Page 46 of My Dangerous Duke

A sob escaped her throat as she shook her head vehemently. Her eyes were rimmed brightly with red, yet no tears fell. She was shaking visibly from her pent-up emotion, and when it looked like she was about to crumble, he could not stop himself from going to her.

“Do not dare touch me,” Eleanor commanded, her voice trembling as she put one hand up and took several steps back. Her eyes were nearly red with rage as she looked at him with pure betrayal.

Xander forced his body to stop, his heart immediately screaming in protest.

“Honey,” he rasped, his voice thick and rough in his throat as his heart began to hammer, “Please, I-”

Without another word, Eleanor turned and left his study, thrusting the door open with so much force that crashed loudly into the wall on the other side, making him flinch.

Not sure what to do, Xander stood completely still. He had always controlled everyone, everything. And now suddenly it was as if he could not control anything at all. Not Richard. Not the blackmail. Not his wife… not his feelings.

“It hurts, does it not?”

Xander brought his head up, a sense of numbness filling him as he saw Richard leaning against the doorframe.

“You will leave if you know what is good for you,” Xander warned.

He had never felt this type of emotion before. It swallowed him whole and suffocated all breath and logical thought. Gone. It was all gone. And he did not trust himself to stop if he got his hands on his Richard.

“An eye for an eye, cousin,” Richard said bitterly, pushing away from the doorframe to leave. “You forced me away from my love. Now I have forced you away from yours.”

Chapter 21

“Eleanor? Darling?” Penelope called as she opened the door to the armory.

After her own sister turned her away, Eleanor had been residing with Penelope and Rhysand for less than a week now but she still refused to talk about Xander.

Inside, the armory of Penelope and Rhysand’s home, Eleanor did not turn away from her target. Instead, she chucked another dagger toward the center. From behind her, she felt Penelope’s eyes on her. Her friend was no doubt worried. She had wanted Eleanor to talk immediately, but when she had first arrived, she could not do so without her voice quaking. Now, though, her pain had turned to anger, and that was something she could deal with.

“How are you feeling?” Penelope asked tentatively. “Are you- are you ready to talk?”

“Yes.” She grit out, picking up another blade, her eyes full of enraged focus. “I knew it could not be real and I fell for it anyway!”

When she had first arrived, Penelope and even Rhysand had corralled her into their parlor, plying her with food and drink and questions. Eleanor had not been able to take it; not ready to just sit and stew, she requested to retire. Once she was shown to her guest room, however, she found herself with nothing to do but pace the floor and contemplate what baubles she could smash without hurting her friends’ feelings.

In her growing frustration, she had flung open the window and screamed with all her might; the rage pouring from her throat. It was then Rhysand had a servant sent up to her, urging her to take her frustrations out in his armory. She had been reluctant at first, thinking that she would be made to box like Xander- a sport she did not much care for. But instead, Rhysand and Penelope met her by the target. After a quick tutorial on how to throw, Eleanor quickly discovered that not only did the exercise make her feel better physically, but it also untangled the utter mess in her mind.

She hurled the knife again, but this one did not stick. Instead, it clanged sideways into the knives already stuck into the board and brought them all clattering to the ground. A servant, who had been standing well off to the right, walked to the board and began to collect them.

“Eleanor, honey, come have a seat,” Penny implored, heading toward their makeshift tea table, “You have been throwing forhours today. You need to eat something and give your arms a rest.”

“Do not call me honey,” Eleanor implored, sounding more emotional than angry for the first time since she had arrived as she whirled toward Penny. “He called me that.”

Eleanor’s voice broke as she let out the four words, and Penelope was by her side in an instant. She tightly wrapped her in her arms, and though she was thankful Eleanor accepted her hug, she wished her friend would just cry already.

In her friend’s arms, Eleanor felt the rest of her resolve wane. The tears she had choked back since leaving Larsen finally welled their way to the surface and ripped through her eyes and throat with a vengeance. Her first sob felt like a shot to her chest as she finally released it, and she felt herself sag into Penny’s embrace.

“Damn him,” she whispered at first, feeling the tears flood down her cheeks. Then, as she pulled away from Penny’s hug and turned away she screamed “Damn them both!”

It was not just Xander’s fault she was in such a predicament; though his betrayal somehow hurt far worse. It was her father’s too. If he did not need to be better than anyone else, she would have never been put in such a position. She could have married for love. She could have been truly happy- not whatever facade Xander had given her.

This was all just business from the start.

Eleanor had thought- for a moment, that he truly was falling in love with her. That she was falling in love with him. She had built a fantasy about whatever scheme that tied them together; where it would just fade away one day and they would justbetogether.

She had been wrong. Very wrong.

Disgusted with how her body heaved its sorrow, Eleanor worked to reign her tears back in. She buried her pain deep, covering it with her rage, and drew in deep, heavy breaths as she went back to the dart board. As he had so many times already, the servant had collected the knives she had thrown and placed them neatly back on her table.

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