Page 8 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

“Your Grace?” he murmured, his voice squeaking in surprise.

“You dare try to compromise this lady, and you will answer to me.” Philip thrust the man away.

“But —”

“Go back to the ball. Now!” Philip barked at the gentleman. He looked around, waiting for Violet to run up to them and demand what was going on, but she had mysteriously vanished from the lawn entirely.

Some chaperone she turned out to be.

“Your Grace, honestly, I meant no harm.” The Marquess was now holding his hands up in defense. “The Lady and I were just talking.”

“And that’s just how it looked without a chaperone, wasn’t it?” Philip said scathingly. “Go,” he commanded again, as if he was ordering a dog around.

Offended, the gentleman scurried back. He rearranged his cravat, his face meek and mild, and with that expression, familiarity clicked into place.

I know who you are.

It was the Marquess of Morton. With this realization came understanding, so much so that Philip could have roared with laughter, for Grace had never been in any danger at all. Any temptation to laugh at his mistake diminished in an instant, for he felt Grace swipe him around the arm.

“What the hell did you do that for?” She threw the words at him. She was wearing another one of those ridiculous gowns that were too big for her and that hid her curvy figure far too much. She had to grab the shoulder and shift it up before it fell off again and revealed too much.

“What? No ‘thank you’ for defending your honor?” he pointed out drily. “I would have thought that even you, Grace —”

“Even me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“That evenyou,”he emphasized, taking a step toward her, suddenly aware of just how close he had come to her, “would see the outrageousness of what you were doing out here alone with a gentleman at night. It’s scandalous, and with many men, you would have been in danger.”

“I needed no such protection. I-I knew what I wanted,” she stammered, her eyes wild and flashing with fury.

“And what was that, Grace? Hmm?” he urged her on. “A chance to be ruined? For your reputation to be in tatters around you?”

“I was only after a kiss!”

The words hit him as if she had kicked him in the chest.

“What did you just say?”

CHAPTER3

Why the hell did I confess that to him of all people?

Tongue-tied, Grace stumbled. She had to work hard not to fall over again as she increased the distance between herself and the Duke of Berkley.

He was staring at her in such astonishment that she felt smaller than she had ever before, as tiny as a mouse. Hurriedly, she pulled the shoulder of her dress up, stopping it from where it had slipped. His eyes slid to what she had done.

“What did you say?” he repeated the words when she made no intention of answering him.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She looked away, intent on finding Violet and getting out of here as soon as possible, but strangely, Violet was nowhere to be seen. Needing to escape, Grace rounded the bench she had been seated on with Lord Morton, doing her best to get away.

“What did you mean, Grace?” The Duke cut her off, walking the other way to halt her escape.

“Out of my way.”

“No.”

“So gentlemanly as always.” She stepped up onto the bench and dropped down the other side, her quickest way to escape.

“So ladylike as always,” he said with much more of an undertone than had been in her own voice. Rage shot through her as she came to a sudden stop. She spun on her heel in the dewy grass, turning to look at him.

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