Page 69 of His Auctioned Duchess
The ton recoiled, their scandalous delight suddenly curdled into fear.
“Enough,” Richard said again, voice like iron.
But Jasper only laughed—and that laugh carried the sound of something coming undone.
The sound that filled the chapel now was no longer polite murmuring or genteel shock—it was raw panic contained by etiquette’s thinnest thread.
Louisa had sunk to her knees before the altar, her hands trembling, her tears falling soundlessly onto the marble. Thevicar, pale and sweating, looked from one cousin to the other as though he had stumbled into a battlefield rather than a wedding.
Caroline could hardly hear her own heartbeat for the noise. Every whisper struck like a hiss of fire.
Richard stood like a statue carved from iron, unmoving even as the world splintered around him. The veins at his temples stood out sharply; the scar on his face seemed darker, his jaw a blade of fury held in check only by force of will.
He turned his head slowly toward Jasper.
Jasper swayed slightly where he stood, one hand in his hair, eyes wide and glittering. “You want me gone,” he said thickly, “because you can’t bear what I’ve said. But you can’t erase it, Richard. They all know now. The Devil of the Ton—the duke betrayed by his own blood!”
“Enough,” Richard repeated.
Jasper’s voice rose to a roar. “You think yourself master of this house, of this family, of every damned thing you touch. But you’re nothing without me. You always needed me to be lesser, so you could be more!”
He took a staggering step forward. Edmund, from the aisle, began moving toward him.
“Jasper,” Lady Ophelia whispered, “please–”
But he was not listening. His gaze darted wildly, searching for some weapon to hurl, some wound to inflict. Then his eyes landed on Caroline.
She had moved to Richard’s side, her face pale but composed. There was no fear in her stance—only shock and sorrow.
Jasper laughed—a terrible, unsteady sound.
“So, this is the new prize,” he said, his voice rough. “The fiery Duchess, the one they say tamed the Devil. Tell me, my lady, does it thrill you to lie beside a monster?”
The room gasped in unison. Caroline felt heat rise to her cheeks, anger flaring beneath the humiliation. “You forget yourself, sir.”
“Oh, I forget nothing,” Jasper said, striding forward. “If Richard took Louisa from me, I will take you from him.”
Before anyone could move, he seized Caroline by the arm.
The shock of his grip tore a cry from her throat. His fingers bit into her flesh, and the delicate lace of her sleeve tore under the pressure.
“Jasper!” Richard’s voice thundered through the chapel, echoing off stone and glass.
The sound halted every breath in the room. Even Jasper flinched—but he did not release her.
CHAPTER 18
“Iwill have what’s mine!” Jasper shouted.
“You will release her,” Richard growled, stepping forward. “Now.”
Jasper’s laughter cracked again, almost hysterical. “And if I don’t? Will you strike me here, before your bride and your God? Go on then, cousin! Show them how the Devil handles betrayal!”
Caroline struggled in his grasp, her voice sharp with pain. “Let me go!”
Her cry cut through the chaos. Edmund moved faster than thought, closing the distance in three strides, but Richard was swifter.
He caught Jasper’s wrist, his grip so strong that Jasper’s hand spasmed open. Caroline wrenched herself free and stumbled back into Edmund’s waiting arm.
