Jack was not going to let herself be crushed by a man like Drexel.

She took a step forward.“You will not ask me to dance again, Lord Drexel. His Grace was kind, standing up for me because he knew that I did not wish to take to the floor with you. I do not like you. I never shall like you, and I will never be yours. Accept it.”

Drexel winced as he straightened. “Of course you protest thus, now that you have had a duke.”

“You do not learn, do you?” James hissed, preparing to strike again.

She tensed, grabbing hold of his arm. “Come, let us go. A man like that cannot be taught anything.”

But James hesitated. He could not leave Drexel entirely like this because he was not sure Drexel would not cause further damage. And so he took a step forward and leveled Drexel with an unyielding stare as he warned, “I want you to understand something. If you bother her, if you say anything to her brother, I will kill you. As you say, I’m a duke. I don’t have to kill you personally. There are multiple men I could pay to have it done. Every corner you turn, every street you cross, every club you enter, you will have to worry about this if you speak out against her.”

Drexel did not react with fear. Oh no. He looked like a man who had been challenged to battle. “Noted, Your Grace. I can see that the lady means a great deal to you.”

He swallowed at those words.

Of course he cared about her. Of course he wanted to protect her. It was nothing more.

He would be a cad if he did nothing.

“Come,” he said to Jack.

And with that, they left Drexel in the shadows.

They headed back out quickly onto the path.

“We must get back soon. We don’t wish people to talk,” he said, cursing himself for a thousand fools.

“Especially after all that,” she breathed.

“You’re shaking,” he observed, wishing he could take her into his arms and comfort her.

“Am I?” she asked, contemplating her hands. “You’re the one who was involved in the fisticuffs.”

He peered at her, hating that young ladies were put into such positions. And then his glance caught on a line at her throat. “I think the shrubbery caught you. Hold still.”

Gently, he readjusted her gown at the shoulders and then he brushed her curls ever so slightly back from her shoulder. “You’ve been cut.”

“Have I?” she murmured, seeming dazed now.

Oh so gently, he touched the mark. What the bloody hell had he done tonight? All he wanted was to help her find a husband. To help her see how marvelous she was.

Instead, he’d put her at risk.

“You must take care of it,” he urged.“Promise me that you will. Witch hazel, it is the best thing.”

She sucked in a soft breath at his touch. “I shall,” she said.

“Jacqueline, Jacqueline,” her mother called from the top of the path, spotting them. “We must go, my dear. I have had a note from the house.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “Mama,” she called, her voice tense.“What is amiss?”

“Your brother is ill. We must go.”

“Edward?”

He felt fear chase through her. Of course it did. With her father’s sudden death, any illness would be frightening.

“The doctor has been summoned. I cannot find Alexander. We must depart immediately.”


Tags: Eva Devon Historical