Page 36 of Matters of a Duke's Heart
“I am done talking,” he raved. “I am done attempting to reason with you! We had a very good thing, Lady Felicity. I was in love with you!”
That declaration startled her enough that she stopped looking for an exit and turned a glare on him, her fear turning to anger. “Well, do you know what I am done with, Lord Radcliffe? I am done with arrogant men like yourself dictating my life. I am my own woman, and I chose to marry the duke. I am a duchess now, and you will not speak to me so rudely. You will remain at a safe distance from me from here on out—me, and my sister.”
“Your sister?” His lip curled. “Heavens, she bores me. She is merely just another pretty face in the crowd.”
“She is the most precious woman you could have ever hoped to marry, and you are not worth her interest,” she spat. “I will not be bothered by you again, Lord Radcliffe, and you will find yourself in receipt of a very strongly-worded written threat from both His Grace and myself. I might be married, but you still ought to not corner a woman alone in an unfamiliar place, especially not while intoxicated.”
She glared down at him, shaking her head, and used his stunned moment at being scolded to escape. She ran from the gardens,momentarily grieving the escape from the dinner party she had sought, and hurried up the steps.
The terrace was too inviting to leave, yet Felicity quickly made her way back toward the sound of the party—only to crash right into another body. This time, hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her immediately, and a protest was on Felicity’s lips until she looked up.
Her breath caught at how near Spencer was to her. His face was pulled in concern.
“Are you—”
His question cut off as his gaze flicked behind her. Felicity heard Lord Radcliffe’s drunken mutterings before she turned to see him. Instinct drove her to press closer to Spencer’s side, only to be tugged aside so he could step in front of her.
“My lady,” he said, proper in public, “we are leaving.” He didn’t look away from Lord Radcliffe, his expression thunderous. Anxiety wound through Felicity. She nodded, although she feared how he would react once they were in the carriage. “Say your goodbyes.”
***
Spencer didn’t speak a word to her until the carriage door was closed and they pulled away from the townhouse, back to Bluebell Manor.
But all he said was her name, and Felicity spilled her own answer.
“I did not know he had followed me from the gardens,” she said quickly, ashamed of what her husband would think. From his tight jaw to the anger that hadn’t dissipated in his eyes, noticed by her by the flash of streetlight at they passed, she didn’t know what was going through his head. “I—I promise you it was nothing sordid, nothing indecent, Spencer, I—”
“Stop,” he said quietly.
Felicity stilled. Slowly, he turned to set that angry gaze on her. In such lighting, the coldness of his eyes looked far chillier, and she found herself shivering. Both at the temperature and his intensity.
“Stop,” he repeated. “I do not think it was anything improper. I—I saw how he wanted to dance with you a second time at the ball the other day.”
“Yes, and he had pursued me before that, but I always tried to avoid him. I am tired of his advances. He pursued me throughmy last Season, too, and is very upset at our marriage. I have absolutely no feelings for him. All I see him as is a suitor my mother liked on notoriety, but I always found him too aggressive. In the gardens, he was rude, and he was drunk, and I put him in his place. Now I’m worried he has set his sights on my sister.”
Spencer looked as though he worked through many thoughts that she knew he wouldn’t share, so she only waited with slow, heavy breaths.
Finally, he spoke. “I believe you,” he muttered. Then his voice grew firmer as he declared, “You do not need to worry about Radcliffe. I will handle him. Both you and Lady Daphne will be safe.” His eyes caught hers, trapping her in a spell that had her stomach swooping.
Her heart swelled as she nodded. “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, surprised at what he offered. There was still tension to his face, but she realized his anger was not aimed at her but at Lord Radcliffe.
“You do not need to thank me.” The gruff mutter made her smile as she turned her face away. Their earlier argument had been forgotten, and she wondered: a man who didn’t care much for an ornament wouldn’t care if it was handled carelessly.
He would keep it safe.
I might be an ornament, she thought, but perhaps I am becoming one he likes.
Chapter 12
“How are your sisters finding their Season so far?” Spencer asked Rupert as they wandered through Langdon Village a week later.
The marquess had joined him in a local inn for a drink, and although Spencer preferred to run his errands alone, he could hardly turn down his friend when Rupert decided to be persuasive. Spencer knew he simply wanted to delve into his married life.
Rupert sighed. “The only reason I could really join you today was because I was visiting Wexley Hall this morning. My mother would not stop insisting that she needs to come to London to oversee the Season herself. I went there directly to appease her. Beatrice, as expected, is still turning down every suitor, but I am keeping tabs on the ones who make her smile before so does so. She wants a husband, but is thinking more of the twins.”
“And they are still terrorizing London’s finest gentlemen?”
“Indeed.” Rupert groaned as they walked through the village square, away from the clerical office Spencer had conducted a meeting in. One of his tenants needed a loan, and Spencer had wanted to ensure he had the means to fund it and provide a direct stream of income to his tenant until the man was back on his feet.
