Page 109 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
“And howareye settling into being a duke, Yer Grace?”
The other man’s expression turned thunderous, and Fawkes stepped in front of Ellie once more, thinking to protect her. He had no idea why Thorne would be so angry at becoming a duke…
“Ye asked why I’m here? I have something for ye.”
When Fawkes’s gaze darted about, looking for an eviction notice, he entirely missed Thorne’s intent.
The other man stepped forward, wound up, and drove a fist into Fawkes’s stomach.Hard.
Fawkes stumbled backward, arse slamming into the banister, causing the garland to fall down around his shoulders. Bent double, gasping, his brain seemed to freeze, unable to process what was happening.
Whatwashappening?
“Fawkes!” cried Ellie, throwing her arm around him and trying to extricate him from the Attack of the Greenery. “Are you—can you breathe? Why would you do that?”
He had to assume she was yelling at Thorne, and wanted to ask the same thing.
The tops of Thorne’s boots stepped into position in front of him, and the man’s voice sounded full of barely contained anger when he said, “Sorry, Danielle, but I am royally pissed off—ducallypissed off, I guess I should say—and I would really rather appreciate it if ye would step over to the side for just a moment so I can have it out with Fawkes.”
“I willnot.” But she did straighten. “I am not going to step aside so you can batter the man I lo—batter an innocent man. He has done nothing!”
Thorne ignored her and stepped closer to Fawkes, who was straightening with a barely suppressed groan. When was the last time he’d been hit so hard?
“Yebastard,” snarled Thorne, reaching for his collar and shaking him. “Ye completebastard.”
“No’ a secret,” gasped Fawkes.Everyoneknew he was a bastard, knew his mother’s shame. That was why she’d been banished here to the Highlands, for the crime of refusing to hide her pregnancy from Society.
Thorne shook him again. This close, he could see the agony in the other man’s expression. The nose, which was hooked like Fawkes’s. The lips, curled into a snarl.
Like Fawkes’s.
“Why did ye no’ tell me?” came Thorne’s agonized whisper, gaze darting between Fawkes’s eyes. “In all the time I’ve kenned ye, why did ye no’ tell me ye were my cousin?”
Cousin.
Dimly, Fawkes heard Ellie gasp as she put it together. “Your—your father was the Duke of Stroken?”
He broke Thorne’s hold using a move Blackrose himself had taught him and stepped back, shaking his head as he kicked the fallen garland. “I’m no’—” he began, but Thorne interrupted him.
“Ye cannae lie to me this time, Fawkes. Ye ken it. I ken it. Ye ken I ken it.”
From behind him, Ellie spoke, “I do not ken—I mean,knowit.”
Thorne was still watching him, his expression more sad than angry. “Ye are my uncle’s son, aye? The illegitimate son of the Duke of Stroken?”
Swallowing, Fawkes looked away. “It’s no’ a particular secret. Hell, it was even in the blurb.”
Thorne shook his head. “I have nae idea what ye’re talking about.Inever kenned it. Ye might have mentioned it! I grew up without brothers, without really spending time with my legitimate cousin. And then I met ye, thanks to Effinghell, anddammit, Fawkes,Ilikedye! Ye’re smart and interesting and—”
“Ye came here to flatter me?” Fawkes growled.
But Thorne pulled his hand from his head and dragged his fingers through his golden hair. “I came here to punch ye, I was so angry. Fook, Fawkes! All this time, and ye never mentioned.”
“Yer Grace—” Fawkes began stiffly, but Thorne snarled, “Dinnae call me that!” and the words echoed around the foyer.
Ellie stepped up, slipping her hand into Fawkes’s. “Then what would you like us to call you?”
“I…Christ.” Thorne dragged his hand through his hair again, then met Fawkes’s wary gaze. “I’m still yer friend.Cousin. Just call me…”
