles framing them.

"Anthony!" she gasped, her hand rising to her chest as she took in the sight of him. "What on earth has happened to you?"

He said nothing.

His gaze barely flickered in her direction as he strode past her, heading for the sideboard where a decanter of brandy awaited.

"Anthony!" she repeated, her voice sharp now, tinged with the worry she could not admit aloud. "Where have you been? Why do you look like this? You’ve not even washed or changed your clothes from last night! What happened?!"

He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid sloshing slightly over the edge of the glass and without responding, he downed the brandy in a single gulp, his jaw tightening as the burn slid down his throat.

Helen's frustration rose.

She had never known her son to be so... dismissive.

Cold… brooding yes, buy disrespectful, down right dismissive?

This was not the man she had raised, not the heir to the Devlin name. Her son was always in control, always the picture of dignity. And yet here he was, looking like a man who had spent the night fighting demons.

"Do not ignore me, Anthony!" she snapped, her temper flaring. "I will not be treated like one of your servants. You owe me an explanation."

He sighed, setting the empty glass down with a loud thud. "There's nothing to explain, Mother. Everything is fine."

"Fine?" she repeated, incredulous. "You call this fine? You disappear without a word, you look like you’ve been dragged through the streets, and you expect me to believe that everything is fine? I’ve been here for hours, worrying-"

"I didn’t ask you to worry," he interrupted coldly, his voice low and tired. "It’s not your concern."

Her eyes widened, both shocked and enraged at his tone. "Not my concern?" she repeated. "Anthony, you dismissed all your guests last night! Without a word, without explanation! Do you realize the scandal you’ve caused? Do you understand what this means for our family’s reputation?"

He said nothing, just merely refilled his glass, his expression still unreadable.

"We were just beginning to recover from the last scandal," she continued, her voice rising with every word. "Your marriage was supposed to restore some dignity to this family, and now, because of your recklessness, we are back at square one. How could you send away dignified guests like that? Important people, people who we need to align with! And you?—"

"I don’t care," he cut in, his voice suddenly loud, the glass in his hand trembling slightly.

Helen froze, her anger momentarily replaced with disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"I said I don’t care," he repeated, his voice now hard, edged with something far darker. "Let them talk. Let them spread their little rumors. I couldn't care less what any of them think."

"You can’t mean that," she whispered, her shock giving way to anger once more. "Anthony, this is your life—our family's life—your estate, your legacy! Do you not see the consequences of your actions? These are not just 'little rumors,' these are?—"

"They could all go to hell for all I care," he snapped, his voice suddenly booming in the large room, silencing her mid-sentence.

Helen took a step back, her eyes wide with shock. Never in her life had her son spoken to her like this. Never had she seen such bitterness, such fury in his expression.

"Anthony..." she began, but he cut her off again.

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