Page 5 of The Duke Who Claimed Her

“Father!” she cried, taking a step back.

Lord Witherington was a most repellent creature. Tall and lithe like a blade, he was well into his fifties, with a sharp face and a long nose and a pointed chin that made him look like a bird of prey. It did not help that his hairline had receded halfway up his scalp; the baldness of his spotted head added to the bird-like imagery perfectly.

But his eyes were small and cruel. His lips were thin. And where he was, anger was sure to follow.

“Good,” he spat when he saw her. “I worried that you might have fled. Perhaps you should have, for it is not as if you could embarrass me more than you…” He stopped short, only just then noticing the handsome stranger. “Who are you?”

The handsome stranger did not hesitate in the face of her father’s fury. Instead, he appeared to stand taller, his feet slightly apart, his stance like a bulwark bracing for an oncoming tidal wave.

Always, since she was a girl, Arabella had felt weak and helpless around her father. She had no agency, no power, and was completely unable to stand up to him. Yet, for some reason, seeing the stranger stand before her father, stepping slightly to block her from his path, made her feel… well, not quite as helpless.

In fact, she might have even said that she felt safe, as absurd as that was.

“Who I am is not important,” the stranger snarled. “I would ask that you take account of yourself, and how you think to speak to a lady. Especially in my presence.”

Her father reared back, momentarily speechless. But then, he regained his composure, and his thin lips curled. “How I speak with my own daughter is nobody’s business. In fact, I think it is best that you leave… whoever you are.”

“I think that I will stay.”

Was it so strange that Arabella felt a dull flicker of excitement at seeing someone stand up to her father? Hope, also. Such a thing was unheard of in her life, and to think that this man, whom she did not know, would do such a thing?

Who is he? Why does he care?

As for her father? Arabella often wondered if it was possible to hate someone more than she did him. He was controlling. He was cruel. He was the type who did as he pleased, often ruining everything as a result, only to blame everyone else because he could not fathom a world where his word was not law.

Today, what had just occurred was a perfect example of this.

It was supposed to be Arabella’s wedding day. She did not love the man whom she was set to wed, but her father had arranged it, and Arabella had no choice but to comply. However, it was just as the ceremony was set to begin that her groom learned the truth of the arrangement, one that her father had been desperate to keep hidden until after the vows were exchanged… and one that he knew would infuriate her betrothed.

Arabella’s father was broke; a lifetime spent gambling and drinking had such an effect. Therefore, the dowry promised to her betrothed was a thing of myth, and when he learned that he had been tricked and lied to, he promptly denounced her and her father and stormed from the abbey in a state of fury.

The guests soon followed. Then her father chased after them, begging them to hold their tongues because his reputation was all that he cared about. Not her! Not that his daughter was left mortified! Worse still, as Arabella collapsed into a heap, tears falling from her face, she knew that her father would find a way to blame her for the day’s calamity. As always, it was everyone’s fault but his.

Indeed, the expression on her father’s face as he looked at the stranger, and then when he glared a warning back at her, was proof that Arabella was right.

“I do not know who you are,” her father spoke darkly to the stranger. “Perhaps you have wandered here by mistake, no idea what it is you have found yourself in the middle of. For that reason alone, I will give you one more chance to leave. Now!”

“Father, please…” Arabella’s voice was weak.

“What I have walked into?” The stranger looked from Arabella to her father; anger for him, pity for her. “As I see it, there is a daughter in need, and a father who ought to watch his tongue before he says something that might see it removed.”

Her father balked at the threat, only to harden his expression. “That does it, I warned you…” He started toward the stranger.

“Father, no!”

“Lay one hand on me and you will wish you had not,” the stranger bellowed suddenly. He did not rear back. He did not brace. He was perfectly calm, even as his call came out like a drum. “These are my cousin’s lands, and as I do not know you, I can only assume that you are trespassing.”

Arabella’s father stopped suddenly. “Your cousin… The Duchess Marlborough?”

“The very same.”

Arabella knew the name, of course, as her father had requested the use of this abbey for the ceremony, so her name had been mentioned in passing. However, she knew little beyond that. Her father, on the other hand, seemed to understand another meaning in the stranger’s declaration, as his face paled and his eyes widened with what could only be described as a fearful realization.

And once again, Arabella took pleasure in seeing her father so distressed.

“Your Grace!” her father cried. “I had no idea!”

Arabella gasped. A closer look at the stranger now… no, the Duke! He must have been the Duke of Glastonbury. She knew little of him, save for the odd rumors that she had heard. A rake, a gambler, the worst of men! Also, as she had been told countless times, he was as handsome as the days were long. That, she found hard to disagree with.