Page 52 of The Jilted Duchess
Hector didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to dignify his brother’s comments with a response of any sort.
Instead, he strode across the room, drew back his fist, and punched Benedict squarely in the face.
Benedict yelled in pain and rage, his own fists rising.
“You brute!” Miriam shrieked. “How dare you touch my son?”
“Shut yer mouth, Miriam,” Hector growled. “Don’t ye make this worse than it already is for yerself.”
“Are you threatening me?” Miriam demanded, a waver in her voice.
She was truly frightened of him, Hector realized. She really did think him a brute and a threat to her. What an odd thing to encounter. He had grown up terrorized by this woman, and when he had come of age and ceased to feel frightened by her, he had wanted nothing more than to keep his distance. This was the first time he felt a sense of power over her.
“I’m nae threatenin’ ye,” he told her. “I’m warnin’ ye. Ye’ll cooperate with me, the both of ye, and do exactly as I tell ye, or there’ll be consequences ye willnae like.”
“You can’t come into my house and speak to me this way!” Miriam raised her voice. “Help! We need help in here!”
Of course, Hector had expected that.
He strode over to a chair in front of the fire, noticing that while Benedict’s fists were still raised, he hadn’t moved to strike. He snorted at him. “Nae even goin’ to hit me back? I supposed ye’re too afraid to raise a hand to anyone who could give ye a fair fight. Ye’ll only resort to violence when it’s a woman ye’re facin’, is that right?”
Benedict opened and closed his mouth.
“Oh, stop gapin’, ye look like a fish.”
“How—how did you…?”
“Ye said somethin’ to her,” Hector guessed. “Somethin’ to stop her from tellin’ me the truth of what happened at that party. But I have me ways, Benedict, and ye were a fool to think ye could keep it from me. Ye put yer hands on me wife.”
Miriam spoke up again. “She was his by rights,” she said, but her voice was high and uncertain.
“Nay. He gave up any right to her when he didn’t marry her on what was to be their weddin’ day. Ye cannae leave a woman at the altar and expect her to still be there for ye when ye choose to return.”
“It’s disgraceful. They had an engagement. And Benedict was doing her a favor agreeing to marry her in the first place after the scandal she caught him up in.”
“And was hedoin’ her a favorwhen he caught her in the garden and put his hands on her without waiting for her permission?”
“A husband has the right,” Benedict growled. “And she ought to be my wife.”
“A true husband would never treat his wife that way. I wouldneverdo such a thing. Ye call me a brute, and perhaps ye’re right, but I would never harm me own wife. And sheisme wife, Benedict, nay matter what ye might like to think about it. I stood at the altar with her. I exchanged vows with her. And ye did none of that.”
He took out the papers in his pocket and tossed them to his stepmother.
She looked down at what he’d thrown at her but made no move to touch it. “What is this?”
“This is information about a ship leaving for America in five days’ time,” he told her gruffly. “There’s money enough for the two of you to book passage. I want ye out of my life.”
“You’re mad,” Miriam said. “We’re not going to America. There’s nothing you can do to make us. You may have managed to usurp the title that ought to have been Benedict’s by rights, but you cannot eject us from the country.”
“Oh, I can,” Hector countered. “Ye may not like it, stepmaither, but I am a duke, and me word has power. I can let the constablesknow what Benedict here did—me wife has the marks on her to prove it. And even if he tries to deny, it will be his word against me own. AndI amthe duke.”
Miriam pressed her lips together and said nothing.
“And as for ye,” he went on, “I know ye’ve been mishandling me faither’s money in ways that have cheated his business partners since his death. I’ve turned a blind eye to it, because I wasnae interested in how that money was put to use. But if ye force me hand, I’ll be only too happy to let the constables know all about that as well. I’m sure it would be of interest to them. Ye’ll both find yerselves behind bars if ye decide to stay here. So I would suggest gettin’ on that ship and thankin’ me for offerin’ ye a way out of yer own messes.”
“You’re a bastard,” Miriam hissed at him.
“Bastard I may be, but I’m a better man than the son ye raised and always claimed to prefer,” he told her. “And that’s good enough for me. Be on that ship in five days, the both of ye, or there will be hell to pay.”
