Page 63 of A Duke Changes Everything
“I’d heard you were quite the man of business, Tremayne, but you’ve proven yourself a rather hapless negotiator.” The tremor in his voice turned what he intended as a victory speech into a pathetic display. “I demand two thousand poundsandthe surrender of my son’s vowels.”
Nicholas inhaled deeply, pretending to give the matter due thought. In truth, he knew Lyle the younger would ask to have his debts forgiven. Spencer, the factotum at his club, would know for certain, but he suspected they were worth a good deal more than two thousand pounds. Drawing out the suspense longer seemed cruel.
So he waited another sixty seconds, rolled back his shoulders, and fixed Lord Lyle with a hard stare. “Done.”
Nick dug deep for any impulse to be thebetter man, to let Lyle and his progeny turn tail and strut away as if they’d won the day. But Gregory Lyle still sat on the horse like a king on his throne, sneering at Nick.
“Come down now, boy,” Lord Lyle said as if speaking to a child version of his heir.
“Let me help.” Nick gripped the younger Lyle’s boot, ripped it from the stirrup, and shoved. The man flailed, arms pinwheeling in the air, and then tipped over the horse’s side. He landed with a squelching thud in the muddy stable yard.
“How dare you?” Lyle the younger stared up at him in disbelief.
Nick leaned closer, battling the urge to haul the man up by his muck-splashed shirtfront. “I dare because everything you see before you is mine.” Out of the corner of his eye, the father crept closer. Nick straightened, ripped the walking stick from the old man’s hands, and slammed it against his bony chest. “Go, Lyle. Get off my land and keep your son out of my club.”
Nick shot Mina a glance over his shoulder. “Miss Thorne, go inside and prepare a check for Lord Lyle along with a note indicating my agreement to destroy his son’s vowels.”
She didn’t obey his command. Instead, she stood rooted in place, eyes wide, throat working as if she had something to say.
But then younger Lyle got to his feet, wiped himself off, and tucked his head and shoulders as he charged forward like a perturbed bull.
“You’re nothing but a by-blow,” he screamed. “A charlatan. Go back to London. You don’t belong here.”
Nick struck an arm out, grabbed a handful of shirt, and dragged the puny nobleman close. “I do belong here, you whinging nob. I’m the bloody Duke of Tremayne.” He shoved hard and Gregory Lyle staggered back toward his father.
Tobias immediately came forward to retrieve the stallion. Nick waved him off and took the horse, leading the beast toward Mina.
“Here,” he said, surrendering the reins to her. “Now one of the horses in Enderley’s stable is yours.”
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning Mina paced the small confines of her father’s office until her legs ached. She’d never been one to waste time treading a straight line back and forth to nowhere when she had lists upon lists of tasks that needed doing.
Maybe she was picking up the duke’s habits.
Nick, Lord Lyle had called him, and the name fit. In less than a fortnight, he’d managed to score himself on her heart.
And now he was gone.
When she looked across the hall through the half-open door, he wasn’t there as he’d usually be, matching her pacing with his own. He wasn’t in the house at all. She’d risen early, eager to see him, and learned from Mrs. Scribb that he and Wilder had gone into the village to meet with Mr. Thurston about repairs to the tenant cottages.
She’d started the morning by penning a letter to two masons in the village who might have use of the stone from the old tower. If they were willing to demolish the structure, she’d have it done immediately. Part of her wanted to take a maul and hack away at the stones herself.
Enderley would never be the same. She knew its secrets now. Ugly truths she’d never wanted to imagine. This morning, for the first time, the halls felt cold and empty. She sensed a pall over the house, and she began to understand that was how Nick might always see Enderley.
Footsteps sounded from far off down the hall. Mina held her breath, shoved a few stray strands of hair into the bun at her nape, and then swept her palms down the front of her bodice and skirt.
Was it him? The tread sounded lighter, the gait shorter than his long-legged stride.
“Mina?” Colin appeared in the doorway, a smile lighting his face. Then his grin immediately dropped into a frown. He’d always been far too perceptive. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Come in. What brings you to Enderley this morning?” She tried for cheerfulness and hid her unease by fussing with the pen and ink pot at the corner of her blotter.
“I was supposed to come by yesterday. Don’t you remember? A project delayed me, but I heard there was trouble with Lord Lyle and his son. Are you all right?” He flopped into the chair in front of her desk and regarded her with a knitted brow. “I know you and Gregory Lyle have a bit of a history.”
Good grief, had the rumors spread so widely in the village that even her cousin, who usually kept his head buried in books and experiments, knew of her foolishness?
“Thought I should come check on you, and discover whether you’re expecting me to call him out for a duel.”
