Page 61 of Dukes All Night Long
“Is it?” The man leaned forward, entirely nonplussed.
“He is the one who handed you over into my care as collateral for his gambling losses, did he not?” The words struck her that time, as resounding as a backhanded slap.
“He ruined your reputation and your future for another chance at my tables?” Slap.
“He is prepared to leave you to me should his luck not turn tonight?” Slap.
“Stop!” Kate snapped. She was shocked when he obeyed, though she didn’t believe she’d cowed the dark angel. He may have stopped speaking, but his deadly sharp eyes cut straight through her, flaying her, laying her bare just as his words had. She tried not to squirm.
They glared at one another for long, tense moments of silence. Kate’s heart pounded uncomfortably, but she refused to apologize for raising her voice. He had been in the wrong…regardless of how painfully true his words had been.
The spell was finally broken when he grunted, “Eat.”
She was not quite certain what to make of the command, but he seemed content to leave their interaction at that as he took a letter-opener from a drawer, using one swift, smooth movement to open a missive. The blade glinted white-gold in the firelight.
Having a blade like that in her possession would go a long way toward making her feel safer.
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Duke smoothly slid the implement closer to his side of the desk and well out of her reach.
“You are not eating,” he observed flatly without bothering to remove his eyes from the letter in his hands—hands, she noticed, that were rather large with scars on their knuckles.
She did not know what to say, so she remained silent.
Finally, Duke looked up. His coal-colored eyes fixed on her with piercing intensity. “If you do not eat, then my cook will be offended. She takes great pride in her scones.” The words were spoken without emotion, but could she be imagining some humor there?
“Anyone who attempts to foist food upon someone is either lying about the quality of the food or is far too invested in the other person’s appetite.
” The corners of his eyes twitched as Kate spoke.
“You have no reason to take an interest in my appetite, so I can only believe that the scones are not nearly as delicious as they are purported to be.”
“The scones are quite good; you will like them. And no one will be wasting away on my watch,” he grunted in a curt dismissal and he looked back down at his papers.
“I will hardly waste away.”
He heaved a sigh and looked up again.
She didn’t know where she found the temerity—perhaps it was his ridiculous insistence that she eat the scones—but her lips lifted in a ghost of a smile when she said, “I beg your pardon; am I preventing you from working? It might be best for all parties involved if you simply unlocked the door and let me leave.” She glanced around the room and frowned when something occurred to her for the first time. “Where did you even come from?”
He gave up all pretense of work and leaned back in his chair, cocking a brow at her. “Do you know who I am?”
“Should I?” They were both aware that she knew full well who he was—that he was the notorious Duke of Covent Garden—but it was pleasing to watch the spark of fire in his gaze.
So much of her life was out of her control and that night had only underscored it; taking back a modicum of power was satisfying.
Two more beats of silence fell between them before Duke did something unexpected: He grinned.
Kate’s heart skipped one beat.
Then two.
What man had the right to be so handsome?
Something niggled at the back of her memory like dandelion down spinning in the wind, fleeting and too far away to catch once you realized it was there.
His next words dashed it away. “You have some bite, Lady Bell.”
“You think highly of yourself, Duke.”
“What man would not if he owned the empire beneath this roof?” he asked, his arms spreading wide.
She might have been more convinced by the bravado had she not caught the briefest glimpse of something behind his mask.
It flitted away too quickly for her to decipher, but there was no denying that it had been there.
“A man’s worth is not necessarily measured by the amount of coin in his pocket.”
Duke’s head tilted back and he looked down his long, well-formed nose at her.
His nostrils flared; his sensual mouth curved downward at the edges.
She’d clearly insulted the man. It probably had not been the wisest thing to do when she was currently entirely at his mercy, but the words could not be unsaid.
The intensity of his glare only dug the well of her regret deeper.
She was about to apologize when he said, “Many would beg to differ. Your brother included.”
Kate prickled all over again. “Where there are men with money, there will be men like you finding ways to relieve them of it.”
His mouth curled back up into a wicked grin. “And, thus, the world turns,” he purred, effectively unleashing a shiver of anticipation from her head to her toes. “Where there are men foolish enough to throw money away, there are men like me who are smart enough to capitalize upon their hubris.”
“What do you have against the ton ?” Kate asked.
It had long been speculated that Duke held a grudge against the upper class.
His business catered only to the social elite and membership invitations were extended only to those who might provide the best opportunity for revenue.
Weak-willed men. Young, foolish men who came into an obscenely large inheritance.
Men who flaunted their wealth. Men who took advantage of others, stepped on the people beneath them, in the name of lining their pockets.
There was no denying many of these men deserved to be taken down a peg, but they were being bled dry.
Generations of wealth were emptied from their accounts into Duke’s.
“Who said I do?” He crossed his arms over his chest and the gesture accentuated the size and strength of his arms, the thick bulges of muscle beneath his tailored coat. Unlike her brother, he appeared to wear no padding beneath his clothing.
Her brother .
“What do you have against my brother?”
His eyes flashed. “Lord Lufton owes my books no less than three thousand pounds; did he disclose that to you?”
Kate felt dizzy. Three thousand pounds? How could he possibly have lost that much money in such a short amount of time? That was nearly the entire estate’s income for the year!
She swallowed her unease. “So I am to stand in for his debts then? Is that what I have been determined to be worth?”
“Lady Bell…” Duke drawled as he steepled his fingers atop the desk; “I am certain you are worth far, far more than that.”