Page 55 of My Demanding Duke

Gravesend smirked, amused at her stupidity. “Men rarely believe their wives are faithful when the evidence says otherwise. When our audience arrives you’ll be compromised, Your Grace. And the ton loves a scandal. Especially when it involves a pretty face and a fallen woman.”

“You’re mad,” she whispered. “He’ll kill you.”

He looked at her for a moment—truly looked—and something flickered in his expression. Something darker. More resolved.

“Well,” he said, glancing at the fob watch he drew from his waistcoat pocket. “It’s nearly five. Our audience should be arriving any moment.” He clicked the watch shut with a decisive snap. “Might as well put on a proper show and be hung for a sheep as a lamb, if you think I will die for this.”

With a grunt, he tossed the watch to the floor and lunged.

Anna screamed again, twisting with every ounce of her strength. Her bound hands flailed; she kicked, bit, thrashed. She was no match for her opponent but she was determined to put up a brave fight. Gravesend struggled against her show of force, but eventually he pinned her to the bed, his weight too heavy to hold off, his breath foul with spirits.

Anna had just about given up hope, when the door burst open.

The noise startled Gravesend enough that he lurched back, just as Hugh strode into the room like a demon, his coat billowing behind him.

“Get away from her,” he snarled.

Behind Hugh stood another man—a stranger to Anna—with a soldier’s bearing and a cocked pistol in his hand.

Hugh crossed the room in three strides and wrenched Gravesend away, sending him sprawling to the floor with a crack of bone against floorboards. The second man strode forward, aiming his pistol at Gravesend’s sweating face.

“I have him covered, Falconbridge. See to your wife,” the man said calmly, as though he said things like this every day.

Anna drew in a shaking breath as her husband knelt beside her, his hands already at her bindings.

“I’m here,” Hugh said, his voice raw. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

This time, Anna did not fight the tears. She let them fall freely, as she fell into the arms of her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frantic now to let him know just how sorry she was for not trusting him.

“As am I,” Hugh whispered, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. A frown creased his brow as he noted her split lip. “We must get you home at once and checked over by a doctor.”

“It’s just a little cut,” Anna protested, not wanting him to worry. “He only had a chance to deliver one blow, before you arrived.”

Hugh exhaled a ragged breath and leaned his forehead against Anna’s. He then pulled her into his strong arms and delivered a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I am glad to hear you remain mostly uninjured,” he whispered softly, stroking her hair. “Lets get you home and into a hot bath, you can tell me the rest when you’ve rested.”

She nodded, allowing him to assist her from the bed. Her limbs ached from being forced into the same position for hours, but otherwise she was well.

The sound of footsteps rushing down the hallway caused them all to freeze and glance toward the door.

“Beg your pardon, your Grace,” a man called, removing his hat as he sighted Hugh. “Is that Lord Gravesend? My master requested he be brought straight to him.”

“Who is your master?” Hugh asked.

“Mr Shatter, your Grace,” came the response.

Anna watched in fascination as Hugh shared a smile of amusement with his friend, who still stood guard over a dazed Lord Gravesend.

“Do you trust Shatter to mete out the appropriate justice?” Hugh’s friend asked softly, the pistol in his hand still pointing squarely at Gravesend’s chest.

“Shatter will deal with the physical retribution, Nate,” Hugh decided, “He never did get a chance to punish Gravesend for cheating the house. If he survives that, I shall see that social justice is delivered; Lord Gravesend will never be received in polite society again.”

Nate nodded with satisfaction, dropping his pistol and tucking it back into his coat pocket. “If that’s the case, take your wife home, Falconbridge. I can oversee matters from here. Anna, I do hope we will meet again under more civilised circumstances.”

“As do I,” Anna stuttered, Nate’s manners so flawless that if it weren’t for the sting of her lip and the aroma of boiled cabbage, she would swear they were in a ballroom and not a decrepit boarding house.

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