Page 65 of Trapped with the Beastly Duke

She strode away from him, not caring if she made a scene. She would not allow such disrespect.

How dare he?

She strode towards the entrance hall, with only one thing on her mind—she was going to find Alexander and enjoy an evening with him.

She only hoped her outburst had not hurt the careful work she had put into restoring his reputation.

You are the most wonderful man, Alexander Rokesby, and I will make them see it if it is the last thing that I do.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall figure disappearing out of sight. Was it Alexander? But if it was, why was he leaving instead of coming to find her?

Chapter Twenty-Two

What You Deserve

Alexander stood in the entrance hall, doing his best not to lose his temper with the man in front of him.

It is not his fault, he is only doing what he was told, and perhaps he brings me news of my quarry.

The man led him out of the hall and into the night, looking over his shoulder as though he were worried about being overheard. Alexander frowned, wondering why the man seemed so concerned.

“You are trying my patience. Deliver your message, I will not go any further.” Alexander stopped, refusing to move any further from the house. “If you fear being overheard, speak quietly, but for heaven’s sake, be swift.”

“Your Grace.” The man wrung his hands, licking his lips nervously as his eyes flicked from right to left. “I apologize. But I was told I should deliver this message in the utmost confidence.”

“Well, there is no one around, so out with it, man. Do you bring news from the magistrates?” Alexander kept his voice soft, refusing to let either his anger or excitement show.

The man’s eyes widened, and he looked confused. “The magistrates?”

Then he knows nothing about the man I’m hunting. What else could have been so important?

Alexander’s temper flared, and he took a step towards the man. “That you do not know implies that your message is far less important than you suggested. Deliver your missive at once, for I find my patience is wearing rather thin.”

The man swallowed. “The message I was told to deliver was this—you do not deserve her. Do not hope to keep her. A rose must have a garden, not a sty.”

Alexander towered over the man, his hands clenched into fists. “Who. Sent. This. Message?”

The weasel-faced man was retreating, all color draining from his face. “I-I do not know. I was told to deliver the message and make sure to do so where we were not overheard.”

Alexander resisted the urge to howl with rage. “Do you know who I am?”

The man nodded and began to shake.

“Do you truly think it is wise to threaten my wife? To threaten me?” Alexander stood tall, filling the space between them and letting his anger show in every movement.

Even strangers think you do not deserve her.

He shoved the thought away, letting his rage consume him. He wanted to roar, to yell.

I could be dancing with Rose, and instead, I am here, with some stranger, being insulted.

“Get out of my sight. And if you ever think to deliver such a message to me again, I would urge you to consider how muchyou value your life.” Alexander knew he would not kill the man, but he saw no reason to disabuse him of that notion.

He threatened Rose. I will not let that stand.

The man whimpered, then nodded and fled into the darkness. Alexander took a deep, steadying breath, trying to get his anger back under control.

He turned on his heel and strode back into the ballroom, hoping that he might still have a chance to dance with Rose. His anger faded into a mix of excitement and agitation. He remembered the surprise on her face when he asked her to dance.