Page 27 of The Duke's Second Bride
“Here.” He handed it to Dunfair, who took it warily.
“What is this?” the other man asked, skimming over it with no small amount of trepidation and skepticism in his voice.
“A marriage settlement,” Christian said, “drawn up by my solicitor. Legally, once your sister-and-law and I are married, any claim you have over her inheritance shall be nullified once and for all.”
“What?” Dunfair scoffed. He looked in bewilderment down at the paper, then back up at Christian. “You and Ava?”
Christian felt his jaw stiffen. “I would advise you to keep her name out of your mouth,” he hissed.
Dunfair looked intimidated, but he didn’t back down entirely. “If Lady Dunfair is no longer to be any concern of mine, then good riddance,” he sneered. “I wash my hands of the wretch.” Christian clenched his fist. “But,” Dunfair continued, “I must make clear that I will not sign without a settlement. As is my right, as the man of the Dunfair name. The only man, mind you.”
Christian ignored that last bit, which he didn’t quite understand the snarky tone behind, and nodded. “If you read further, you’ll see the settlement includes a modest sum. You may take or forfeit it.” Dunfair kept reading.
Christian saw how his eyes widened when he reached the number in question.
“I trust that is sufficient to ensure you make no efforts to interfere in the lady’s life in the future?”
Dunfair let out a guffaw. “My word! It’s a rather high price to pay for used goods,” he said, adding a sneer at the end.
“Watch how you speak about my betrothed,” Christian growled.
“Peace, Your Grace! I only mean to say that your bride-to-be is a bad investment,” Dunfair said cruelly. “She’s infertile, or hadn’t you heard? You shouldn’t get your hopes up for a spare heir. And given the s-s-sorry state of your first, I’d imagine that would be quite a letdown.”
Christian took a single step forward, knuckles white at his side, and Dunfair immediately backed away, his face pale with fear.
“You will sign,” he said, “or else, I will personally see to it that the Dunfair title—and your name—is dragged through the mud.” He leaned in closer, relishing the look of fear that bloomed in the other man’s beady eyes. “And if you dare to show your face at the wedding, I promise that threat of social ruin will feel like a pleasant memory compared to the fate that awaits you then.”
Dunfair paused for a moment, swallowing. Then he nodded.
“Very well,” he said, that omnipresent sneer returning to that punch-worthy mouth. “There you are.” He shoved the paper back at Christian. “Congratulations on your nuptials.”
Christian took it, skimmed it to make sure everything was in order, and then nodded. “Good. You’d best hope we never cross paths again, Lord Dunfair.”
“Farewell, Your Grace,” the man called out, apparently unable to resist the urge to let Christian go without one more attempt to tempt him to blacken his one remaining good eye. “Enjoy her for me, won’t you? I can’t deny I won’t regret getting to sample Ava’s wares, however dear a price it might have cost me.”
Christian halted at the door. Then he turned around, walked back to Dunfair.
He blinked, “Your Gr?—”
Christian walloped him once more across the unbruised cheek.
Dunfair fell to the ground, clutching his face with a pathetic moan.
“You lunatic!” he panted after a moment. He crawled backwards from Christian’s approaching steps. “You’re an absolute madman.”
“On the contrary,” Christian growled, “I don’t think I have ever felt saner. It is the man who insults another man’s fiancé who could most accurately be termed mad.”
“You can have her,” Dunfair blubbered, almost laughing from the pain and fear. “It might even be a good match, all thingsconsidered. You might be the only man alive who could put her in her place, having to deal with that damned temper of yours.”
Christian’s jaw tensed. His fist tightened at his side. He saw Dunfair’s eyes go completely round in fear. The other man cowered, as though preparing to dodge another blow.
Then, finally, Christian turned back to cross to the door. “You lost the right to say her name the day you put coin above her safety,” he said.
And with that, he left, letting the door slam shut behind him.
The wedding itself was an elegant affair. Small and efficient, conducted in a chapel with as few witnesses as possible.
Ava did not mind.
