Page 22 of Enchanting the Duke

“Did you intend to ruin her?”he demanded.“Was that the plan all along?Get the little Westfall girl alone and?—”

Nomansland forced himself to meet Abingdon’s gaze, even as the pain in his face blossomed into something ripe and spectacular.“I didn’t intend?—”

Abingdon slammed a hand down on the arm of the chair, cutting him off.

“Don’t lie to me.She is my wife’s sister.I warned you to leave her alone.And you—” He said the word as if it were an epithet.“You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Nomansland wanted to argue.Wanted to explain, to say that what he’d done was not calculated, not even particularly rational, but driven by some terrible, uncontrollable need.But Abingdon would not want to hear it.He would only want to be assured that the scandal could be contained, that the girl would be made respectable again, that Nomansland would do his damned duty.

So Nomansland took a breath, and let the pain settle him.

“I’m sorry.I didn’t intend to compromise her.I…” The words tasted foreign and not a little sour.He groped for the right phrase, found none, and settled on the truth.“I care for her.”

Abingdon snorted.“You don’t care for anyone but yourself.”

Nomansland flinched, though not from pain.“You are wrong.I care for her.Enough to do what’s necessary.Enough to marry her.”

Abingdon’s laugh was so sharp it could have flayed a man.“Have I done something to make you hate me?Is this some sort of revenge, threatening to marry Dinah’s sister?You think I would allow you within ten feet of her again if I had a choice?”

Nomansland pressed a hand to his face, wincing as the swelling began in earnest.“Do you truly think me incapable of being fond of the girl?”

The silence that followed was not companionable.It was a knife fight in a dark alley.

Abingdon finally straightened, stepped back, and looked at Nomansland with a loathing so complete it might have frozen water.

“You will marry her,” he said, each syllable a gunshot.“And you will make her happy, or so help me I will see you broken.I don’t care if it destroys Sutcliffe’s.My family is more important.”

Nomansland met his gaze.“Done.”He raised his glass in mock salute.

Abingdon turned on his heel and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Nomansland sat in the silence, the brandy burning in his throat, the pain in his face blooming like a peony.

He should have felt victorious.Instead, he only felt hollowed out, as if the punch had reached right through to the center of him and found nothing worth the trouble.

He closed his eyes, letting the world slip away, and wondered what on earth he would say to Chrissy.

The clock ticked on, indifferent and inexorable.

Somewhere in the house, a door banged.Somewhere in the city, rumors spread like wildfire.

And in the study, Nomansland poured another drink, the first of many.

* * *

The clock had just finished tollingthree when Abingdon returned.He didn’t knock this time, but entered with the sullen inevitability of a debt collector.His face was a study in exhaustion, lines carved deep by anger and a night spent wrestling his better nature.He closed the door quietly behind him—a courtesy, perhaps, or a sign that whatever happened next would not need witnesses.

Nomansland stood by the window, the glass of brandy untouched in his hand.He could see his reflection in the glass, the swollen eye, the split lip, the bruises already blooming at the edge of his jaw.He looked like a man who had lost a fight, which was only fitting.

Abingdon said nothing for a long time.He paced the length of the study, five steps to the bookshelves, five steps back, each circuit winding him tighter.Nomansland waited, letting the silence do what words could not.

Finally, Abingdon stopped, bracing himself against the edge of the desk.

“What the hell were you thinking?”he demanded, voice ragged from shouting or drinking or both.

Nomansland stared at the window, not trusting himself to answer.

Abingdon pounced, crossing the room in two strides.“Was it a joke to you?A game?You knew what would happen if you were seen—if she was seen—with you.”