Page 93 of Devoted to the Duke (The St. Clairs 1)

“If you reject the challenge, you would gravely insult me—and prove what a coward you are.” He stopped and waited until Statham met his gaze. “That’sifI have Morefield give you the letter.”

“What... what would it take for that not to occur?” Statham asked hoarsely.

“Only for you to keep what you know to yourself, as any gentleman worthy of that title would,” Jeremy said. “Your silence—for your life. It’s your choice, Statham.”

Her cousin licked his lips nervously.

Jeremy stood. “Very well. I’ll—”

“No! Wait!”

“You have something to say?”

Statham swallowed nervously. “Yes, Your Grace. I’m sorry—”

“No,” her husband said, his irritation plain. “Apologize to my duchess.”

Statham came and stood before her and then bent upon one knee. “I ask for forgiveness, Your Grace. I beg you to show me mercy. I promise never to reveal the origins of your birth. Or Cousin Leah’s. If you choose, I will never speak to you—or of you—again in society.”

She stared into his eyes, thinking how this worthless man had taken the title her father had held with honor.

“You will cede guardianship of Leah to Everton.”

“Of course,” he quickly agreed.

“You will greet us cordially at anytonevent but keep your distance. We will never invite you into our homes nor will we expect to visit you in yours.”

“I understand.”

“If you even think of betrayal, my husband will know. He is a very clever man, Statham. I would not have him duel with you. Instead, I would have him ruin you financially. And then see that you’re judged to be incompetent and placed in an asylum. You would have many years of suffering ahead of you. So many that you might truly go mad.”

He shuddered. “I vow never to speak ill of you, Your Grace.”

“Good.” Catherine glanced at her husband, who looked upon her in awe. He offered his hand and helped her rise.

Jeremy escorted her halfway across the room and halted. He kissed her cheek and said, “I’ll be back.”

Confused, she watched him cross the room and return to where Statham stood. With such speed that it seemed a blur, her husband threw a punch that landed on the earl’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.

Hovering over Statham, he said, “I want the papers regarding Leah’s guardianship delivered to me by the end of the day. And then I want you gone from England for at least five years. Longer would be better. You’ve insulted my duchess and made a mockery of calling yourself a gentleman. It will take a long time for my temper to cool, Statham. See that you never cross me again else I will issue that challenge and see you dead.”

Jeremy returned to Catherine’s side and tucked her hand through the crook of his arm before leading her from the room.

Jervis stood just outside the door. It was obvious from the look on his face that he had heard everything. He nodded deferentially.

As he saw them out, the butler said, “I will submit my resignation, effective immediately. I won’t require a reference from Lord Statham.”

“We’ll be expecting you,” Jeremy told the older man. “Please inform Lady Leah to pack her things. I’ll send the carriage for you both in two hours.”

“Very good, Your Grace.”

Morefield paced along the sidewalk. He hurried toward them as they emerged from the townhouse.

“Should I be concerned? I opened the letter, you know. You didn’t bother to seal it, Everton.”

Jeremy grinned. “I figured you would.”

“By the look on your face, I’m assuming that I will not have to act as your second and give Statham your challenge.”

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