Page 85 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
Laurence felt the room tilt as Lord Hargrove brought his family’s shame out into the light. His heart began to race dangerously fast. His mouth was dry, his hands were shaking, and a rush of adrenaline flooded through him as the room fell silent.
Everyone was now watching. A high-pitched whine rang in his ears, and his breath came faster, shallower, as if his body was preparing for flight… or a fight.
Tilly’s words echoed in his head.
“Well, if anyone is mean to you, you tell me. I’ll tell them off for you.”
Edith’s words followed.
“Your father was wrong about a lot of things. Most of all, he was wrong when he said you were a disgrace to the duchy.”
Laurence took a long, deep breath. He would not let this heartless, vulgar man get the better of him. Not tonight.
“I agree, Lord Mallowby,” he said, standing a little straighter.
Lord Hargrove sneered and narrowed his eyes at him. “At least your father was honest about his cruelty,” he scoffed.
Laurence’s vision blurred.
Weak men are forgotten,his father’s voice hissed in his ear.
For a moment, he thought he could contain his fury. He was wrong.
Smash.
Laurence’s fist connected with Lord Hargrove’s face, the force of the blow launching him into the air.
The man crashed onto the wooden floor, his head narrowly missing the corner of a table. Blood dripped from his broken nose and pooled under his cheek.
Laurence felt a rush of vindication. Lord Hargrove had had this coming for a while.
But then someone screamed.
Laurence blinked and looked around. He’d been so caught up in his rage, he’d forgotten where he was.
Gasps and whispers filled the room.
“Your Grace.” Edith ran to his side. “Are you all right?”
Laurence shook his head.
She reached out to take his hand, but he pulled it away from her.
“Laurence, talk to me,” Edith murmured. “What Lord Hargrove said was unspeakably rude and uncalled for. I need you to listen to me and take a deep breath.”
Laurence nodded, trying his best to breathe. It was a futile effort. Blood still dripped from his knuckles.
Lord Hargrove groaned and sat up, rubbing his jaw and wiping blood from his shattered nose. “Now, really, is that any way to treat your guest?”
“You dare ask about our manners when you have been insulting and goading my husband?” Edith snapped.
“I was pointing out what should have been common sense to everyone here,” Lord Hargrove sneered.
“You were being openly callous and cruel,” Edith hissed. “Not only that, but you were insulting a child and making uncouth remarks about my marriage!”
“Which marriage?” Lord Hargrove snorted. “Your first or your second?”
“My first husband died; that is not a scandal,” Edith spat.
