Page 19 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
But the older man went rigid, and a second later, he was shoved off Veronica, toppling aside, stumbling to reclaim his balance.
“What in the heavens—” Barwicke gasped in confusion.
And in the space he left, Veronica’s eyes widened to see the Duke of Westley, his eyes shadowed by the dark hour as he pulled his arm back.
As soon as Lord Barwicke regained composure, the Duke slammed his fist square in the lord’s jaw, sending him reeling.
Veronica sobbed her relief, yanking her dress back into place, feeling dirty from where the lord had tried to pull it up.
Lord Barwicke stumbled again, grabbing onto the column that Veronica had been pinned against, and she hurried out of the way. Without thinking, she moved closer to the Duke.
“Stay away from her,” the Duke growled, stepping towards Lord Barwicke, his fist clenched at his sides.
He didn’t care for his bruised knuckles, it seemed, but the older lord clutched his face, snarling.
“This is between Veronica and me, Your Grace,” Lord Barwicke spat. “Do leave and return back to your women, or are there not enough for you at tonight’s ball?”
“Leave her alone,” the Duke snapped back, much to Veronica’s shock.
She went to stop them both, not wanting to be caught in this altercation, panicking at the thought of anybody overhearing the commotion and coming outside, even to her rescue.
Unchaperoned with two fighting men?Her heart withered in her chest.
But the Duke stepped in front of her, rising to his full height, and she could only look at his powerful shoulders and smell the scent of smoke wafting around him, as if he had been in one of the rooms where the gentlemen went to smoke.
“Stay away,” the Duke repeated.
But Lord Barwicke’s eyes met Veronica’s as she stepped aside the Duke, feeling helpless, and wondering at her chances were of running from both of them.
“Veronica, darling, I am dear friends with your mother. You know this. Youneedme. Do tell His Grace to leave us be, so we can continue our discussion.”
“A discussion,” the Duke said in a low snarl, “does not involve putting your hands up a lady’s dress against her will.”
Veronica was trembling, wishing she could collapse against the column to catch her breath, to let her legs give out, but she didnot want to draw near to the Lord. Because that was exactly what he had almost done, hadn’t he? He had almost… almost…
Her breath punched out of her in harsh gasps. The Duke spared her a glance over her shoulder, looking for all the world like he was angry ather.
Lord Barwicke stepped towards her, but the Duke slammed his fist right back into his face once again, sending him to the floor, cowering.
“How dare you!” Lord Barwicke yelled. “I couldruin you, Westley!”
“I would dare you to try, Lord Barwicke, but a man who does what you resort to only proves that he has no backbone to do anything at all.”
“Veronica, ask him to leave!” the lord insisted. “Ask him! You need my money, do you not?”
But she was silent, paralyzed, and her tongue had gotten lost, along with her sanity and calm. And she could only watch wide-eyed as the lord seethed at her.
“You will regret this deeply, Veronica,” he hissed, “when your mother is crying and when you no longer have any pretty gowns for the next ball. When your weakling coward of a brother does not show up to fund your fancy life, you will regret this.”
“Leave, Barwicke,” the Duke ordered, his voice raising enough that Veronica flinched back.
“I shallnot?—”
The Duke took a threatening step forward, and Lord Barwicke scrambled back, hitting the column before pushing off. His eyes found Veronica’s in the dark, spittle flying from his mouth. “This is not over, Lady Veronica. Far from it.”
Lord Barwicke stormed away, leaving Veronica and the Duke gazing at one another. There was too much tension between them but also lingering in the air, and she despised it. She did not know what to do.
“Are you all right?” The Duke’s low voice sent a lick of warmth through her.
