Page 54 of Three Nights with the Beastly Duke

Her stomach seemed to lurch, and for a moment, she thought she was going to be sick and gagged. Only then did Timothy let her go and pushed her upper half off of the bed so that her head hung off the edge. Still feeling groggy, she kicked at him, making contact with his groin.

A growl of displeasure erupted from Timothy as he let her go, and Lavinia slid the rest of the way to the floor. She looked around wildly, trying to get her bearings, and suddenly realized she knew where she was.

Not in Whitekin, where she belonged, but far from it.

Timothy’s father and hers had hunted together for many years, and this was the cabin they’d stayed in when they were in the countryside. She knew by the knickknacks on the hearth and the deer heads on the wall that this was the place, and her fear continued to blossom.

Praying for strength, she pulled herself up to her feet and shakily began to walk to the nearby table. As she did, she realized she was no longer wearing her gown from last night, but only the chemise that had been under it. Lavinia searched her memories frantically, trying to remember what had happened.

“Timothy, what have you done?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

“There’s nowhere to go,” Timothy stated through ragged breaths. “Your husband doesn’t want you anymore. No one knows you’re here. And you cannot get out. This place only has one key for all of the locks and it is in my possession.”

Ignoring him, Lavinia staggered to the door and began fumbling with the several locks in place, trying her best to get them undone.

“I told you that beast was bad for you,” Timothy went on, his voice closer now.

Lavinia turned, her head spinning with dizziness once more as she pressed her back against the door. The look in Timothy’s eyes—that of wild derangement—suddenly triggered her memory, and it all came flooding back to her. The study, the brandy. The fear she had felt in her body and soul as she realized she couldn’t move.

“All you had to do was wait.” Timothy sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Timothy, please,” Lavinia urged.

“Emily is going to be dead in a few months,” Timothy went on. “It was going to appear as unfortunate kidney failure thanks to her penchant for sweets and wine. The poison I’ve been giving her works slowly, but the result resembles a more natural death.”

“No,” Lavinia whispered, her heart breaking for the young woman who had married her once best friend.

“Once she was gone and I took the appropriate amount of time to mourn, I would have taken you on as my new wife. With her inheritance and yours, we would have lived a wonderful life.”

Timothy said this part almost sweetly, his eyes glazing over. As if the thought brought him pleasure. Then, his eyes darkened once more, and in a flash, his hand was tight around Lavinia’s throat. She let out a strangled gasp as she felt the air in her lungs become trapped.

“Then you just had to meddle with Rebecca’s intended marriage with thatthing,”he hissed in disgust. “You had to swoop in and save your vapid baby sister. You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”

Lavinia’s hands clawed at Timothy’s wrist, her nails pulling slivers of flesh away. Timothy let out a low growl, but his grip didn’t loosen.

“I gave you every opportunity to come away freely!” he roared, lifting her off her feet. “And you just couldn’t do it. Youpitiedthe broken beast instead,stupidlygiving him your love instead of me.”

As quickly as he’d snatched her throat, he let it go, and Lavinia dragged in a breath and coughed as her feet dropped to the ground.

“Yes, I did!” Lavinia said through sputtering coughs. “I love Arthur, Timothy. Not you!”

“You used to love me!” Timothy roared back furiously, his eyes glittering with rage.

“Not like that,” Lavinia replied, shaking her head as she wrapped her hand protectively around her throat. “Never like that. You were my friend. You were the older brother I never had and often sorely wanted.”

Timothy said nothing as he continued to glare at her for a long moment, then he took a long breath in through his nostrils and ran a hand through his wild hair. He then turned from her and walked to the cabinet of hunting rifles and pistols that was braced beside the fireplace.

“You will change your mind,” he stated calmly, pulling one of the pistols ever so delicately from its velvet-lined holder. He caressed the barrel softly as if it were a lover.

“By the time we reach Italy, you will change your mind.”

“Italy?” Lavinia echoed, feeling her panic rise up in her again.

“Not even Emily knows of the little villa my father had there,” Timothy explained. “It was one of the few holdings he didn’t squander before his death. It sits in the lovely countryside, far away from any town or village.” He looked up at her, smiling wide. “No one will be able to interfere with us there. And in our solitude, you will see you can love me.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

Two Days Later

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