Page 2

“Oh, I know enough,” Yvette interrupted, her voice biting as she turned her gaze back to the duke. “Forgive my impertinence, Your Grace, but I cannot allow you to kill my brother.”

The duke’s brows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his otherwise stoic features. She wasn’t sure if it was her audacity or her words that had startled him, but either way, she pressed on.

“This matter does not concern ye, as the marquess has said,” the duke said firmly, his brogue thickening with his frustration. “I will not be lectured by a lass who knows nothing of this situation.”

Yvette’s jaw tightened at his dismissal, though something in the way he spoke stirred an unwelcome warmth in her chest. His accent was far more pronounced now, slipping fully into the Scottish that softened his consonants and elongated his vowels.

She pushed the distraction aside, narrowing her eyes.

“I know of the situation,” she snapped, her tone sharp, “And I can assure you, Your Grace, this certainly isnotthe way to settle it.”

“Yvette—” Edward began, but she silenced him with a withering glare.

“How could you drag our family name into such disgrace? Do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused?” Her voice rose with her fury, and Edward took an uneasy step back, clearly unnerved by her outrage.

The duke, however, remained still, watching her with an unreadable expression. There was something—almost amusement—in his hazel eyes, though his frown remained firmly in place.

“My lady,” he said slowly, his voice dropping an octave, “ye’ve got more courage than sense. I’ll grant ye that.” His lips twitched slightly, as though he were suppressing a smile, but his tone remained grave. “But this isnae a game. Step aside, or I’ll have no choice but to move ye meself.”

Yvette’s breath hitched at his words, her pulse quickening for reasons she refused to acknowledge. She straightened her spine, and lifted her chin defiantly.

“Then you shall have to move me, Your Grace,” she replied evenly, daring him to make good on his threat.

Edward groaned again, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “For heaven’s sake, Yvette, do not provoke him!”

But she ignored her brother entirely. Her focus remained on the duke, her gaze steady and unwavering. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognized the absurdity of her position—defying a man of his rank and stature, a man known for his ruthless reputation. And yet, she refused to yield.

The duke regarded her for a short moment, but said nothing, so she turned her attention to her brother.

“Edward,” Yvette’s voice trembled with anger as she glared at him, her chest heaving. “You ruined a lady, you dishonored your wife, and now you want to engage in a duel? What happens if you kill him? You’ll be a murderer—a man who not only ruined a duke’s sister, but also killed the duke himself!”

The duke cleared his throat, a deep sound that drew her attention. His gaze switched between Yvette and her brother.

It seemed her words had stirred something in him—not guilt, but a deep irritation at the audacity of her claim, as though he could not believe Edward could best him in a duel—as though the notion was laughable.

Even so, Yvette was well aware of the fact that her brother barely knew how to handle a pistol properly.

“Ye’re making a grave mistake, my lady,” the duke said. “If ye think meddling will save yer brother, ye couldn’t be more wrong.”

His tone was meant to send her scurrying, but instead of retreating, she glared at him, before returning her attention to her brother.

The duke cocked his head slightly, a flicker of amusement breaking through his irritation.

In that moment, the wind whipped through the field, causing the edges of her coat to shift. Yvette saw the duke’s eyes darting to her chest for a brief moment, as she huffed in frustration.

He quickly averted his gaze, swallowing hard.

“You know what it was like for me.” Yvette’s voice broke through his wayward thoughts, and Edward refocused on her. “All thoseyears locked away at St. Catherine’s because a man ruined my life. And now you’ve done the same thing to another lady?”

Her lips trembled and she blinked rapidly.

“No, Yvette,” Edward interrupted, his voice tinged with desperation. “You don’t know the truth of what happened?—”

“Do not defend yourself!” she snapped, her fury now aimed squarely at her brother. She turned her attention back to the duke, her eyes pleading, yet defiant. “Do you truly think blood will cleanse your sister’s honor?”

The duke stepped closer, the gravel crunching beneath his boots. ‘

“Step. Aside,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. The command hung heavy in the air. “This is between yer brother and me. Do not interfere.”