Page 81
Story: Taken By the Duke of Stone
With that he rose to his feet and threw back the glass of whiskey. "If you ever hurt her-"
"I will not."
"If you ever hurt her," he insisted, "there is no corner of the earth where I will not find you Patrick. I will use all the wealth and power at my disposal and rain down hell on you."
The promise hung in the air for a moment and then the viscount nodded.
As the Duke began to leave, the other man stopped him.
"Wait."
He looked over his shoulder and saw that Patrick had risen to his feet too, "thank you."
The Duke continued on his way.
"You look happy," Lady Hartfield said as soon as the Duke left the drawing room.
Lavinia turned to her aunt with a blinding smile, "he loves me."
The woman snorted, "I could have told you that for free. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you exactly that a while ago. He looks at you like you are the brightest star in his sky."
"I think I just needed to hear him say it."
"Finally, you can stop giving me sleepless nights with your sad eyes."
A memory suddenly flashed in her head and she raised her head sharply to stare at her aunt, "what is the story behind Lord Forsythe?"
The older woman pressed her mouth into a thin line, "what is this about? Is there a problem?"
She shrugged innocently. "I am simply curious. I heard rumors about him, and I think I consider him an acquaintance now, so I would like to know."
The older woman waved her hand, mouth set in a mulish line, "you should not pay any of the gossip any mind. They are just needlessly cruel. There has been a lot of tragedy surrounding the Forsythe family but none of it has been by any fault of theirs. They are just victims of unfortunate circumstances. That is all."
Of course Lavinia knew how cruel thetoncould be, but she also suspected that there was something about the Marquess. She decided to forget the entire affair though. After all, she had onlywanted to know for the sake of him becoming her replacement groom.
"There is something that I must do," she told her aunt and then dashed away, up the stairs to her room. She grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled down a message to the Marquess that she needed to see him. She would have the courtesy of telling him to his face that she had been wrong about ending her engagement to the Duke.
Done writing, she handed the letter off to one of the remaining footmen with precise instructions to get back a response before he returns.
In about a half hour, the footman returned with a message from the Marquess to meet him at the park. She changed into a walking dress and boots and left the house, her maid trailing after her.
It was easy to spot the Marquess at the park. In every setting, he seemed to be set apart from the crowd, and yet their eyes were drawn to him, always staring and whispering.
As soon as he caught sight of her, he began to walk around the wide trunk of the tree he had been leaning on. She followed after him slowly, unsure.
"I wanted to save you the pleasure of being gawked at," he told her as soon as she was in front of him, "What have you decided?"
She shrugged, "that I do not care what your story is after all. It must be bad for you to become something of so much gossip, but it would not have stopped me from wanting you as my groom."
"Ah," he chuckled.
"What is so amusing, my lord?"
"You have decided to hedge your bet on your Duke at the end of the day," he pushed off from the tree, "I must commend you for taking the easier, smarter option."
"He loves me," she didn't think that reality would ever cease to be wonderful to her. He loved her. He had not just said the words to her, he had given her a full picture of exactly what she meant to him, and it bore a striking resemblance to what she felt too.
"I see."
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