Page 87 of The Duke's Carriage Window
Darius’s gaze flicked momentarily to Meredith before settling back on Harry. They both knew that Uncle Ben had never said such a thing on his deathbed.
“I see,” said Darius, feigning understanding. “Well, I must say she has not been a burden to me. Far from it.”
There was a glint in Harry’s eye as he misinterpreted Darius’s words. “Come now, Darius. You have your pick of women, fashionable courtesans far more worthy of you. You don’t need her. Send her home with me, otherwise she’ll start putting on airs.”
Darius looked at Meredith in mock disapproval. “I say, have you been putting on airs?”
Meredith feigned shame. “Well, I did ask Harry to leave before you arrived.”
“Oh I’m sure that’s forgivable,” said Darius, his lips twitching ever so slightly as if he fought off a smile.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Stop playing games, Darius. It’s what’s best for her, and you know it. It’s not like she belongs here.” Harry snorted. It was clear he believed Darius would agree with him.
Darius crossed his arms over his chest, but his tone remained calm. “Ahh, but she does belong here, cousin. You see, Uncle Ben sent her to me to help her find a husband among my peers.”
“A husband?” Harry said in disbelief. “But who would marry her? She’s a bastard.”
“Well, it just so happens that we did find her a suitable match, didn’t we?” Darius looked to Meredith, who nodded.
“Oh yes, the most splendid husband.”
Darius looked at Harry. “Yes, I’m afraid you just missed the wedding. I regret that you didn’t get an invitation, Harry, but, you see, I do not like you.”
Harry’s eyes bulged. “What? You don’t…?” he was at a loss for words. “Then who did she marry? What fool would take the wretched chit?”
“This fool,” Darius interrupted as he pointed a finger into his own chest. “I adore her so much so that I married her this morning. The Prince of Wales himself gave her away.”
Harry’s eyes bulged slightly. “What?”
“I am Meredith’s husband, Harry. Now, tell me again what you called my wife.” The conversational tone was gone, replaced by a dark, furious growl. Darius waited, standing perfectly still but Meredith could sense her husband was an instant away from unleashing all that raw power coiled so tightly up in his hard, beautiful body.
“Darius, tell me you’re joking,” said Harry. “Meredith? A duchess? She is nobody, she?—”
Poor, stupid Harry never saw the blow coming. Darius hit him hard enough to send him flying into the wall. He slumped to the ground, out cold.
“She isn’t nobody. She is the love of my life,” Darius said to the unconscious man on the floor. “Chelsea?” Darius called out.
The butler appeared behind them in the doorway. “Your Grace?”
“Please take my cousin out to his coach and have the driver return him to Yorkshire. Pay the man handsomely to see it done at once.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Chelsea called for a footman to help him lift Harry up and carry him out of the room.
The moment they were alone, Darius gently pulled Meredith into his arms. All of the violence and coiled rage inside him was gone. He was her Darius again.
Darius lifted her chin so she looked up at him. “I’m sorry he said what he did.”
“I’m not,” she replied. “Hearing him say those words, it tested me rather than break me. It made me realize that such words have no power over me. Not anymore.” She curled her arms around his neck. “You taught me to be brave, to fight for what mattered, and damn the rest.”
Darius chuckled. “Tell me Harry is included in damning the rest?”
“Most certainly,” she said with a giggle.
“He will never hurt you again, now that you’re my duchess.”
She smiled up at him. “I shouldn’t love it so much, but I do.”
“Love what?” His eyes grew soft in a way that made her knees weak.
