Page 38 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke
“You! I mean, Your Grace! You... you struck me!”
He seemed torn between outrage and servility.
“Yes, you worm. I struck you and will do worse. Return to your home or I shall horsewhip you next,” Damien grated.
“My carriage has returned to my house,” Sutherland said, getting to his feet.
“Walk,” Damien commanded.
“It is raining...” Sutherland began.
Damien seized the rogue by the lapels of his coat, putting his face close to Sutherland's.
“Walk in the rain or I shall call you out and you will be dead within the hour,” he hissed.
Sutherland's mouth went slack and his eyes bulged.
“You cannot… I mean to say... would not...”
“I am theDuke of Redmane. Are you not aware of the stories that are told about me? They do not cover a tenth of my infamy. You spoke of my reversal of fortune, the fires...?”
“I...I...” Sutherland stammered, clawing at the grip that had now shifted to his throat.
“That was nounfortunateaccident,” Damien whispered, his face inches from Sutherland’s now. “Those fires were setdeliberately.”
He let the words land in Sutherland's mind.
“I will... I will... you will not...” Sutherland tried to speak around the constriction of his throat but could manage no more than a choked stammer.
“You will say nothing or you will wake up one night choking on smoke and roasting in your bed. Your games here are done. Leave and do not return. You shall be hearing from my solicitor concerning the Montrose's but you will never return to Montrose Hall.”
He shoved hard and Sutherland fell backward, splashing to the ground and scrambling away on all fours.
“But it is my house!” he screeched.
“Get you gone!” Damien roared, taking a threatening step.
Sutherland turned, scrambled to his feet, and took off running into the rain. Damien waited until he could no longer hear the panicked footfalls, then he went back inside. He reached the kitchen to find Elsie sitting at the table with her hands around a steaming mug. Another mug sat on the table opposite her. Damien made to sit but she pointed to his soaking wet coat.
“Remove that, if you don't mind, Your Grace. The scullery maid has a hard enough job without you dripping water everywhere.”
Damien shrugged off the coat and laid it next to the sink where its drips would drain harmlessly away. He took his seat.
“Yes, your ladyship,” he replied wryly.
Elsie pursed her lips.
“I haven't had much practice at being a servant. It don't come natural. And besides, you want something so I think I've got leeway.”
Damien sipped his tea. “You are correct. You do have the upper hand in that I want something and have already given you leave to refuse me. For the record, I find your candor refreshing. I can see why you were chosen by Emma as her maid. And why she considers you so indispensable that you travel with her to a luncheon not far from her home.”
“Who says I was chosen?” Elsie arched a brow. “As to the other, I have friends in service here and she knew I would enjoy an opportunity to have lunch with them while the toffs eat upstairs.”
Damien took a deep breath. Time to set his cards on the table. “Isay she chose you. You are no employee of Silas Sutherland, else she would not be so trusting with you. The Earl is rather spendthrift, and by his loose dress code, has not even bothered to hire a permanent valet as part of his skeleton staff. Therefore, you are most likely paid by Emma with her pinmoney. Ergo, she asked you to be her maid.
“Concerning the vague circumstances surrounding her sabbatical and the fact she has not confided in many since returning to Hertfordshire, I would also wager you were hired before orduringher sabbatical too. She chose you.”
Elsie gaped, wide-eyed for a moment. Then shrugged. “I don't know what ergo means, but yes, she asked me during hersabbaticaland I accepted. I didn't have much as a nurse, and...”
