Page 9 of Her Ruse with the Rakish Duke

Victor craved a drink. He sat back and intertwined his fingers, “You did not answer my question. You have less than three minutes left.”

“I need money!” She screamed. “I need to be cared for. It is my right!”

“How much?” Victor asked, softening his voice. He gestured at the chair. She stopped prancing about the room and did as he silently asked.

“Enough to pay for my relocation to the country and provide for the rest of my life.”

“This part is very important, Miss Haversham. You will never return here. You will never have another contact with me or my mother.”

“That will depend on the amount you are willing to pay, Your Grace.”

“No, you are not listening. This transaction stays between us. If word gets out, I will ensure that you repay every dime and that you are thrown to the streets. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, wait here.”

About ten minutes later, Victor returned with the money. He handed it into her shaky hands and a smile bloomed on that innocent face. She started to speak again and Victor stopped her.

“You should go.”

Miss Haversham held the bag to her chest and hurried from the room. He leaned back and rubbed the heel of his palm on his forehead. That was the last of the three. All of them compensated for the sins of his father. The money meant nothing to Victor, nor would it ever be enough for the damages.

One of those women had lost her son to the stumping feet of his father. That death was covered up because he was the duke and it was just the woman’s word. It was all the man’s fault and no matter what, Victor refused to apportion any blame to anyone but his father.

“Your Grace, the horses are ready,” Dan announced.

“Get me a drink first.”

“She has gone. How did you do it, Your Grace?”

“I would really like that drink, Dan.”

“All right, Your Grace. The clothes for the wedding have arrived. Would you like to test them first before riding?”

The air in Victor’s lungs was stuffed, tightening his chest. His gaze kept returning to that favorite chair of his father’s. Hate for himself, the man, and his life was overwhelming. He needed that ride. He could not think about anything else. Especially not a wedding where he was guaranteed to see Daphne.

He could not see her.

He could not stand that his chest squeezed tighter at the thought that he could never have her.

“You know what? I think I will be going for that ride now.”

ChapterThree

“Take it or I swear to God, you will wear it over your face for the rest of our stay!” Lady Wallace bellowed. She threw some sheer white underwear at Daphne’s head.

“I have enough packed, Mama. Why in the world would I need this atrocity?”

“Because one way or another, you are coming home with a husband.”

“I should just wear this without a dress then, it should make it much easier.”

“That—”

Melanie ran into Daphne’s room, her hair a complete catastrophe, tears streaming down her face, and loud cries from her lips.

“Aunt, I cannot seem to find the pair of shoes you bought me last week!”