Page 114 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

“It was rather entertaining to watch you at first,” he told her. “You were like a brilliant fire, like the sun on a dreary day. Like a bird, you would flit from suitor to suitor, never quite in anyone’s grasp.”

“I did not want any of you,” she spat, glaring venomously at him.

“I should have known that a woman like you would never choose well,” he snarled. “I watched you foryears. You were mine. But then you had to go and marry that damned Wolf.”

Hudson is ten times the man you will ever be!

Scarlett bit back the retort hovering on the tip of her tongue. He still had her in his grasp. It would not be wise to taunt him further. Heaven only knew what it would take to tip him over the edge of sanity.

“That maid of yours—how fortunate that she talks too much.” He smiled sinisterly. “Imagine my delight when I discovered that she was related to a servant of mine—and that you had yet to consummate your marriage to that animal. Perhaps,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “there is still a chance to rectify this situation.”

“We are past all that now,” she told him. Her neck ached from being held at such an angle, but she would never give him the satisfaction of getting the best of her. “And my maid, for as much as she talks, does not know everything.”

“What do you mean?” His pallid face turned three shades paler.

She smiled at him. “The Duke of Wolverton is my husband in truth,” she told him. “Our marriage was consummated very recently, and I have you and Alexander to thank for that.”

“You lying harlot!” he yelled. “That beast would never dare lay his filthy hands on you.”

“And why wouldn’t he? He is my husband, and you will never have me!”

She winced as he tightened his grip on her hair. Her scalp felt on fire.

“You!” he snarled. “You filthy?—”

Scarlett could swear she saw stars. She struggled against his grip, but he was too strong for her. If she could reach out, she might be able to claw at his face. She might?—

There was a loud explosion, followed by a roar that seemed to shake the entire manor to its rafters.

“Take your filthy hands off my wife or lose them!”

She smiled and sobbed in relief.

He was here. Her Wolf. Her husband.

And he was furious as hell.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Rage unlike anything he had ever known filled Hudson. It flowed molten into his veins, demanding blood.

The sight of Scarlett, pale, frightened, and in pain was far worse than the memories of his mother suffering at the hands of his abusive father.

He would kill the bastard who dared to lay his hands on her and with great pleasure.

“Ah, look, my dear. Your loyal dog has finally arrived,” Lord Colton sneered. “But how could he hurt me when I have you in my grasp?”

Hudson was going to tear the cur apart limb from limb. And then he would feed his carcass to the wild animals that roamed the woods. There would not be a piece of him left to bury once he was done with him.

But before that, he must rescue Scarlett.

Her wide eyes met his. He saw the fear in those brilliant blue eyes, and his heart clenched. But there was a fierceness in them that Lord Colton had also underestimated—just as he had underestimated every magnificent bit of her.

When the Marquess’s grip relaxed by an infinitesimal degree, his fierce little cat let out a battle cry as she dragged her fingernails all over his gloating face.

Lord Colton let out a howl of pain and rage as he covered his face with his hands.

“You filthy woman!” he spat.

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