Page 8 of Captured By the Cold Duke
Thomas took a few steady breaths. They still had an hour’s journey to Mayfair, surely he could make her see reason by then!
“Short of blackmailing Lord Breckenridge into silence—which mind you might still not keep him from eventually wagging his tongue—there was nothing we could do to save you from being ruined.”
“Don’t pretend this was selfless on your part!”
“Of course not. I would lose my sense of honor, my friendship with Aidan, if not my life at his hands.”
“So, while I empathize with you, you need to get over your refusal to accept the reality of the situation.”
She gave him a very cold look, then turned back around. “I think we should go faster,” she snapped after a moment. “It looks like rain, and we don’t want to get trapped outside if there is going to be a thunderstorm.”
Despite the coolness of her tone, Thomas could hear an edge of fear in it. Lady Cherie had been deathly afraid of thunderstorms as a child. She must still be afraid of them, he thought wonderingly.
He would have liked to have commented on this, to have reminded her that he knew about this foible of hers and had helped her overcome it in the past, but her body language was so angry and unforgiving that he didn’t dare.
“I shall make haste,” he said instead, and urged the horse to move faster.
When they arrived at Vaston Manor, it was nearly midnight. Far too late for Thomas to come in and have a word with Charles Norton. That, however, didn’t stop him.
“You’re coming in?” Lady Cherie asked, as he dismounted his horse.
“Of course I am,” he said gruffly. “I want to make sure your cousin understands how things will be from now on.”
“Tell Norton I am here to see him,” Thomas said to the butler as they handed him their riding cloaks. “And tell him I have brought back Lady Cherie.”
Several minutes after they had settled into the parlor, Norton appeared in the hallway, looking irate. He had barely opened his mouth to launch into whatever tirade he had planned for Lady Cherie when Thomas cut him off.
“You are a disgrace to your family name, Mr. Norton,” he snarled, advancing on Charles and cutting off his direct line of sight to Lady Cherie. “If I didn’t want to spare Lady Cherie and His Grace the scandal, then I would call you out at once for what you did to Lady Cherie.”
“Wh-what are you talking about, Lord Casserly?” Norton sputtered, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the furious duke.
“It’s Duke Wheaton now,” Thomas snarled, enjoying the look of surprise and horror on the man’s face. “And you know exactlywhat I am talking about. Selling Lady Cherie’s hand in marriage to a man as detestable as the Earl of Rochford. It is beyond the pale!”
Norton flushed with anger, and he puffed himself up. “What I do with my cousin’s hand in marriage is none of your concern!” he exclaimed. “She is mine to do with what I will!”
“She is mine!” Thomas shouted, his anger getting the better of him. The whole house seemed to echo with his shout, and the chandelier above them rattled dangerously. Norton even took a step back, alarmed. Behind him, he heard Lady Cherie shift, but he didn’t dare look at her.
“His Grace did not put you in charge, besides, she is my family.”
“No, but she is, however, my fiancée.”
“Your—?”
“Yes, my fiancée.” Thomas stood up straighter, delighting in the look of pure astonishment on Norton’s face. “It was not public knowledge yet, which is why she came to me today after hearing of your disgraceful behavior. She begged me to make the engagement public, even though the banns have not yet been read. So, I am here, telling you: the lady is my fiancée, and therefore off limits to you or anyone else.”
“But—Your Grace! I did not know! And you have been in India.” Norton’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How could you be engaged when you have been on the far side of the world?”
“The engagement is a long-standing one,” Thomas said at once, thinking fast. “Confirmed in our letters. But that is of no concern to you. What is your concern is apologizing profusely to the lady for treating her so abominably. When the Duke of Vaston hears of this, I would not be surprised if he called you out himself!”
“I-I am so deeply sorry, Your Grace!” Norton spluttered. “I did not mean for it to happen! It was the earl, he tricked me!” Tears gathered in Norton’s eyes, and Thomas felt a deep disgust. “He got me drunk and cheated at cards! He took everything from me, Your Grace, everything! I had no choice but to give him the most valuable thing I had to offer: a wife, and a wealthy one at that. Please, forgive me, Your Grace. I have truly acted abominably, as you say!”
“I am not the one to whom you should be apologizing,” Thomas said coldly. “It is Lady Cherie whose forgiveness you should be begging.”
“I—yes of course.” Norton turned to Lady Cherie and bowed—not very low, Thomas noted. “Please forgive me, Lady Cherie. My actions were self-interested, and I was most wrong.”
“I do not forgive you,” Lady Cherie said, without a hint of remorse in her voice. “And I will make sure my brother deals with you as harshly as you deserve.”
She then stormed past both of them—refusing to look Thomas in the eye—and out the door. Her footsteps echoed as she strode away down the corridor, then disappeared.
