Page 8 of Not the Duke's Virgin

Oliver gave a scathing laugh. “Since when did you care about what is right, dear brother? You always were Father’s favorite, the heir groomed to perfection. What did I ever receive but his scorn?”

“You brought that on yourself with your behavior,” Simon bit out. “You think you are ready to be master of the estate? You could not control your gambling or drinking habits long enough to show any capability.”

Oliver seemed to seethe with rage. “And you think you are so much better? What do you know of passion or joy, sequestered here alone with your ledgers?” His tone turned taunting. “Take care that rod does not remain stuck so far up your arse, or you might forget what the sunlight looks like.”

Simon moved swiftly, seizing his brother’s by his shirt. “You go too far.”

Oliver knocked his hand away. “Or perhaps not far enough. But we shall see who goes farthest in the end.”

With that cryptic remark, he stormed off.

Simon remained motionless as a statue.

* * *

After the awkward, tension-filled dinner, the ladies rose from the table to adjourn to the drawing room. Victoria was desperate for a respite from the stifling atmosphere. As the other ladies filed out, she paused in the doorway and turned back.

“Pardon me,” she said, “but I’m afraid I must freshen up after that large meal. I’ll join you shortly.”

Without waiting for a response, she slipped out a side door and into a small hallway. Glancing around furtively and seeing no one, she hurried toward the back of the manor.

Emerging into a moonlit courtyard, she let out a breath. The grand manor loomed large around her, but she spotted an empty path leading off to one side. It appeared to lead to the gardens.

Clutching her shawl against the night air, Victoria hurried down the garden path, gravel crunching under her slippers. The path twisted past manicured hedges and over a burbling stone fountain. Finding a secluded bench tucked into an alcove, she sat down gratefully, head leaning back against the hedge.

Out here, alone under the stars, the knot in Victoria’s chest finally loosened as she breathed in the fragrant night air deeply. The peaceful beauty of the gardens soothed her frayed nerves after the wretched dinner. Gazing up at the moon, she vowed not to forget the good in this world still worth fighting for.

A snap of a twig jerked Victoria out of her thoughts. Heart leaping to her throat, she whirled to find Simon emerging from the shadows, imposing in his black evening attire.

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Your Grace! You startled me.”

“Did I?” His tone was mocking as he approached with effortless grace.

Victoria shrank back against the hedge.“I just needed some air?—”

“I’m sure.”

Simon braced one hand on the hedge above her shoulder, bringing his tall frame dangerously close. His eyes glinted like steel in the darkness. Victoria’s pulse quickened.

“I know precisely why you’re out here, my dear,” he purred, leaning in until she could feel the heat of his breath. “This engagement of yours is merely a ruse, concocted so you can slither your way into my inheritance.”

Victoria gaped, outrage momentarily choking her words. When she found her voice, it came out heated.

“How dare you accuse me of such deception! I have no designs on your fortune.”

Simon slammed his other hand on the hedge, caging her in. “Come now, let’s not pretend. Why else would my rake of a brother propose to a woman he barely knows?”

Victoria trembled but refused to cower. She lifted her chin defiantly. “My reasons are none of your concern, Your Grace.”

Simon grinned wolfishly, undaunted by her show of courage. He leaned in closer until their faces were just inches apart. Victoria could see the dangerous glint in his dark brown eyes.

“Oh, I think they are my concern, Lady Victoria,” he purred. “You see, when it involves my family’s inheritance, I make it my business to know everything.”

Victoria’s pulse was racing now, but she refused to back down. “I want nothing that belongs to you or your family,” she insisted. “This engagement was not of my design.”

Simon tilted his head, studying her intently. “Is that so? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

Victoria tried to slip under his arm, but he blocked her effortlessly. “Let me pass, Your Grace,” she demanded.

---