Page 11 of The Phantom Duke
The last thing she should be doing was making this man angry. But she could not let such objectionable behavior go unchallenged. The injustice of insulting her while in such a position of strength and power seemed unkind to her, which struck at the core of her sense of right and wrong.
“In my house, I will decide what is called for,” the duke growled.
That rumbling voice seemed to reverberate within Maria. It caused her disquiet but also a frisson of excitement that she tried to stamp out. There was something alluring about his sheer maleness. He was a strong, intimidating man, whose very presence demanded subservience.. She swallowed, looking at the doctor, who looked meek and frail in comparison to the powerful duke.
“Doctor Hale. There is a fever at the Willow Street orphanage. I was sent by Doctor Drayford to fetch quinine, olive wood and linen from Bedlam, I mean Bethlem Hospital. They are just little children! Will you please help me?”
“A word, Simon,” the duke said, rising abruptly.
He moved with frightening speed for such a big man, lithe and graceful despite his size.
“A moment, Damien,” Simon raised a hand. “Of course, I will help. I can go at once to fetch the supplies and then help Doctor Drayford as well as I may. The name sounds familiar to me; I may have come across him at some time.”
“Thank you,” Maria said.
Simon gave a curt nod and headed toward the door.
Maria nodded, feeling grateful and relieved that her pleas were being heard and help was on the way. The duke approached her, holding a silver-headed cane in his hands.
“You are not a prisoner. If you wish to leave, then leave. This may help you. I will have my people recover your trap if the thieves that infest this country have not stolen it.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, the closest thing she had seen to a smile.
“Are you afraid?”
The question came so suddenly that it took her by surprise.
“Should I be?” she said, lifting her chin and accepting the cane, “Just because you are clearly trying to frighten me?”
“You are in the home of the infamous Phantom. You were attacked by villains last night, and they will now be telling the tale of the young woman abducted by the Phantom of Winterleigh.”
Maria licked her lips. She found herself lulled by his mellifluous voice, not wanting to talk over him because she wanted every word, every syllable, to wash over her.
I must gain some measure of control. He is just a man. Not a wizard or spirit. And I am not a swooning debutante to be rendered weak-kneed by a strong voice and a broad chest.
Forcing a calm tone, she said, “I am not afraid because you saved my life. And you are clearly not a… phantom.”
“Am I not? How well you know me in such a short space of time.”
He was mocking her, and the anger it inflamed within her overrode common sense and fear both. As he turned for the door, she stabbed the cane into the bare boards of the floor and got to her feet.
“I know you well enough to know you are a brute and a bully,” she said.
The duke whirled to face her. The portion of his face that was visible was contorted by rage.
“Do you know the severity of your situation?” he hissed. “Three men saw you taken by the Phantom. Word will have reached your Doctor Drayford by now, I’m sure. How long before your name and mine are linked in scandal and intrigue? It means nothing to me, but what will it mean to your father? To you?”
She had not considered that but had to concede that he had a point.
A woman must protect her reputation. A man can be a rogue and wear it as a badge of honor. For a woman, it would be a millstone around her neck. And I am already cast out by my wretched father.
“That is a worrying prospect. I will not deny it.” Maria sighed deeply. “And an unjust one. I did nothing except try to help ailing children.”
“And in so doing, you transgressed the norms of your society. That is not how a lady is supposed to behave, is it?” the duke replied.
“I am an uncommon lady.”
“Agreed.”
