Page 42 of Duke with a Lie (Wicked Dukes Society #4)

There was hurt in her eyes; he read it there. And he was the cause of it. She shook her head slightly, as if to deny the truth of what had burned hot and bright between them—the passion, the desire, the yearning.

But he wasn’t having it.

She wasn’t marrying the Earl of Carnis.

She was going to marry him. And damn the consequences.

But she was staring at him, silent accusation in her sky-blue gaze. Saying nothing. As aloof and removed from him as she’d been these last few days.

So Aubrey did what he had to do.

He turned back to Whit. “You should know that I ruined her.”

Whit’s brows snapped together. “You did what?”

“I ruined her. I took her innocence. And now, I’ll marry her. It’s the least I can do to answer for my many sins.”

His congenial friend was suddenly emanating with rage. “How the devil… Explain, now, curse you.”

“Aubrey, no,” Rhiannon said faintly.

He glanced in her direction, thinking her pale again. She was clutching her stomach. Good God, was she going to be ill?

“ Aubrey ?” Whit repeated in a snarl. “Rhiannon, you owe me an explanation. Why are you being so damned familiar with Richford?”

She swayed. Aubrey saw the moment they lost her before her eyes rolled back in her head. He started forward and caught her in his arms as she swooned.

Rhiannon regained consciousness to the sound of two grown men bickering like children.

“Get away from her, you despicable swine.”

“She’s ill, you arse. I’m tending to her.”

“Get your beastly paws off her.”

“Would you have preferred I allow her to fall to the floor and injure herself, Whit?”

“I’m going to beat you to within an inch of your miserable life.”

Her eyes fluttered open at the last, particularly damning threat.

She was reclined on a settee, Aubrey hovering over her in a protective pose, as if to keep Rhys from causing her harm, her hand clasped tightly in his as if he feared she would leave him if he released her.

Just beyond him, looking angry enough to tear apart the room with his bare hands, stood her brother.

“I deserve a drubbing and worse,” Aubrey agreed. “But let’s make certain Rhiannon is well first.”

“Do not speak of her with such familiarity,” Rhys snapped.

“Stop fighting at once,” she managed.

Two pairs of eyes swung to her, both concerned, one also filled with fury.

“How are you?” Aubrey asked, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead with his free hand. “What happened? Have you taken ill?”

She wasn’t entirely sure herself what had happened. Only that she had been feeling sick to her stomach, and then the room had seemed to tip sideways, and her vision had gone black around the edges.

“I am well enough, I think,” she managed.

“Stop touching my sister,” Rhys growled, his voice taking on a lethal edge.

“I’m fine,” she reassured Aubrey, tugging her hand free of his grasp. “You should go.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going until this is over.”

“Until what is over?” she asked, frowning up at him. “I cannot marry you. I’m promised to Carnis.”

“To the devil with Carnis. You don’t love him.”

“Aubrey,” she protested, not certain of what to say.

She didn’t love the earl, but he had entrapped her. Then there was the matter of her brother hovering over them. Rhys knew something of what had happened between the two of them, but hardly all of it.

But before she could say more, Rhys tackled Aubrey from behind. The two of them landed in an inglorious heap on the Axminster, her brother’s fists flying as they tussled. With a cry, she rose to a seated position.

“Stop it, Rhys!”

Aubrey wasn’t even bothering to defend himself. He was simply allowing her brother to pummel him. Rhys landed a punch to Aubrey’s jaw, the thud echoing sickly in the chamber.

“Rhys!” she cried out again.

But her brother was a man possessed, his fists flying.

“Aubrey, do something,” she tried.

“I—umph—deserve it,” he managed, wincing when Rhys landed a blow to his ribs. “Let him hit me.”

Men! What was wrong with them? She rose from her settee, looking frantically about the room for something she could use as a weapon. Her gaze lit on the fire poker, and she rushed for it, deciding it would have to do.

Rhiannon snatched it up, still feeling dizzied but too frantic to care. Someone had to put an end to this nonsense. She wasn’t going to primly sit there whilst Rhys thrashed Aubrey to death and Aubrey did nothing to stop him.

Grimly, she raised the fire poker and landed a blow on her brother’s right shoulder. He howled with pain and rolled off Aubrey, pinning her with an accusatory look.

“Rhiannon, why the devil would you hit me with the damned fire poker?”

“Because you were going to kill him if I didn’t do something to stop you,” she explained.

Aubrey sat up, bruises mottling his face, blood dripping down his nose. “I wouldn’t have allowed him to kill me, minx.”

Rhys snarled. “What did you call her?”

Aubrey calmly extracted a handkerchief from his coat and pressed it to his nose, absorbing the blood. “A term of endearment. The sort of thing one calls a lover.”

“How have you been bedding her, you faithless rogue?” Rhys demanded, moving toward Aubrey once more. “How did you get to her?”

Rhiannon held up her poker in warning. “No more attacking him, Rhys,” she warned. “I mean it.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed on her. “I’m your brother. It is my duty to protect you from scoundrels like him.”

“He is your friend,” she reminded him.

“He was my friend,” Rhys grumbled. “Until he ruined my innocent sister.”

“I wanted to be ruined!” she shouted, losing her patience. “I didn’t travel to Great-Aunt Bitsy as I said I did. I went to Wingfield Hall instead.”

She was practically panting, aware of her brother’s eyes on her, staring with shock as she waved the fire poker to punctuate her wild declarations.

This wasn’t how she had envisioned telling Rhys the truth.

Heavens, she had been convinced that she would never tell him.

But he needed to know. Aubrey wasn’t solely to blame for what had happened.

“What do you mean, you went to Wingfield Hall?” Rhys asked, his voice hoarse.

“I know about your club. I know about the wicked house parties.” Her cheeks went hot, and for a moment, she had to look away to gather her bravado before continuing.

“I was curious. I decided to attend. I knew that Mater wouldn’t notice me gone until it was too late, if at all.

I also knew that Aubrey was going to be there. ”

“Richford,” Rhys snarled.

Rhiannon nodded. “I have had a tendre for him for a long time. Mater insisted I accept the earl’s suit, and well, I suppose I considered stealing away to the house party my last opportunity to see if I could make Richford fall in love with me.”

She could feel Aubrey’s questioning gaze on her. So she continued, keeping her eyes on her brother as she unburdened herself. “But when I arrived, Richford instantly recognized me, despite my mask. He tried repeatedly to persuade me to leave, and I was convinced I had wasted my time until…”

“Dear God.” Rhys shook his head. “You needn’t say more.”

“You see?” she asked her brother. “I seduced him, not the other way ’round. Everything that happened was only what I wanted. Until it wasn’t.”

“If you hurt her, I’ll bloody well end you,” Rhys threatened Aubrey.

“I knew he was a rake who didn’t believe in love,” she continued firmly. “But I naively hoped he might make an exception for me. I was wrong. He broke my heart. That is all. You mustn’t be angry with him.”

“I will be angry with him if I wish to be. He was my trusted friend, like a brother to me, and he dishonored you beneath my very nose,” Rhys spat.

“I am every bit the villain you paint me to be,” Aubrey told Rhys solemnly. “But I am also the man who loves your sister.”

She swayed on her feet, inhaling sharply, sure she had misheard.

“What?” At last, she allowed herself to look at Aubrey to find him staring at her, his emerald gaze unwavering even as his left eye began swelling shut.

“I love you, Rhiannon,” he said softly.

The fire poker fell from her suddenly numb fingers, hitting the Axminster with a dull thump.

“You…you love me?” she repeated. “But you don’t believe in love. You told me so.”

He shook his head, lowering his handkerchief so she could see his handsome, battered face without obstruction. “I was wrong. I do believe in love. You taught me that. And you taught me something else too, minx.”

She pressed a hand over her mouth, unable to speak past the tears welling up inside, clogging her throat.

“You taught me that I would gladly be your grasshopper for eternity, if it meant I could have a glimpse of you every dawn.”

“Grasshopper?” Rhys interjected with disgust. “What twaddle is this?”

“You do love me,” she said with wonder, ignoring her brother.

“I do.” He tried to smile, but it turned into more of a wince. “This isn’t how I envisioned asking you to be my wife, but, Lady Rhiannon Northwick, will you marry me?”

Aubrey loved her.

He believed in love.

He had come for her.

Joy mingled with disbelief, emerging as a choked sob. “I want nothing more than to be your wife. B-but I told Carnis I would marry him.”

“Throw him over,” Aubrey said without hesitation.

She swallowed hard. “I’m afraid it won’t be as easy as that.

Lady Heathcote paid him a call. She recognized me at the house party.

She told him about the time you and I spent together.

When I told him I couldn’t marry him because I was in love with someone else, he demanded that I wed him anyway or he would let my secret be known.

I was afraid of the scandal it would make for Rhys and his betrothed, so I agreed. ”

“Did everyone know you were at bloody Wingfield Hall except for me?” Rhys demanded.

“That bastard,” Aubrey swore, his face darkening with anger. “How dare he threaten and manipulate you into marrying him? And Lady Heathcote, too. I will fix this, Rhiannon. I vow to you that I will protect you and right the mistakes I’ve made. Do you trust me?”

She stared at him, searching his gaze, and found the answers she was looking for. “I do.”

“Grant me a few hours, and it will be done,” he said, rising to his feet.

Rhys rose as well. “You aren’t going alone, Richford. You’ve made enough of a mess of things.”

“No more fighting, the two of you,” Rhiannon scolded them, not sure she trusted Rhys and Aubrey together without her just now. “I’ll have your promises.”

Aubrey nodded. “You have mine. No more fighting. At least, not with Whit.”

She turned to her brother, who looked as if he were in great pain. “Very well. I won’t hit Richford again.” He paused. “Unless he deserves it.”

“ Rhys .”

“Fine,” her brother muttered. “I won’t hit Richford. But I’m going to fetch Mater to sit with you until we return.”

“I’m perfectly well,” she protested, realizing she hadn’t had a chance to tell Aubrey her suspicion that she was carrying his child yet.

Which was probably wise. She would do so without an irate brother as an audience.

“Your mother will sit with you,” Aubrey added sternly, frowning at her. “Perhaps we should call for a physician, Whit. She looks pale.”

Her brother nodded. “She rather does.”

“ She can hear you talking about her as if she isn’t standing here,” Rhiannon pointed out, nettled. “I will sit with Mater if it pleases you until you both return.”

“It does,” Rhys and Aubrey said in unison.

Her brother glared at Richford. “She’s my sister, damn your hide.”

“And she’ll be my wife,” Aubrey pointed out.

“ If I give you permission to wed her,” Rhys countered.

“You’ll give it,” Aubrey said, sure of himself.

Rhys grumbled something unpleasant beneath his breath. And then the two of them left the study. Rhiannon watched them go, her hopes for the future dependent upon them both.