Page 51 of Her Devil of a Duke
“What is it?” Petra asked at Evelyn’s side. “Is something wrong?”
“Evelyn!” Mr. Windham barked her name.
Both Evelyn and Petra flinched.
“So, this is where you have been hiding?” he yelled out into the entrance hall of the castle.
Evelyn shuffled through the hallway, not thinking about what she was doing. All she could focus on was the sight of his anger, with his eyes bulging so much she could see the whites around them.
“You have decidedly become a common lady of the night, have you?”
“Mr. Windham–” She tried to protest, but her voice was quiet, and he marched up the staircase all too easily, as if he owned the place. He reached for her wrist, gripping it tightly, before dragging her back toward the front door.
“My Lady,” Petra murmured, hurrying behind her. “Shall I tell the master?”
“What? No!” Evelyn said in sudden panic. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than Rafe and Mr. Windham coming face to face at this moment. “I… I was leaving anyway. Please, do not bother the duke with this.”
“You disgust me,” Mr. Windham carried on as if their conversation had not happened at all. He towed her out onto the step in front of the house, looking her up and down. “Your virtue is gone, is it not?”
She blushed bright red, feeling the heat raging in her cheeks as she stared at him.
I thought he was a man of propriety…
She saw at once how wrong she had been about such an assumption. Had he not kissed another woman at a ball? Was he not looking at her now as if she were some courtesan?
“Get in,” he ordered, dragging her down the rest of the steps.
Evelyn struggled to carry her bag and follow him at such a brisk pace. She was in danger of tripping over the hem of her gown as she was dragged after him. Behind her, Petra still followed, her eyes wide with her own fear, though she remained silent this time.
As they reached the carriage, Mr. Windham flung the door open.
“In!” he ordered again.
“How–how did you find me here?” Evelyn asked, desperate now. Mr. Windham showed no sign of having heard her. Instead, he released her hand and hooked his arm around her waist, forcing her into the carriage. “Mr. Windham! I am not some toy to manhandle around!”
“You are a woman. A fallen woman, from what I can tell,” he hissed in her ear. “Any right you had to be treated like a lady is gone. In, now, before I toss you in there!” Despite his words, he grappled her in any way.
“My Lady!” Petra called with panic again.
“It’s all right, Petra,” Evelyn called back to her, not sure what else to say. What could the maid possibly do to help her now? Nothing. She would only put herself in harm's way if she tried.
Evelyn fell into the carriage as Mr. Windham shoved her harshly in the back. For a second, she fell on her knees, feeling the pain radiate up her thighs as she compared that harsh shove in her back to all the soft and passionate touches Rafe had ever given her. He had treated her like she was a delicacy to him, and she had begun to take it for granted.
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that despite the fact Rafe had lied to her, her heart still cared for him. Perhaps it explained why she was so angry with the revelation. Because she cared for him so much.
“Sit. I won’t have you kneeling on the floor like a dog.” Mr. Windham took her shoulder and forced her onto the bench. “Though I shudder to think how much you have already been on your knees while you’ve been here.”
His suggestion had her cringing, wincing away from his touch as she cowered back on the bench.
The door was slammed shut with finality, and Mr. Windham banged his fist against the side of the carriage. Evelyn moved to the window of the coach, looking out to see Petra tearfully waving at her, still full of fear. Evelyn waved back, before her eyes darted to the house. Desperately, she longed for one last glance of Rafe, one thing to keep her heart beating for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Remember the truth.She reminded herself.I was one of many women to him. I was nothing more.
“I cannot believe this,” Mr. Windham muttered repeatedly. “What kind of woman have you become? You? You of all people, Evelyn? The woman who is more like a mouse than a lady at all.”
“I beg your pardon?” She jerked her head toward him in disgust, her jaw hanging open. “If you think so ill of me, so little of me, why come to reclaim me from that house?”
She had so many questions, such as how he had known she was there in the first place, but this was the question that burned in her mind more than anything.
