Page 102 of His Forsaken Duchess
Cedric scoffed, his temper fraying further. “If you intended to ask for her hand, you would have approached her father, not sent her secret missives like a scoundrel.”
Rashford spread his hands, shrugging lightly. “Perhaps my methods were unorthodox. But who are you to judge? What is it to you?”
Cedric’s vision narrowed, the edges of his anger sharpening like glass. “What is it to me? I know your kind, Rashford. You ruin young women without a care for the consequences. You smile, you charm, and then you discard them as though they’re nothing more than sport.”
Rashford’s smile turned mocking. “You speak as though you intend to stop me.”
“I do,” Cedric said, his voice deadly calm.
Rashford laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. “And how, pray tell, do you intend to do that?”
Cedric’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his knuckles aching. The need toact,to bring this matter to an end once and for all, burned in his chest like wildfire.
“Cedric,” Audrey said softly, her voice trembling, but he couldn’t look at her.
“Rashford,” Cedric said, his voice like steel, “I challenge you to a duel.”
Audrey gasped behind him. “Cedric, no!”
Rashford blinked, though he recovered quickly. “A duel?” He let out a low, derisive chuckle. “I thought we left barbaric notions like that in the last century.”
“Then you are free to decline,” Cedric replied coldly. “But everyone will know you for the coward you are.”
Rashford’s smile faltered just slightly, and Cedric knew he had him. Men like Rashford—vain, arrogant, small-minded—could not afford to let their reputations crumble.
“Very well,” Rashford said, his gaze hardening. “Green Park. At dawn.”
Cedric inclined his head. “At dawn.”
Audrey tugged at his arm then, her voice breaking. “Cedric, please. You don’t have to do this.”
He turned to look at her—finally—and the heartbreak in her expression nearly undid him.
Her hands gripped his sleeve tightly, her eyes pleading. “This will solve nothing.Please.”
But Cedric shook his head. “This is the only way.”
He turned back toward the house, the gravel crunching beneath his boots as he strode toward the ballroom doors. Audrey followed him, calling out his name, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.
The moment he stepped into the light and noise of the ballroom, he scanned the crowd until he found Belleville. The man was standing near the far wall, speaking with Lilianna, whose expression was bright with laughter.
Cedric strode toward them, ignoring the curious glances thrown his way. Belleville looked up as he approached, his easy smile slipping into concern.
“Belleville,” Cedric said tersely, “I need you.”
Belleville furrowed his brow. “What is it?”
“We have a duel. Green Park, at dawn.”
“A duel?” Belleville’s voice dropped. “Haremore, are you mad?”
Cedric didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and left the ballroom without another word.
Audrey practically leaped out of the carriage the moment it pulled to a stop in front of Haremore House, the frigid nightair biting through her thin evening cloak. She had left the ball moments after Cedric stormed off, dragging her mother and Lilianna, too shaken to explain herself but too determined to follow him.
“Is the Duke here?” she asked breathlessly as Astor opened the door.
Astor inclined his head, his expression betraying the slightest flicker of concern. “His Grace returned not long ago, Your Grace. He is in his study.”
