Page 50 of The Phantom Duke
In a quick, sudden movement, Damien stood. He planted his hands firmly on Shelidan’s desk. The man jumped, and his eyes darted to the door, as if in search of rescue or escape.
“Your butler has long gone,” Damien said lowly, “and as you have said, the hour is quite late. I imagine most of your staff will already be gone to bed, and even if they have not, do you imagine they would intervene if some disagreement were to arise between us?”
“D-disagreement?”
“That is right.”
Shelidan grasped his glass of brandy so tightly that his knuckles were white. “There is n-no disagreement. I do not know what you mean! Why are you here?”
Doubtlessly, the man already knew and only feigned ignorance in the hopes of making Damien’s resolve waver, but Shelidan had no idea what Damien was capable of. Nor did the earl know precisely how far Damien was willing to go forher, for Maria.
Damien did notcarefor her, of course, but he was willing to concede that he felt the slightest spark of fondness for the woman. Admiration, even. And the thought of this wretched creature causing his wife even a little distress was enough to set Damien’s blood boiling.
“Maria might be your daughter, but she is my wife now. She answers to only one man, and that is me,” Damien said, eyes narrowing. “And you should be aware that I am a possessive and vindictive man. Some might sayterritorial, even. I do not like to share what is mine.”
“I—I did not consent to this marriage.”
“Nor did you object,” Damien interrupted. “Whether you like it or not, Maria is my wife. If you meddle with her, you meddle with me, and I am a vengeful and quick-tempered man.”
Shelidan nodded, his eyes wide.
A shiver of revulsion traced along the path of Damien’s spine. How had this cowardly man sired such a brazen creature as Maria?
“So you are going to leave her be,” Damien said. “You will not threaten Maria or her friends. And you will not meddle in that orphanage on Willow Street. Do you understand me?”
“I—I understand.”
“Good. If you cause any difficulty with Maria or me ever again, you will regret it.”
Shelidan swallowed, the sound audible. “I—I understand, Your Grace.”
Damien smirked, dark satisfaction filling him. It was no major victory cowing such a cowardly man, but a small part of him, one which he often fought to acknowledge, delighted in seeing this man—the one who had caused Maria so much grief—brought to heel with just a few words.
“Good,” Damien said. “I trust this will be the last time we speak.”
Damien seized the decanter and filled the man’s glass again, aware of how Shelidan’s eyes darted about the room, as though anticipating violence.
Good. Let the man fear me! He is fortunate that I am unable to lock him in a dungeon, as reprehensible as he is!
Perhaps, some time spent with trespassers would teach the accursed man some humility.
“I—I understand,” Shelidan said. “And I agree. No further conversations are necessary.”
With a final glare, Damien stormed from the room, leaving Maria’s father to wallow in the aftermath of his fury. That was one matter settled, then. Oh, some men managed to regaintheir courage after facing Damien’s anger, but he doubted that Shelidan would be one of them. Damien imagined that the wretched man would drink to excess, hoping to banish the memory of their encounter from his mind.
Hopefully, Shelidan would regret that decision, too.
The butler met Damien in the foyer and cleared his throat, offering a bow and a hesitant smile. “Are you leaving so soon, Your Grace?”
Damien sensed a hint of curiosity in the man’s voice and chose not to humor it. His lips thinned. “I am.”
Without waiting for any more courteous farewells, Damien threw open the door and walked into the night. A spring breeze swept across his face, its gentleness at odds with his tumultuous mood. His footman waited beside the sleek, black coach.
Seeing Damien’s approach, the man snapped to attention and bowed. “To Willow Street,” Damien said. “I want to visit the orphanage there.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The footman stumbled over his feet in his haste to open the door. Damien grimaced but said nothing. Sometimes, it was simpler to do things for oneself.
