Page 67 of The Duke's Only Desire

She stared at him, abhorred. “I can’t do that.”

“Ah, yes,” he mumbled. “The twenty thousand pounds your grandmother so stupidly let Malvern negotiate into the marriage contract. I’ll pay it, if necessary, to have you gone and Shay without a legitimate heir of the body.”

“No—Iwon’tdo that,” she corrected vehemently, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I will never leave my husband.”

Malcolm laughed. “Because you love him?” Then his eyes turned fiery black and as icy as the wintry day around them. “That’s exactly why youwillleave him, my dear, because you love him too much to let him suffer all the things I plan on unleashing upon his head if you don’t.”

She pressed her fist against her chest, as if she could physically tamp down the racing pulse that came so fiercely that her breastbone ached and the rising fury that burned in her belly. “What do you mean?”

“Stupid gel,” he muttered in disgust. He took a step toward her. “Let me be clear, then.”

Sophie instinctively backed away, putting the wheelbarrow between them. Shay had insisted Malcolm would never physically harm her, and yet she sensed a desperation in him that lodged a lead ball of fear in her throat. Her eyes darted to the spade resting against the wheelbarrow. If she had to, could she use it against him?

“If you stay in your marriage and get with child, I’ll do far more than simply spread rumors that Shay has been cuckolded and the child not his—rumors easily believed, given the monster he’s become. I’ll go to the authorities. I’ll file charges against him for killing his brother John, and this time, I’ll succeed.”

“No, you won’t.” She blinked hard to keep back the stinging tears of rage gathering in her eyes. “You tried that before, and no one believed you. They won’t believe you now, either.”

“Ah, but now I have new evidence. The Committee on Privileges and the Crown will believe me when I tell them that he murdered John not only to steal the dukedom…but also his fiancée. Your marriage proves his guilt.”

“That’s not true,” Sophie rasped out in a voice too shocked to be more than a loud whisper.Breathe!she urged herself, to concentrate on not fainting to the ground even as the world plunged wildly around her at the accusations he was spinning. “John’s death was an accident. Shay ran back into the barn to save him.”

“Says who? Seamus? The man who benefited from his brother’s death?” He raked a lecherous gaze over her. “And continues to benefit.”

“That’s a lie!”

“It doesn’t matter as long as the Committee believes it. And I’ll make certain they do.” A victorious smile stretched across his face. “No one will believe his protests—or yours. I’ll have him tried for murder, not manslaughter either, so he cannot claim privilege and go free. He’ll hang for it. At the very least be transported.” His voice was little more than a hiss. “The dukedom will be stripped from him for certain this time. Whatever children you might be foolish enough to have before then will be prevented from inheriting even a single ha’penny due to corruption of the blood, and you will be left ruined and disgraced, unable to show your face in public. So will your father. And all of you will be cut from society.”

His face darkened with a hatred so intense that a shudder corkscrewed through her.

“Is that what you want for your husband? For you and your children?” He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret. As ifhelpingher. “So best to leave your marriage now.”

She put her hand on the wheelbarrow to steady herself, to keep her knees from collapsing beneath her. To keep from gouging out his eyes! “You horrible man…you devil…you—”

“Parent,” he corrected. “And I would do anything for my sons.”

“Anything?” she whispered. “Even something as evil as this?”

“Do not doubt my resolve.” He looked past her toward the house and squinted against the slanting afternoon sun that did nothing to ease the chill freezing her bones. “Your husband will be gone for at least another four days. You should use that time to pack and leave before he returns. I’m certain you’ll be able to think of a good excuse…or none at all. I don’t care which as long as you’re away by the time he returns. Before he has the chance to breed you.”

She was going to be sick. Gulping in deep breaths, she pressed her hand against her belly to stop the roiling even as the bile rose in her throat.

“Leave your husband, my dear.” Despite the endearment, his voice held no affection, only hatred. “Or I’ll destroy you both.”

Dear God, he was evil. She’d never glimpsed such pure malevolence and wickedness before in her life.

“Your Grace!” Pearson’s shout cut through the wintry afternoon as he charged across the garden toward them like a bull. His shoulders were hunched, his fists clenched and swinging at his sides, and even from so far away Sophie could see the heat of his expression, all of it aimed at Malcolm.

Oh, thank God.Sophie’s shoulders slumped as she breathed in deeply with relief. The panic lifted with every step the former soldier took toward her, if not her fear.

“Your Grace.” Pearson narrowed his steely eyes on Malcolm as he came to a stop between them, positioning himself in such a way that his large body formed a shield. “You’re needed back at the house.”

“Of course.” She cleared her throat, hoping her immense relief wasn’t as obvious as she feared. She didn’t want Malcolm to think she possessed one whit of worry inside her at his threats, even if he’d sent her world spinning. “I’m finished here for the day.”

“Let me help you.” Pearson’s eyes never left Malcolm as he reached for the spade and gripped it tightly in his hand like a club.

“No need,” she assured him and took the spade from him, afraid he might just use it. “I’m done here. Lord Malcolm was just leaving.” She laid the spade on the wheelbarrow and crossed her arms over her chest, summoning the most abstinent, determined stance she could.“Now.”

“Of course.” Malcolm laughed at both Sophie and Pearson. “Then I’ll leave you with your little guard dog.”