Page 49 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Simon did not flinch at the outburst. “Control yourself, Oliver. I’ll remind you that you are speaking to the head of this family.”

His cold tone only further incensed his brother. Oliver’s face twisted in fury. “You always thought yourself so above me and everyone else. Hiding behind that stony mask of a face. I see through you.”

He jabbed his finger at Simon. “You’re afraid. Afraid of living, afraid of feeling anything. That’s why you deny me now. You don’t want anyone to be happy!” He sneered. “Well, I won’t let you control me any longer, or my sweet, little fiancée. We’ll take what’s owed to us.”

Simon frowned, an unfamiliar emotion burning through him. “Have a care how you speak of the lady.”

Oliver threw back his head and laughed derisively. “Oh, standing up for your little whore, are you?” His eyes gleamed cruelly. “Maybe I’ll bring her back here after the vows, and we can all get better acquainted.”

Rage erupted in Simon’s chest, a torrent of fire. In two long strides, he had crossed the room and slammed Oliver back against the paneled wall, forearm pressed harshly against his throat.

“You will speak of Lady Victoria with respect,” he gritted out, face inches away from his brother’s.

Choking for breath, Oliver clawed at Simon’s arm, eyes wide. But Simon held firm, jaw clenched. He knew he should release his drunken lout of a brother, but fury still pumped through his veins.

At last, he stepped back, shaking off the red haze of anger. Oliver collapsed to the floor, coughing and wheezing. Rising unsteadily, he glared at Simon through watering eyes.

“I’ll speak as I like,” he rasped, massaging his throat. “She’s going to be my wife, after all.” He straightened up and met Simon’s stare. “But since you’re so keen to defend the lady’s honor, let’s settle this the proper way.” His lips curled into a sneer. “I challenge you to a duel, Brother. Dawn tomorrow, on the east lawn.”

Simon froze, momentarily taken aback. A distant part of him realized this was foolishness. But a larger part was already accepting.

“Very well.” He inclined his head. “I accept your challenge. Swords at sunrise.”

Oliver nodded once, a smug gleam in his eyes. “We’ll see who is the better man.”

He turned and stalked out of the study, slamming the door shut behind him.

Simon released a long breath. What bizarre fit of madness had come over him? He abhorred senseless violence. Yet, at his brother’s vile words about Lady Victoria, something fierce and unfamiliar had reared up inside, demanding satisfaction.

In truth, Simon did not fully understand this reaction. What did it matter to him if a woman of little consequence were insulted? Although he had started falling for her, he now felt it was for pity’s sake. She was merely a scheming social climber after his brother’s fortune.

Wasn’t she?

Simon frowned, pacing to the window. Some niggling doubt gave him pause. Despite his earlier conclusions, something in his gut told him Lady Victoria was not entirely what she appeared.

Beneath her polished smiles and charm, did there lurk a deeper truth?

Perhaps he had judged her unfairly. But why, then, was she carrying out this sham engagement? What hold could Oliver possibly have over her?

Frustrated by the unanswered questions, Simon raked a hand through his hair. He would likely never know what motivated Victoria. But honor demanded he defend her, even if she was naught but a schemer using his brother. He had given his word to Oliver, and the duel must proceed.

Let it be done, then. Perhaps the coming dawn would also shed light on other hidden truths.

With that disquieting thought, Simon left the study to prepare.

CHAPTER12

The rays of the morning sun streamed through the windows of Hayward Manor, signaling the start of a new day. In just a few short hours, the grand estate would once again be vacant, as the guests from the past week’s festivities prepared to depart.

Victoria awoke feeling drained, the events of the last several days weighing heavily on her mind. So much had happened since she first arrived with her cousin Madeline—the whirlwind of parties, the unraveling secrets, and the questionable agreement she now found herself entangled in.

As she sat up in bed, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” she called, straightening her nightgown.

Madeline entered, already dressed for the day ahead. “Good morning, Victoria,” she greeted with a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Victoria could sense her cousin’s apprehension. She too felt it gnawing at her insides. “Good morning,” she replied softly.

Madeline sat down on the edge of the bed. “Can you believe this is our last day here? It feels as though we have only just arrived.”

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