Page 184 of Dukes for Dessert

“That you’d never wed a scarred beast and merely sought the return of the—”

Theodosia shot her palm out and cracked it across Aidan’s cheek. The sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room. Only the stark, white imprint of her hand upon his face gave her little discomfort. She staggered away from him and folded her arms across her chest. “What has happened to you?” she whispered. Her pale mother glanced down as though shamed. Good. They should all be ashamed. Theodosia included. “What has happened to all of you?” she asked, her voice rising in volume. For years they’d hung the circumstances of their family upon that cool, inanimate object fought over and about through time. Silence was her only reply. The history they’d found pride in had destroyed them all. How very close she’d been to being destroyed and eaten by those dark, cold emotions. “I am ashamed to call myself a Rayne.”

“That is enough,” her father said, the quiet of his tone more powerful than had he boomed with fury. “Leave us,” he commanded his son. “You are to stay, Theo,” he said not taking his eyes from her.

She fisted the fabric of her skirts. She’d rather walk the muddied, cobbled stones through London’s Seven Dials than have this discussion with her father. Alone. Her brother’s fury she could well handle. She’d braved Aidan’s explosive fits of tempers since he’d been a boy. Her father’s somber disapproval, she could do without.

After a long moment, Richard came to his feet and looked to Aidan. He glared at Theodosia and then all that remained of her living siblings started for the door.

Footsteps sounded in the hall and a quiet rap on the door froze the members of the room. Another knock sounded.

“Enter,” her father called out at last.

The butler, Watson, who’d been with their family since Theodosia had been in leading strings opened the door. “The Duke of Devlin,” he announced and stepped aside to allow Damian entry.

Hope sprung to life in her chest.

Damian.

He stepped into the room with long, slow strides better reserved for a predator hunting his prey.

Then she registered the weapon carried in his hands and her heart started at her family’s silence to his unexpected arrival at last made sense. The legendary Theodosia Gladius only spoken of amongst their family had never before been viewed or touched, but had instead existed as the stories told them as children. Until now. Now it became real.

“Your daughter attempted to steal my sword.” Damian’s gaze lingered on her, his ice blue eyes, conveying nothing. “She entered my home, not once, but twice with the express purpose of stealing it.”

A spasm of pain wracked her heart and, coward that she was, she wanted to look away. But for every ill word that could be uttered about her, coward was not one of them. What a fool she’d been. How had she ever believed this cold piece of metal mattered so very much?

Her father opened and closed his mouth several times, but said nothing.

“Do you know what I realized, Lavery?” Damian asked, not sparing so much as a glance for her brothers as he strolled past and then stopped before her father.

“We don’t give a damn what you realized,” Aidan exclaimed.

Their father gave his son a quelling look and the younger man looked away shamefaced. “What was it you realized, Devlin?” he barked, in a clear attempt to try and regain some mastery over this meeting.

“I came to find that I don’t give a damn about this weapon. I’m not the rightful owner.” He may as well have declared a treasonous plan to overthrow the king for as shocked as her gape-mouthed family was. “But neither are you the rightful owner, Lavery.”

Color splotched her father’s cheeks and he opened his mouth to speak.

Damian presented him his shoulder in a deliberate attempt to silence her father and turned to her. “I realized the gladius belongs to you.”

She cast a glance about for this rightful owner he spoke of and jumped at the cool, smooth metal pressed against her hand. Theodosia and Damian stood, their hands united upon the gladius. “You see, Theodosia, you would sacrifice all for it, when men such as me disrespect it by hanging it upon the wall and not considering the ancient story surrounding it. Your brothers and family,” he shifted his gaze about the room to her family members. “They will see an item and long for its return merely to wrest control back, but you, your hope was not for wealth, power, and control, but for happiness. Just as the original owner found hope and love at the edge of this blade.” His mellifluous baritone washed over her, seducing her with the beauty in his words.

“I thought you did not believe in the history of the sword.” She tightened her grip upon the hilt and he shifted his hand over hers.

Damian held her gaze. “In spite of the ancestors who came before who believed the weapon cursed, unless it was in the rightful owner’s true hands, you knew different. It can open the heart to love.” Her throat worked. Damian shifted his attention to her still silent father. “The true fortune that comes to the rightful owner is love and hope. Theodosia believes in the power of the sword and that reason is more honorable than the aspirations of wealth and power dreamed up by both of our families.”

Tears flooded her vision and his beloved visage blurred before her. “I don’t want the sword.”

A collective cry went up about the room at this latest betrayal. The list was growing with a remarkable speed.

“The Theodosia,” Damian corrected, stroking his thumb over her hand. “It is yours.”

I don’t want this cold, hard metal. I want you. She captured her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard. “What my brother said,” her voice caught on a shuddery sob at those hateful, hurtful words Aidan had leveled at him. “They weren’t true. I—”

Damian touched a finger to her lips. “I know that.” A tear slid down her cheek and he caught it with the pad of his thumb. “If your daughter will have me, I intend to marry her,” he spoke with the firm, unyielding tone of a man accustomed to being obeyed.

Her mother wrung her hands together and looked from her husband and sons to Damian. She shook her head once, in an almost pleading manner, a woman afraid this union would tear her family asunder.

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