Page 70 of The Wrong Duke

“Do you care to test that theory, you insufferable rodent?”

“How dare —”

“Or two,” Evan spoke over him, taking a step forward and forcing Lord Lindstone to retreat.

“You remain in my debt,” Evan said coolly. “You work for me how I see fit – and I promise you, you detestable worm, it will not be pleasant. It will not be befitting your station. But work it will be. It will take some time, years by my guess, but you will work it off. Oh, I promise that you will. And as to your daughters — both of them — they no longer answer to you. You no longer own them. It will be as if you were never lucky enough to sire children, married to the job because for the rest of your days that is all you will have to cling to.”

Lord Lindstone didn’t answer, but that was just because he couldn’t. He cowered back, eyes wide as he searched the room for an ally, an escape, some means of getting himself out of this hole that he had dug. But those who stood beneath the stage cast their eyes elsewhere, refusing to look at him because he had become poison, and none of these men wished to be associated with such filth.

Evan glared ruefully, standing over him, suffocating him with a force of will that was like water being poured over an open flame.

“And there is one more thing,” Evan then said.

“Wh — what?”

He had debated if he should do it or not. For the past two days, ever since he’d learned the truth, he’d imagined this situation a hundred times over. It almost always went the same way, always ended in victory, but the final stroke was one that Evan wasn’t so sure of. The battle was won. The war was over. Anything more was pure vanity, giving in to his emotions which were nowhere near as fiery as they had been when he’d first learned of Lord Lindstone’s link to his brother’s death.

And he almost didn’t do it. Miss Baker stood beside him. She reached out and pulled her sister in close, holding her and whispering into her ear that all would be fine. The mood in the room shifted toward repulsion, whispers starting, judgmental glares all fixed on Lord Lindstone. Very nearly, Evan didn’t commit his final act. That was until he did.

He curled his fist into a ball and threw it with force at Lord Lindstone’s exposed jaw. The blow was true, striking him full in the face.

“Argh!” Lord Lindstone cried and stumbled back, hand reaching for his jaw, eyes set wide as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. “How dare you!”

“That was for my brother,” Evan said coldly. “And this —” He threw a second punch. Harder. Truer as it struck him clean in the nose. It had the Lord crying out as he stumbled and fell backward, landing on his fat buttocks, rolling onto his back, shaking the stage as his full weight collapsed like a sack of flour. “This was for Miss Baker.”

There was no smile on Evan’s lips as he looked down at the Lord. No look of triumph. He didn’t gloat or smirk or bother kicking the man when he was down. The way Lord Lindstone quivered on the floor, holding his face and shielding himself in fright as he whimpered, he didn’t think there was much need. It was over.

And then, with nothing else to say, Evan took Miss Baker by the hand, ensured that she had her little sister’s held tight, and led her from the stage. He wanted to pull her in and kiss her. He wanted to hold her and tell her that from this point onwards, all would be all right. He wanted... he wanted to do so many things, but before he did any of that, he wanted to leave this place behind and never come back.

So, that’s exactly what they did.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

Evan didn’t even remember picking Miss Baker up, but by the time they reached his carriage, she was in his arms, and he had to resist the urge to walk around the block because he didn’t want to let her go and knew that once they were inside the carriage, he’d have to.

It seemed that she was of the same mind, however. The driver opened the door for them, Bridget was the first one to climb in, and once Evan lifted Miss Baker inside and placed her down on the seat, she was quick to climb into his lap, wrap her arms around his neck, and hold on as if for dear life. And there she stayed as the carriage started down the street, moving at a gentle clip, rocking back and forth such that he thought for a moment that she might have fallen asleep on his lap.

On the other side of the carriage sat Bridget, Miss Baker’s younger sister. Inside that horrible room, she had seemed like a mouse cornered by a cat. Shaking the entire time. Shoulders hunched over. Refusing to look anywhere but at her feet. It was a wonder she hadn’t shed so much as a single tear, but now that she had been saved, Evan could see why that was. She wore a smile as she shuffled to the edge of her seat and looked out the window, a sense almost that she had known something like this might happen and was now relishing how right she had been. Or maybe, most likely, she was stronger than she looked. At least as strong as Miss Baker.

Speaking of which...

She sat curled in his lap, both arms around his neck, head buried into his chest as her breathing slowly steadied. He stoked her soft hair, kissed the top of her head, and wanted to ask her how she was and if she was all right, but figured that she would speak when she was ready. For now, it seemed that she was happy to simply hold him so that he would know that she was his and he was hers.

“You saved us...” she said suddenly, her voice soft, barely audible.

“What was that?” Evan shifted slightly.

She forced herself to sit up so she could look in his eyes. The dark blue glimmered from withheld tears, tinges of happiness mixed with a look that he wouldn’t have recognized until a few days ago because it was one that he himself had never known until then. Love.

“You saved us,” she said again. Behind her, Bridget was careful to remain looking out the window, happy to pretend as if she was not there because this moment needed to be for Evan and Miss Baker alone. “I thought... for a moment I didn’t know...”

“Hey.” He smiled and stroked her hair. “Of course, I did.”

“I should have known you would. I’m so sorry I didn’t —”

“Don’t ever apologize,” he told her. Her chin trembled as she licked her lips, and all he wanted to do was kiss them, a means of finalizing what had happened. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“But —”

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