“You do not want to do that, Samuel,” the Marquess said, moving forward and laying a hand on his son’s shoulder which Langdon immediately threw off. “His Grace is a very fine shot.”
“But I would very much enjoy shooting you,” the Duke said, and Vanessa closed her eyes at the horror of the situation washed over her. The Duke might be better than Langdon, but he was still a beast. He was still the Duke of Thornfield.
“I have a right to demand satisfaction!” Langdon snarled, and Vanessa’s eyes snapped back open.
“Samuel…” his father was looking at him with desperation now. “We must discuss this privately…”
“I do not care what you and Lord Forthwell have done!” Langdon shouted. “Why should I suffer for whatever duplicitous dealings you have carried out? Why should my bride be taken from me because of your ineptitude and greed?”
“She is not your bride,” the Duke snarled, his voice so low and so deadly that it scraped the ground. There was something fiercely protective in his tone—something possessive—and Vanessa couldn’t suppress a shudder. “She has a right to choose whom she wants to wed, and she has chosen me.”
“Do not be upset, my love,” the Marchioness said to her son, the iciness in her voice slicing through the room. “The chit has clearly thrown herself at the Duke in order to secure this match. She has undoubtedly entrapped him. You do not wish to marry a woman likethat.She will be part of thedemimondesoon enough.”
“And you,” the Duke said, turning slowly to face the Marchioness, “should learn to hold your tongue before you make enemies of the Duke and Duchess of Thornfield. Believe me, you will regret such a thing.”
“Are you threatening my mother?” Langdon demanded, and this time, when Vanessa looked at him, he was no longer red-faced and furious. There was something even more terrifying about the way he was looking at the Duke with a cold and deadly hatred that seemed to freeze her blood.
“I am advising her,” the Duke said. “You would do well to take my advice as well.”
Langdon stepped forward. He wasn’t as tall as the Duke, but that did not stop him from stepping right up to him and looking him straight in the eye, as if he were not even remotely intimidated by him.
“Then let me offer some of my own advice,” Langdon murmured. “Lady Vanessa has been promised to me since we were children. I will not let you, or any man, take her from me. She will be mine whether she likes it or not.” Vanessa felt fear prickle up her spine, and instinctively—unconsciously—she shrank toward the Duke, as if for protection. “And for the insult you have done me today,” Langdon continued, “I will have my vengeance. Make no mistake.”
Vanessa felt as if she were going to be sick. This was not the spoiled, selfish, manipulative Langdon she had always known. The man who spoke now seemed older and more powerful. He spoke like someone who planned to keep his word.
The Duke, however, did not seem impressed. He raised an eyebrow, giving Langdon a look that was both pitying and disdainful.
“You may do what you like,” he sneered. “But I have taken down better men than you, and your threats do not scare me. Now, I suggest that you leave before you threaten my future wife again.”
Langdon cast one last, furious glance at Vanessa then beckoned to his mother and father.
“We are going,” he snapped. They did not argue. Both trailed him out of the dining room without a word. Only once Vanessa heard the front door slam behind them did she finally let herself breathe.
She slumped forward into one of the chairs around the table and let her head fall in her hands. She could not believe what she had just been through. She felt as if she had aged five years in one evening.
Her mother, however, did not allow her to rest for long.
“Come, Vanessa,” Lady Forthwell said, taking her by the arm and standing her up. “Come upstairs.”
Vanessa obeyed. She looked one last time at the Duke before her mother ushered her out of the room, but he was not looking at her. Then she was gone from the dining room, and the door swung shut behind her.
“Mama,” she said, turning pleadingly to her mother as she led her up the stairs of the townhouse. “Mama, you must know that Lady Pedington’s accusations are false! I would never, ever dishonor myself to entrap a man. I did not throw myself at the Duke; I barely even knew him before tonight?—”
“Hush, now, daughter,” Lady Forthwell said, glancing around as if to make sure there were no servants nearby to overhear them. “Wait until we are back in your room.”
Vanessa pressed her lips together with great difficulty, but the moment they were back in her bedroom and the door had been closed, she burst back into her defense.
“Please, Mama, say that you believe me!” she begged. “Say that you know I would never do such a thing and risk the family reputation.”
“Oh, Vanessa,” her mother sighed, and to Vanessa’s surprise, she pulled her into a tight hug, “I do not care what it is you did to make the Duke propose. All I care about is that you did it! You are going to be a duchess!” Her mother released her and held her at arm’s length, beaming from ear to ear. Vanessa stared at her in shock.
“But… I did not do anything,” she murmured.
“Yes, I know,” Lady Forthwell said, winking. “And that is what we will tell the rest of theton.”
“No, really, I did not!” Vanessa felt her frustration build. Did her mother really think that she had dishonored herself in order to force the Duke to marry her? She had never felt so insulted.
“Well, it does not matter now,” Lady Forthwell said, shaking her head. She was still smiling. “The important part is that you areofficially betrothed to a duke! In a few short weeks, you will be one of the most powerful women in England.” Her mother laughed then sank into the closest chair, as if she could not quite believe what had just happened. “To think of it! You have gone from a shy wallflower to the Duchess of Thornfield! It is a miracle.”
