Page 74 of The Duke, My Rescue


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Georgiana cared, and she had stood up to the Viscount. By then, Owen didn’t doubt she would stand up to anyone. She could lead an army to battle and win with just the fierceness of her gaze.

Her words should have been enough for anyone, including Lord Hornstooth, to leave her be.

Instead, he dared to put his hands on her.

Owen inhaled sharply as he walked toward the Viscount once his wife had left them. Staring up at him, Lord Hornstooth moved backwards until he was nearly buried in the vines crawling up the wall.

The urge to crush him nearly became overwhelming. Staring him down, Owen tried to determine what he could do next.

Murder hardly seemed the right direction. He didn’t want to duel, not really. That was tedious, and he didn’t trust someone like Lord Hornstooth to behave with honor through such a private––and illegal––matter.

“You touched my wife,” Owen growled, unable to stay still any longer. “You had no right.”

He thought of the flush he had seen on her face, the indignation in her eyes. Even before reaching them, he had known something was wrong. Georgiana’s hands had been balled into fists, her back ramrod straight. She had been far from pleased. Now, so was he.

“I meant nothing by it. I don’t know what you think you saw, Your Grace,” Lord Hornstooth sputtered. “But I can assure you that it was innocent.”

“Then she asked you for your aid?”

The Viscount hesitated. “Well, no.”

“So you had no right to put your hands on her. She doesn’t belong to you, Lord Hornstooth. You would do well to remember you have no right to be even in her line of sight,” Owen added sharply.

Lord Hornstooth scrambled to stay upright while not touching Owen or the vines at his back. He tried not to act like it as he shifted about and his eyes looked everywhere but at the Duke. “As I said, it was innocent.”

“Would my wife agree?”

Lord Hornstooth scoffed. “Women will say whatever serves them best. You don’t need to believe a thing they say.”

“On the contrary, my wife is quite trustworthy. I saw you with your hands on her, and I heard her telling you to leave her be. It is one thing to be disreputable but another thing to be disrespectful toward my wife,” Owen barked. “You will not ever approach her again. Do you hear me?”

Slumping, Lord Hornstooth gaped up at him, his beady eyes wide. His teeth were yellowing, and his nose was red. Owen could not fathom how anyone had invited him to a proper affair like this ball.

“What do you care?” Lord Hornstooth protested. “You don’t care about anyone. You’re the duke who everyone forgets because he’s too high and mighty to join us in London.”

“I stay away so I don’t have to suffer the company of fools,” Owen fired back.

“Oh, and you think that will change now that you have a wife? You’re no different than the rest of us. You’ll forget about her and leave her be. That’s what they all do. All I did was offer her a bit of company,” the Viscount snarled.

Narrowing his eyes, Owen couldn’t help but think murder might not be too awful a deed. “You will leave her alone. You know nothing about me, and you know nothing about her.”

“I know enough. Anyone who gets close to you ends up dead or hurt. Parents, remember? Your own cousin disappeared,” Lord Hornstooth rattled off his paltry list. “It won’t be long before your wife disappears, too.”

Owen didn’t carry weapons, but he thought his hands might fit around the man’s neck. He blinked back the urge as he said, “My wife is not your concern.”

“Oh? What if she wants to disappear? She doesn’t have to do it alone. We all know how inhumane you must be. I’m more than happy to?—”

Grabbing Lord Hornstooth by his coat, Owen shoved him against the wall. His patience was spent. All he could see was red. The Viscount had no right to speak to him like this, to talk about his wife like this.

“Don’t you dare come near us again. I won’t warn you again. I can protect my wife, and I always will. I will do whatever I must to keep her safe. That means,” Owen added bitingly, “keeping her away from you. Do not come near us again, Lord Hornstooth.”

He refused to hear another word from the man. He shoved him aside and stepped back, feeling a certain measure of satisfaction when the blackguard hastily picked himself up and scampered off.

There. That is done. It’s over. We’ll just return inside and act as though nothing happened. Good Lord, what a mess.

He turned just to see Georgiana standing in the doorway, a crown of light over her head, watching him. His body tensed up. Her face was cast in shadow, but as she tilted her head his way, it seemed to confirm the question in his mind––yes, she had heard every word.

Mixed emotions rippled through him.