Page 97 of His Forbidden Duchess
Stephen’s hand trembled as he reached for the cup. His terrified eyes began searching Felix’s face for any sign of mercy, but therewas none. The sheer vehemence in Felix’s face pinned him in place.
Stephen’s fingers retreated from the cup as though it burned, and he let his hand fall to his lap.
“I have nothing to prove,” he muttered in a shaky voice.
“Oh, you already have.”
Stephen’s eyes widened, his mask of charm dissolving as he realized he had been caught. His mouth opened in a weak attempt to speak, but Felix did not give him the chance.
His fist collided with Stephen’s face, sending him tumbling backward. The sickening crunch of bone was followed by a gush of blood from Stephen’s nose, staining his finely pressed collar.
Gasping, Stephen picked himself up from the floor and staggered, trying to regain his footing, but Felix did not relent.
He grabbed Stephen by the lapel, hauling him forward, then threw him to the floor with such force that it rattled the room. Felix barely registered Eloise’s startled cry as he crouched over him, unleashing one punch after another, the force of each strike fueled by venomous hate.
“You thought you could hurt her?” Felix seethed through clenched teeth.
He landed another punch, and Stephen whimpered, blood now running from his mouth. “You tried to poisonmy wife? You are nothing but an evil, despicable swine.”
Stephen tried to raise a hand in a feeble attempt at self-defense, but Felix’s grip tightened on his lapel and hauled him to his feet with a cold, lethal calm.
“I shouldkillyou for what you tried to do,” he snarled, his eyes blazing.
Stephen stammered, his words slurred by the blood trickling from his mouth, “I—I wanted… revenge… for Radcliffe…”
Felix’s grip tightened, his gaze chilling.
Revenge for what? Felix may have taken Radcliffe’s money, but Radcliffe took his own life. Radcliffe had put himself into debt by gambling. Felix was not responsible for Radcliffe’s decisions; he was merely a bystander.
With a quick, ruthless shove he slammed Stephen against the wall, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.
“Get. Out. If I ever see you again, you will wish I had killed you today.”
Felix thrust Stephen out into the hallway, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a death sentence. “Leave thecountry. And if you ever come near Eloise again, I will hunt you down and finish you.”
Stephen stumbled away, bloodied and petrified beyond words. He knew without a doubt that Felix meant every word.
Limping badly, he scurried out of the house like a cockroach, disappearing into the night.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
As the door slammed shut in the wake of Stephen’s hasty departure, a thick silence blanketed the room.
Eloise sat frozen on the sofa, her heart still racing, her mind trying to catch up with everything that had just happened.
Felix stood by the door, his fists clenched and his chest rapidly rising and falling. His entire body emanated intense anger, but as he turned and looked at Eloise, his expression softened and his eyes immediately filled with concern.
He quickly crossed the room and crouched down next to her. His warmth comforted Eloise, and she struggled against the urge to curl into his body and wrap herself in his protective arms.
“Darling,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with worry, “are you all right?”
She looked into his eyes and managed a shaky nod and a small smile, gratitude washing through her.
“I will be fine,” she said. “Just a little… I am not sure. Not quite right. I did not realize that…” Her words trailed off as she shuddered, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach where a faint ache reminded her of the danger she’d narrowly escaped. “How did you know?”
Felix shrugged. “Lucky guess, I suppose. When Jeremy received?—”
“Jeremy?” She looked up at him, her eyes bright. Had they made amends?
