Page 74 of A Duke to Steal Her
Swanwood barely glanced at him. “Ah, Your Grace. I was just admiring your lovely wife. Such… spirit.”
“Step away from her.”
“Possessive, aren’t we?” Swanwood’s smile turned ugly. “Though I suppose after the way you acquired her, you’d want to keep a tight leash.”
Ambrose’s blood turned to ice. “What did you say?”
“Well, we all know the story. Poor girl fleeing one altar, only to end up compromised by London’s most notorious rake.” Swanwood’s eyes glittered with malice. “Makes a man wonder just how accommodating she might be. After all, if she did marry the same Duke who scandalized her so easily?—”
The crack of Ambrose’s fist connecting with Swanwood’s jaw echoed through the ballroom. The man went down hard, blood streaming from his nose as conversations died around them.
“Ambrose!” Emily gasped.
“Anyone else care to discuss my wife’s virtue?” Ambrose called out, his voice carrying clearly across the suddenly silent room.
The crowd parted as Swanwood struggled to his feet, held upright by two other gentlemen.
“You’ll answer for this, Nightfell,” Swanwood snarled through his bloodied mouth.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Stop this,” Emily hissed, grabbing Ambrose’s arm. “Please.”
Whispers erupted like wildfire throughout the ballroom.
“Did you see the duke’s face?”
“Violent temper, just like his father…”
“Poor duchess, caught in another scandal…”
“Emily!”
The shriek came from across the room. Lady Ridgewell stood frozen for a moment, her face white as parchment, before crumpling to the floor in a dead faint.
“Mama!” Emily rushed toward her mother as several ladies gathered around with smelling salts.
Ambrose followed, his knuckles throbbing and his jaw clenched. He’d lost control completely, and now Emily would pay the price for his lack of restraint.
“Get her to the carriage,” he ordered curtly. “We’re leaving.”
“The scandal—” Emily began.
“Will be tomorrow’s gossip either way.” He lifted Lady Ridgewell effortlessly. “At least this way, you won’t have to endure the stares.”
As they made their way through the crowd, Ambrose caught sight of knowing smiles on several faces.
By tomorrow, all of London would be talking about the Duke of Nightfell’s violent temper and his scandalous wife.
He’d wanted to protect Emily’s honor. Instead, he’d destroyed what little peace they’d managed to build.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The physician’s voice droned softly in the hallway as Emily sat vigil beside her mother’s bed. Juliana and Ava flanked her on either side. Lady Ridgewell had remained unconscious during the ride to her home, her breathing shallow but steady.
When their mother’s eyes finally fluttered open, Emily felt a rush of relief.
“Mama,” she said softly, leaning forward. “How are you feeling?”
