A Duke in the Night(63)

“Because I don’t wish to marry you.”

“It’s not like you’re going to get a better offer,” he said, and there was an edge to his words now. “Especially at your age.”

“Mr. Stilton, I can assure you that even as a younger woman, I—”

“No one wanted you when you were younger,” Stilton told her. “Even your family’s wealth wasn’t enough to buy you a husband then. Do you honestly think anything’s changed?” He drew their hands up to his chest. His palms were cold and sweaty, and Clara resisted the urge to yank her hands from him in revulsion.

“Again, Mr. Stilton, I do not wish to—”

“No one else wants you,” Stilton continued. “But I am prepared to make you my wife.”

Clara felt a familiar anger rise, tempered with disgust. “I am not prepared to have you as my husband.”

“Is it because I’m not a duke?” he hissed. “You think you’re too good for me?”

“That’s not it at all.” She tried to extricate her hands, but he tightened his grip.

“You won’t do better than me,” he told her coldly. “With your wealth added to mine, we could live in grand style.”

Clara tried pulling away again, but Stilton held fast, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hands painfully. “Mr. Stilton,” she said through clenched teeth, “you must understand that I have no desire to marry anyone. Yourself included.”

“You know nothing of desire,” he said, yanking her closer. “But you will soon.”

His strength caught Clara off guard, and she stumbled into him. Stilton let go of her only to dig the fingers of one hand into her hair and use the other to grasp her underneath her chin, pressing it against her throat. He made a sound of satisfaction and dragged her mouth to his. His kiss was wet and slimy, and Clara struggled to wrench herself away, but he only twisted her hair more painfully in his fist.

“Stop,” Clara snapped, letting her fury overwhelm the very real fear that was starting to thrum through her. If she screamed, there would be no one to hear her. There had been no one in sight when they had walked down to the cliffs’ edge. She pushed on his chest with her hands, managing to shove herself back a few inches, even though his fingers still held fast in her hair and against her throat. “This isn’t what I want. This isn’t what you want,” she grated.

She’d never seen this coming. Looking back, she wondered if she’d missed the signs. Perhaps she simply hadn’t been paying enough attention. Today, or at any point in the last two years that she’d counted him an acquaintance. And now she was paying for that lack of vigilance.

“I know exactly what I want,” Stilton breathed. His hand slid from her throat to her breasts, and he shoved his fingers into the top of her bodice. She heard and felt some of the stitching give way.

His breath was hot on her face. “I want more. And you can give me that.”

Clara twisted her head vainly.

“You’ve teased me for long enough,” Stilton said, and his voice had a coldness that Clara had never heard before. “Years I’ve catered to you and your oddities. I’m done waiting. You will marry me. I’ll make sure of it.”

“She can’t marry a corpse.” It came from behind Stilton.

Stilton’s head jerked up, and his hands loosened in Clara’s hair enough for her to jerk herself away. She staggered back a few steps, out of his reach, her breath coming in harsh gasps.

The Duke of Holloway was standing just behind Stilton, his hands loose at his sides, his body perfectly still. But it was his expression that sent chills shuddering through her. His eyes were feral, his expression black, and there was a dark, barely leashed promise of violence rolling off his body in palpable waves.

“What are you doing here, Holloway?” Stilton spit.

“Deciding if I should just toss you off the cliff, or if I should kill you before I do it.”

“You wouldn’t.” Stilton was backing away from him now.

“You have no idea what I would and wouldn’t do.”

“Stealing my birthright wasn’t enough for you, was it? You need to steal my woman from me too?” There was utter hatred in those words. “She’s been mine all these years, not yours, Holloway. It’s been me who has put the time and effort into this. I know you think you can take whatever you want whenever you want it, but I came here to make sure you didn’t. To make sure I finally got what is mine.”

August moved faster than Clara would have thought possible. In a single second he had his hands fisted in the front of Stilton’s coat and was lifting and pinning the man against the thick curtain wall of the castle. Stilton’s boots twitched above the grass.

“I didn’t steal your birthright. I bought a business that had been ruined. And Miss Hayward has never been yours,” August growled.

“She damn well is.”

“The lady’s struggles beg to differ,” August said conversationally.

“She is to be my wife!”

“Your wife?” His eyes flickered to Clara, lingering on her neck and the redness that she knew would be visible where the man’s hand had squeezed. His gaze slid back to Stilton. “I didn’t hear her say yes.”

“She will.” Stilton struggled to no avail.