Page 8 of Her Beastly Duke
A pained look entered his eyes. “I am not fond of duels.”
The duke raised his hand and ran it over the scar. Her heart tugged, and she ached for him. She quickly composed herself, not wanting him to think she pitied him. Duncan always said she wore her emotions on her sleeve, but not tonight. Not for the duke.
Briar shifted her stance. “I will not maim you.”
The duke chuckled. “How magnanimous of you. I wasn’t concerned you would harm me. It’s just that I have no appetite for duels. I learned long ago it is a foolish endeavor.”
“Oh.” Briar deflated, but she was not ready to give up.
“However, I am... considerably intrigued by you, and something tells me I would not be able to pry the information from you unless I employ wicked means.”
Her heart jerked. What wicked means does he refer to? The gleam in his gaze made a flush go through her body, and she did not want to find out. Briar quickly took two steps forward and engaged the duke with a flash of steel, which he easily parried.
The clash of the rapiers echoed, and light reflected on the steel. The duke stepped backandwas quite agile for a tall, broad man. Interesting. Briar waited, and then she understood he would not attack her, so she jumped forward, attacking in a flurry of movement that was so swift that the duke took a few steps backward as Briar pressed her advance.
“Bravo. I can see why you are so confident. Your skill is superior.” She heard the admiration in his voice.
Briar narrowed her eyes and appraised him. “I admit you are incredible as well. Your Grace.”
She did not wait for his reply. Briar attacked, and the duke parried with deftness. He flicked the rapier with such skill that she almost lost her own. She quickly retreated. She did not wantto acknowledge his skill, but he was already anticipating and countering her move.Drat!
“What is it they say? Even the devil himself must have his due,” the duke said as he eyed her warily.
“You liken me to the devil?” Briar swiftly moved forward, slashed, and stabbed.
This time, the duke stood his ground and performed a feint, luring Briar to attack left. Then, the duke slipped under her flank in a counter-riposte.
He was so close that she could see his eyes, an icy blue reminiscent of a harsh, bitter winter, yet strikingly beautiful in their cold intensity.
They burned with suppressed emotions, and a shiver ran down her spine. She quickly put some distance between them. The duke’s maneuver was so flawlessly executed thatshe helplessly felt awe. He was an excellent fighter with a wide range of skills, but Briar was not about to give up. There was too much hanging in the balance.
Briar was already breathing a bit raggedly, but the duke appeared composed. She lunged forward, the duke parried, and a few moves later, his rapier was pointed at her neck.Oh, no!
“Do you concede?” The duke asked in a mocking drawl.
Briar would never concede. She did not want to admit defeat. Defeat meant she would never be able to flee, and she was now closer to her chance to escape because their positions had shifted, with her now being between him and the door. “I do not concede.”
His eyes widened, and she quickly switched the rapier to her left hand, stepped back, lunged, and knocked the rapier from the duke’s hand. Her heart was racing, and her skin tingled with excitement. It was a cheeky move, and it worked because the duke was not expecting it. He thought she would hand him her rapier and bow to his exceptional skills.
Her triumph was short-lived. He darted forward, snaked his arm around her waist and hauled her against him. Briar was so shocked the rapier dropped from her nerveless fingers. The duke exuded masculinity and strength, and it would only be a matter of time before he overpowered her and perhaps bore her to the ground.
Was this what he meant by wicked means?
Briar trembled, and her heart hammered when she remembered the last time she was alone with a purported gentleman who wanted to have his way with her. The memory caused her entire body to shiver and her palms to sweat. Briar recalled Lord Fredrick's fetid breath when he whispered that he would have her as his wife so they could steal a kiss. She felt the sheen of perspiration beading on her forehead. “Release me!”
The duke complied immediately and stepped back, a frown touching his face. “Tell me your name.”
Briar dazedly shook her head. There was only one thing left to do. A quick glance at his feet revealed they were bare, and he was unlikely to pursue her with bare feet. Briar whirled around, ran for the door, yanked it open, and charged down the hallway.
“Bloody hell!” The duke swore behind her.
Briar heard the threat in his voice, and it said …wait until I catch up with you. He was scampering inside, and she dearly hoped he would not find his boots anytime soon. She darted along, thinking she just needed a bit more time to make her way outdoors, and then she would be free. Her hands grew clammy, and she could hear her breaths go in and out.
Briar could only think of her escape. Her pace accelerated as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Her stocking feet slapped against the wooden floor as she propelled toward the stairs. Briar slowed her speed and hovered for a moment because she did not want to break her neck, tumbling down a flight of stairs. She quickly rallied and carefully bounded down the stairs untilshe made it to the landing. Exhilarated, she lunged forward, picked up pace as she ran through the hallway, yanked open the front door, and rushed into the darkness.
CHAPTER 4
As Julius scrambled to find his boots, he could hardly believe what his quiet evening had morphed into. He finally found the damned boots under his desk where he had kicked them off. He sat in the nearest chair and quickly pulled them on.
