Page 72 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Then we are at a stalemate, sir, because I will not allow you to abuse any member of my family including Lady Freya and Lady Isabella. I will also not allow you to hold an inheritance over me. The title is mine along with the lands that go with it. I am perfectly capable of looking after my family with what I already have. So, you and your butler can go to hell.”
The Duke’s face paled, and he reeled back in shock. “You mean to go back on your pledge? Are you that dishonorable a man?”
“I have made myself perfectly clear. You will keep a civil tongue in your head, or you can find someone else to give you an heir.”
The Duke stared at him, chest heaving with anger. “Fine. We shall be as polite as you wish,” he gritted out.
Eric smiled and decided in for a penny, in for a pound. “I would also like you to apologize to your daughters for your cruel treatment of them.”
Isabella squeaked, Freya gasped, and the Duke blanched. “I beg your pardon?”
“I believe you heard me quite clearly.”
He stared at the Duke, and the Duke stared back, neither willing to give an inch to the other. Freya looked from one to the other, her face anxious, while Isabella had her fork frozen halfway to her open mouth, also staring at them as if fascinated.
“Eric, it is fine; we don’t need an apology,” Freya tried to whisper, putting a hand on his arm.
He turned to look her in the eye. “You might not need one, but you certainly deserve one.”
Freya blushed bright pink and looked rather pleased. She squeezed his wrist hard before letting his hand go. Eric turned to look back at the Duke. “You have terrorized these girls for too long. You are about to die. Do you not think it’s time for some remorse?”
The Duke cackled, “Remorse? And what good would that do to me?”
“You would die with a clear conscience.”
“You assume my conscience is not clear. I stand by everything I have ever done.”
“Very well. If you are happy with how your daughters would speak of you to their children, then there’s nothing more I can do. An empty apology would mean nothing after all.”
The Duke furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes at Eric. He got to his feet abruptly and turned to the butler. “Ready my carriage. I am setting off to London at once.”
Silver bowed. “Yes, Your Grace," he said before marching out quite smartly.
Eric reached for the tea and poured himself a cup. “Have a safe journey, Your Grace.”
Freya cleared her throat, “Y-yes, safe journey, Father.” Her voice was hoarse as if she hadn’t spoken in years.
He ignored them both, merely stepping out of his seat and walking out of the room. There was a huge sigh from both Freya and Isabella as soon as he was gone. Freya turned to Eric, her eyes shining. “That is the single most terrifying thing I have ever seen.”
“Yes,” Isabella chimed in breathlessly. “I thought I might expire from how rapidly my heart was beating.” She clutched her heaving bosom in an illustration.
“I was only following your example,” Eric said, looking at Freya.
Freya’s jaw dropped. “My example? I…”
“You stood up to him, and I figured that it was about time I stood up to him, too. I have let him manipulate me for too long, and you as well. I want to apologize, Freya, even if your father wouldn’t. I should not have gone along with his scheme to force you to marry me. I thought you were just being a stubborn little chit that I was helping put in her place.”
Freya smiled wryly. “Well after our unfortunate introduction, I can hardly blame you for thinking that.”
Eric smiled back. “It was rather… memorable.”
Freya cocked her head to the side, looking him up and down. “It seems you exited our chambers quite hastily. Would you like to… go and finish your breakfast upstairs?”
Eric’s eyes widened in surprise. “I think I would. Perhaps you could join me?”
“Thank you. I think I will.”
Eric got to his feet and held out his hand for Freya to take, so he could pull her to her feet. He offered her his arm as they walked out of the room, and Isabella rolled her eyes.
