Page 24 of The Duke of Swords (The Highwaymen #4)

“He came here with Fateux. He chased you into the woods and brought you back, and you were in pain when he hauled you here. He hurt you.”

“Oh, no, I fell and twisted my ankle,” she said, shaking her head.

“He…” She looked up at Rutchester, who yanked his hand out of hers.

She wanted to say that Rutchester had not hurt her.

That was not strictly true, though, was it?

“All men do is hurt women,” she finally settled on.

“But he actually wants me, and none of the rest of you do. The rest of you just want to use me or take advantage of me, and he…” She looked up at him again.

“He can’t control himself when it comes to me,” she said, and she was smiling again.

Rutchester blushed. “Oh, damnation, don’t say that to your father.”

“Yes, I hardly think that’s a rousing endorsement,” muttered her father.

“He killed Fateux,” she said.

“Did he.” Her father looked Rutchester over. “And why was that? To rescue her or to have her for yourself?”

“He wishes to marry me,” she protested.

“He only said that because I received him badly,” said her father.

“No, I shan’t give over my little girl to a rough and crude sort of man like you, Rutchester.

Fateux was awful, but he had reasons for doing things.

You, however, everyone knows that you are a rabid dog.

Fateux held your leash, and you were, perhaps, muzzled, but no father would allow a man like to you to have his daughter. ”

Rae gasped. “No father should have allowed a man like Fateux to have me. This is far too little, far too late, and don’t think that it is what I wish from you.”

“I behaved badly, it is true, but I am doing my best to behave better now. Simply because I let you be taken before does not mean I will assent to it again,” growled her father.

She folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes. “He has already had me, you know.”

“Miss Smith, please,” said Rutchester, pained.

Her father’s face twisted. “What did Fateux do to you, my darling? Did he just go around giving you to anyone and everyone?”

“He tried,” said Rutchester tightly, “and that is why I killed him.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it was so very noble,” said her father.

“And if you were so interested in protecting her, why did she come back here to me, looking hollowed out and dead inside, and if you were so interested in marrying her, why didn’t you?

Instead, she came here, all alone, and when you have a whim to want her again, you seek her out?

No. No, never, you shall not ever lay a finger on her again.

In fact, you dishonored my daughter, and I think I’m well within my rights to demand satisfaction from you. ”

Rae’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Name your second,” said her father. “Name your weapon.”

Rae ran for her father. “You are not dueling him, Papa.” She took him by the shoulders, but he shook her off. She turned to look at Rutchester. “He is not dueling you.”

“No,” said Rutchester quietly. “I would not harm your father, Miss Smith.”

“So sure it would go your way?” said her father. “Coward.”

“Dueling,” said Rutchester blandly, “is against the law.”

“Oh, and you care so much about legalities,” said her father. He shrugged. “Fine. If you won’t meet me like a man on the field, that is fine. Just go. Forget about my Rae, forget all about her, and go away.”

Rae’s heart climbed into her throat, and she gazed at Rutchester, certain that he would do exactly that.

Rutchester swallowed. He ran his hand through his hair, looking nervous.

He sought out her eyes and locked into her gaze for a moment, searching her face for something, and then he turned back to her father.

“It’s up to her, I think. I shan’t force her into it if she doesn’t want it, of course, but I shan’t simply abandon her either, not again.

” He turned back to her. “Apologies if you felt I did. I thought to protect you from… from myself, I suppose. I still am not certain that I—” He shook his head, breaking off speaking.

He bowed his head, looking at the floor.

Her father seethed.

Rutchester studied his shoes.

Rae’s heart was still pounding. She turned back to her father. “Papa, only last night, you were going on about getting rid of me so that you can remarry and have an heir again, and now you put up this charade as if you ever cared about me, when it is quite obvious you do not and never have—”

“Oh, Rae!” Her father turned wounded eyes on her.

“That is not what I meant, and you know it. I tried to speak to you after you left the table last night, but you would not open your door to me. I won’t have this conversation in front of him, but understand that I want you to be happy, that is all.

You cannot say that this man would make you happy. ”

Her mouth was dry. Happy? Perhaps not, no. Whatever it was with him, it was always a sort of intensity of sensations, some pleasant, some nearly excruciating, but…

“How old are you, Miss Smith?” came Rutchester’s voice, low and lilting.

“You don’t even know,” muttered her father.

“Two and twenty,” she said.

“So, you are past the age of majority, then. Your father’s permission is not needed,” said Rutchester.

“Try and have the banns read, and I shall be there, decrying the fact that you have destroyed her honor and that a man who has criminally forced a girl into his bed should not have any right to her,” said her father.

Rutchester cleared his throat. “We can go to Scotland.”

She blinked at him. “You would do that? You would elope with me? You would not simply give up?”

“I am a gentleman, Miss Smith. A gentleman does not back out of an engagement once he has given his word,” said Rutchester.

“You pay no mind to such things,” said her father. “Rae, once I was present when Fateux was angry with some man for not paying his debts, and I watched Rutchester cut off the man’s thumb and three of his fingers in succession and then stuff them into the man’s mouth to stop his shrieking.”

Rae hunched up her shoulders, that image splashing itself across her mind’s eye in a rush of red. It reminded her of the blood on her thighs after the first time Rutchester had brought her to orgasm. She made a little sound in the back of her throat.

Rutchester let out an audible sigh. “Miss Smith?”

She jerked her head over to look at him again.

“You are quite free to change your mind, of course. Nothing is holding you to any agreement to be my wife,” said Rutchester. “But if you want me, I am yours.”

She made another noise and tears came to her eyes. “Yes.” The word just bubbled out of her, unbidden.

“No,” said her father. He pointed at her. “You are—for some reason—not in your right mind.” He rounded on Rutchester. “And you are not welcome under my roof. Get. Out.”