Page 66 of Her Duke By Accident
Matthew scoffed, holding back the rage he felt growing within his chest. “Danvers?—”
“Perhaps you should reexamine yourself, Your Grace,” Danvers interjected, a fleeting confidence growing in his voice. “Perhaps Lady Alicia is no longer just the woman who happened to stumble upon you at Benedict House that night. Perhaps you have grown to care for her. Perhaps?—”
Without another thought, Matthew slammed a fist into the table. The powerful noise ricocheted throughout Lew’s and Crake’s, putting a pause to the chatter as the gentlemen glanced at the tucked away table. Matthew pushed himself up by his fist, feeling the pain of the punch rattle up his forearm.
“You forget yourself,” Matthew sternly proclaimed.
Noise began to fill the room once more, quietly now, as the men lurking nearby crept closer to listen in.
“Your so-called ‘companionship’ alongside me has made you impertinent.”
Danvers breathed heavily. “Your Grace.”
“She is not Lady Alicia to you,” Matthew growled, leaning towards the baron. “She is Her Grace, she is the duchess. She isnotthe lady. Do you understand me?”
The baron’s eyes went wide. “Y–yes, Your Grace.”
Matthew stared wildly at the gentleman. “If I ever hear you being so careless again, you’ll regret it deeply.”
“I–I apologize, Your Grace,” Danvers said with a quivering voice. “I forgot myself.”
Matthew cleared his throat, feeling the anger settle unpleasantly within his stomach. Suddenly, he ached for home, for the forestry walls of Garvey, and a particular set of emerald green eyes. He reached for his brandy, finishing the glass in a single swoop.
As he turned to bid the baron farewell, Lew’s and Crake’s went quiet once more. Danvers looked over Matthew’s shoulder, eyebrows raised in surprise. Turning, Matthew watched thecrowd of gentlemen part, all of them gasping and muttering to each other.
“The nerve!”
“Who does that poor man think he is?”
“I suppose Lew’s and Crake’s is more open than we realized!”
Out from the murmuring crowd, dressed in his working suit, came the pinch-faced Mr. Livingston. The cold air of London brought a redness to the tip of his button nose, a look of being blown by the wind apparent in his face. The butler looked around the club frantically, his short frame unable to see over most of the men. Finally he set his eyes on Matthew, and he ran to the table.
“Mr. Livingston,” Matthew exclaimed, standing from the table. He glanced over all the eyes that watched with disdain. “Are you out of your mind?” he seethed.
“I would not come if it were not dire, Your Grace,” the butler forced out between quick inhales of air. “Forgive me,” he breathed, “I am not used to such exercise!”
Matthew felt himself pale. “What is dire?”
“There has been an accident, Your Grace.”
“With whom?” he frowned, eyes widening. “Her Grace?”
“No,” Mr. Livingston interrupted quickly, “it was Lady Lucy, Your Grace.”
Matthew went stiff. Despite the club being filled to the brim, Matthew could no longer see them, could no longer feel the penetrating stare of their judgement and disgust. He gripped the butler’s shoulder, retrieving his hat and gloves within a minute before hurrying out the club. The crowd of gentlemen parted as though the duke carried a deadly sickness.
They bolted out of Lew’s and Crake’s, running down the steps to Matthew’s carriage. The driver looked startled, gripping the reins of his horse with a perplexed stare. Matthew went to the carriage, moments away from spouting orders to the driver, when Mr. Livingston called out to him.
“A carriage ride will be too long, Your Grace,” the butler shouted, pulling himself up onto a horse. He gestured to another that fidgeted in place beside him. “The carriage can come back leisurely, I brought you a steed so we may take the shorter way to Garvey.”
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. He ran to the horse, throwing himself up within a second. Gripping the reins, Matthew waited for no word from Mr. Livingston before pressing a heel into the horse’s back.
“Hyah!”the duke shouted.
The horse took off from the gentlemen’s club, the sound of Mr. Livingston’s horse following closely behind. Traveling by steed meant the pair could dive into the woods that surrounded the manor, quickly avoiding the winding roads and rivers.
Matthew watched the world go by in a blur around him, with only the feeling of his hands gripping the reins keeping him grounded. Lucy’s doe-eyed expression came into his mind without his permission, her lively eyes clinging onto him like a ghost pleading for help. He raced faster as a pit of dread formed within him.
