“What you can do, Princess Ka’rissa, is acknowledge in writing that I am to be your Royal Consort,” he snapped, pushing his way past her, into her rooms.
“Please go back,” Rissa said coldly, “I did not invite you into my apartments and I would like you to leave.”
“Not until I get a written statement from you!” He turned and glared at her, tapping one foot impatiently. “I told you I wanted it in writing by this morning. I must have it to present to the Steward so that I can claim your hand in marriage when you officially accept me tomorrow.”
Rissa reflected that only hours before she had nearly poisoned herself just to get away from this horrid little man. He had kissed her against her will, made her think she was pregnant, and threatened her with ruin. And now he had interrupted her lovely experience with James as well! She frankly couldn’t think of a word bad enough to call him.
“No such statement will be forthcoming,” she told him coldly. “I am not going to marry you, therefore you will not become my Royal Consort.”
His piggy little eyes narrowed to slits.
“Think again, my dear Princess. Do you not remember the kiss we shared last night?”
“You mean the kiss you forced on me!” Rissa exclaimed. “Of course I remember—it changes nothing.”
“It changes everything!” Duke Grabbington insisted. “You, my dear Princess, have been compromised. All I have to do is let one person know how you succumbed to me last night and it will be all over the Court in a trice!” He snapped his fingers, as though to illustrate his point. “Your reputation will be in tatters before a quarter of an hour has passed.”
For a moment, Rissa felt the pit of her stomach grow cold. A lady’s reputation was a fragile thing—so easily besmirched and sullied! But then she thought of a lifetime with the horrid Duke and how awful it would be to let him do the things James had told her about on her wedding night. She had nearly gagged from having his tongue in her mouth—how much worse would it be to have his shaft in her pussy? The very thought made her recoil.
No, she thought, straightening her spine. No, I will not let him bully me into a lifetime of misery and regret!
“Very well, Duke, you may spread rumors if you like,” she said coolly. “But if you do, then I shall spread some of my own.”
“What?” The Duke looked astonished. “Whatever do you think you could say that would harm me?”
“I…I shall say that I saw you abusing one of the maids,” Rissa said.
He smirked.
“Believe me, my dear, that will make no difference to me. That ridiculous Lady TittleTattle has already printed such things about me and yet I am going to be the Royal Consort, nonetheless.”
His arrogance grated on Rissa’s nerves and she sought for something else she could say. Suddenly, she remembered the conversation she’d been having with James about when a man’s shaft was limp or hard and what it meant.
“I shall say that I saw you trying to abuse one of the maids but that you were unable to do so,” she said, thinking how James had said that an “inability to perform” was considered shameful to a man.
“What?” This time, the Duke looked actually angry and discomforted. “What are you saying?” he demanded.
“I shall say that I saw you chasing her down the hallway and that your…your manhood was hanging out of your breeches, flopping around, limp as a noodle,” Rissa went on, making things up as she went along. She could tell by the way the Duke’s face was growing darker and darker that she was on the right track. “I shall say that she was laughing at Your Grace and saying that you could not catch her and that even if you did, you would not be able to…to do anything to her,” she finished triumphantly. “And I shall tell it to as many people as I can,” she added. “So there!”
Duke Grabbington’s face was nearly puce with fury.
“You would not dare to say such things about me, you little minx!” he exclaimed.
“I most certainly would,” Rissa said, lifting her chin. “In fact, I shall ring for my maid and tell her to spread the rumor to all the servants in the palace as soon as you go, if you do not leave me alone at once!”
“You little liar! You wouldn’t dare!” Duke Grabbington snarled.
“I certainly would. In fact, I will!” Rissa reached for the button that, when pushed, rang a bell to call a maid to her room.
The Duke snatched her hand away, his meaty fingers tightening around her wrist.
“Let me go!” Rissa exclaimed, trying to pull away from him. “Unhand me at once, Sir!”
“No.” A nasty look was growing on the Duke’s face and his mustaches twitched menacingly. He began dragging her further into the room, towards the somewhat rumpled bed. “I can see, Princess, that I did not go far enough with you last night,” he snarled at her as Rissa continued to fight him. “I thought a simple kiss would be enough to compromise you. But since you insist on playing the tease, I see I shall have to get you into a much more compromising position in order to convince you to name me your Royal Consort.”