Page 132 of Harpy of the Ton
“I asked first.”
“I am Montague FitzRoy, fifth Duke of Whitcombe.”
Whitcombe…
Why did that name sound familiar?
Lawrence seemed unperturbed by the revelation. “Well,Montague FitzRoy, Fifth Duke of Whitcombe,” he said, “I’d like to know what gives you the right to insult my wife.”
The stranger glanced from Bella to her husband and back again, then let out a snort.
“You poor fool!” he scoffed. “I wish you joy of her.”
“That’s right kind of you,” Lawrence said. “Nobody brings me more joy than my Bella.”
“Bella, did you say?”
“Aye, that’s right. Bella Baxter—my wife.”
“Baxter…” The duke raised his eyebrows. “You’re the gardener Trelawney wanted me to meet.”
“Aye, but I’m not so sure if I’m wantin’ to meetyou.”
“Ibegyour pardon?” The duke’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, as if the mere thought of a lesser being rebuffing him was inconceivable.
“You heard,” Lawrence said. “Duke or no, you’re no gentleman if you insult the woman I love.”
“I should call you out for that.”
“I’ve no idea what that means.”
“It means challenge you to a duel. It’s how gentlemen settle an argument when one has dishonored another—usually at dawn, with pistols.”
“Doesn’t sound very gentlemanly,” Lawrence said. “And I should be the one callin’youout, seein’ as you’ve dishonored my wife. We can settle it now if you like. With fists.”
The duke wrinkled his nose, then he clicked his heels together, turned his back, and returned to the main garden without saying a word.
Lawrence drew Bella into his arms. “You’re trembling, love.”
“I-I don’t know why that man said such things,” she said. “What have I done to him?”
“Nothing that merits such treatment. Arrogant arse! Not like Trelawney at all—but then, Trelawney had to work for his fortune. That man—Whitcombe, or whatever his name is—probably hasn’t had to lift a finger in his life.”
“You heard what he said,” Bella replied. “Mr. Trelawney must have told him about you—you shouldn’t have spoken to him like that. What if he was going to hire you for his garden?”
“I wouldn’t work for a man who insults you—not if he paid me a thousand pounds.”
“But—”
“No, Bella. You mean more to me than all the money in the world.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s get you inside—you should rest before dinner. It’s been a long day.”
“I can’t attend dinner,” she said. “What if that man’s there?”
“He won’t be, love. Trelawney assured me it was a family dinner. No other guests except you and I.”
“But all those people here—they’ve come to see the garden, and to talk to you. If they’re not staying for dinner, you should speak to them now—not waste time with me.”
“Tending to the woman I love is the best use of my time.”
