Page 3 of The Duke's Sinful Bride

Yvette’s breathing quickened, but she didn’t step back. “You think blood will make the stain on her honor go away? What about the pain you’ll cause should you kill my brother, Your Grace? You’re going to orphan his son!”

The duke froze, her words striking a nerve he hadn’t anticipated. The grip on his pistol tightened, and he stared at her, his jaw clenched tightly.

“I won’t remind ye to step aside again,” the duke said, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “This duel will go on as intended.”

He raised his pistol once more, his eyes fixed on Edward, but Yvette moved again, placing herself directly in his line of sight. Her arms spread wide, shielding her brother completely.

“Isn’t your daughter motherless?” she cried, her voice trembling. “Do you wish to inflict that pain on another child?”

The duke froze once more.

For a brief, agonizing moment, he was silent.

He looked at her, then at Edward. Fury burned in his eyes, but it seemed as though the weight of her words had landed—and hard.

The tension between them was suffocating despite the vast space around them. Edward suddenly broke the silence, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke.

“Forgive my sister, Killian. She knows not of what she speaks. But I swear on my honor, I didn’t ruin Fiona.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed, a steely glare directed at the man standing behind his sister. The weight of his disbelief was palpable, his lips curling into a grimace.

“It’s too late for excuses,” he snapped, his voice thick with disdain. “Do ye take me for a fool? Ye think mere words will absolve ye of what ye’ve done?”

Edward’s jaw tightened, and he took a hesitant step forward. “I swear to you, Killian—I did not do what I’ve been accused of.”

Yvette whipped her head toward her brother, a deep frown settling on her face.

Her chest tightened as her mind raced back to her own past, to the day her fiancé had sworn he’d never wronged her. He had been so convincing, his lies wrapped in honeyed words, his pleas for understanding delivered with precision. And the world had believed him over her.

She’d been cast aside, her reputation shredded while he walked away unscathed. The mere memory made her stomach churn.

“Edward,” she said sharply, her voice dripping with disdain. “Stop this. Stop being likehim.”

Edward flinched at her tone, but she pressed on.

“Take responsibility for what you’ve done and tell the truth.”

Edward seemed to struggle with her words, raking his fingers through his disheveled hair, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of the world pressed down on him.

“Iamtelling the truth,” he said at last, his voice low but firm. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes pleading with her to believe him. “I swear on the life of my child—I did not do any of this.”

Yvette’s breath caught. Swearing on the life of his child was not something Edward would do lightly, but could she trust him? Her own experiences had taught her to doubt, to question every word spoken by a man defending himself.

She swallowed hard and shook her head, the lines between anger and confusion blurring.

“Then explain, brother,” she demanded, her voice trembling with frustration and desperation.

The duke let out a harsh, humorless laugh, his shoulders rising as he took a slow, deliberate step forward.

The look in his eyes was one of pure fury.

“I don’t care for explanations,” he said, his tone cutting like a blade. “No excuse changes what’s already been done. My sister’s name is ruined—irreparably so. That’s the truth of it, no matter what pretty lies ye spin.”

Edward’s eyes darted to Yvette, as if he searched for some sign of sympathy.

Yvette took a step back, folding her arms across her chest.

“If you didn’t do it,” she said quietly, “then make us understand how and why you’ve been accused.”

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