A Duke in the Night(64)

“Do you wish to marry this cockroach, Miss Hayward?” the duke asked.

“No.” Her voice was rough.

“I didn’t think so.” He pressed his forearm against the man’s throat. “Should I kill him?”

“That would be messy.”

“But satisfying. And the tide’s going out. It would be at least a day until they found the body, if they ever did.”

“Don’t kill him,” Clara said unsteadily. “He was just leaving.”

“He was? Well, then, I suppose that is a lucky coincidence for you, Stilton.”

Stilton was sweating, though his eyes were mean and hard. “You don’t want me for an enemy,” he spit.

Clara saw something shift in August’s eyes. “You should go now, Miss Hayward,” August said in a voice so chilling it made her shudder.

“No.” Clara took a step toward him.

“Go, Clara.”

“Don’t do it. He’s not worth it. Please.”

She saw August hesitate, every muscle in his body rigid. He suddenly stepped back, and Stilton collapsed in an undignified heap at his feet.

“Leave here. Leave London,” August snarled. “Or I’ll make sure you’re on the next hulk destined for Australia, provided I don’t just kill you first. If you dare show yourself to Miss Hayward, her family, or myself again, Miss Hayward’s words will not be enough to save you.”

Stilton struggled to gain his feet, stumbling like a drunken jester. He yanked on the front of his gaudy coat and fled past August, staggering up the incline and to his waiting carriage.

Clara watched him go, suddenly racked with shivers. There was a maelstrom of emotion swirling through her, and the individual feelings were difficult to sort out—fear, disappointment, anger, shame, regret, relief.

August closed the distance and wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned into his strength, hating how unnerved she felt. “I was so foolish,” she mumbled into the front of his chest. “I never should have come out here alone with him.”

“You are not foolish to trust someone you’ve known for years,” August told her forcefully. “What happened just now is entirely on Stilton, not you. You did nothing to deserve that.”

“I never encouraged him,” she said miserably. “And I certainly never wanted to kiss him.”

“I noticed.” August’s voice rumbled in her ear.

“God.” She squeezed her eyes shut briefly before pulling back. “How did you find me?”

“Anne told me you had gone for a drive. It wasn’t hard to follow the sightings of a peacock in a chartreuse coat.”

Clara made a muffled noise. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you come looking for me?”

August was silent for a long moment. “A brilliant woman once told me that jealousy did not become me.”

“That woman knew nothing.”

August was silent.

“I would never have married him,” Clara said fiercely. “No matter what he did.”

“I don’t think Stilton anticipated that.”

Clara bit her lip. “Would you really have killed him?”

“Yes. If it had been necessary to protect you.” His voice was flat.

“How very barbaric of you,” she said, and the tremor she could still hear in her words was no longer just from her ordeal.

“Did you know that barbarian was a term that the Romans gave to everything and everyone who wasn’t them?” he asked, and Clara knew he was trying to distract her now.

“The Greeks used it first,” she mumbled.

August made a funny noise. “That is not the point. My point here is that in truth the barbarians were courageous, cunning, and ruthless and, in the end, drove the Romans all the way back to where they had started.”

“Are you fishing for compliments, Your Grace?” She felt the pull of a smile.

“Possibly. Probably.”

“Then I rather like your barbarian tendencies,” she said wryly. “All of them.”

“Good. So you won’t mind if I do this.” Without warning, he bent and scooped her up into his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you back to Avondale.”

“What? You can’t— Where— I don’t—”

“Once we are there, if you are so inclined, you will ask me to stay for dinner.”

“I will?”

“Yes. Because I finally have an answer that is good enough for the question you once asked me.”

“Oh.” She laid her head against his shoulder. “I’m having dinner tonight with the students. Lady Tabitha and Lady Theodosia as well.”

“Splendid. I’ll join you.”

He heard her laugh softly. “You might be the only male in attendance.”

“Splendider.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It can be for a man who took to slaying dragons on behalf of his fair lady,” he said lightly.

“You insult the dragon family, for Stilton is not so noble.”

“You’re right. I always fancied dragons to be green or blue and not chartreuse.”