Page 151 of The Dueling Duchess

“I know. But this is what I want. The business will be mine and I will have enough to make the repairs we need and also to purchase the stables rather than continue to rent.” She smiled at Guy in a way that turned his brain to mush. “You will need somewhere to keep your horses.”

Guy suspected he had a stupid, fatuous expression on his face, but he didn’t care.

Elliot handed Cecile the contract. “This is far less than you are legally owed, but that sort of case would drag on for years. Not only that, but you would be forced to give exhaustive testimony to prove your claim. This makes sense in several ways.”

“What makes you think Blanchard will agree to it?” Guy asked Cecile.

“Because it isn’t enough money to break him—not if he made as much money as you say he did—and because he has no choice if he wants to save face. If he shows up tomorrow morning, I will shoot him, and he knows me well enough to believe that. Trust me, Guy; he will agree to my demand.”

“He will,” Elliot said.

Guy heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I hope to God you are both correct.”

Chapter 27

Less than eight hours later, after Cecile’s performance that night—to which she’d authorized her theater manager to sell standing room only tickets—Curtis Blanchard signed off on the contract Cecile presented to him.

Cecile had been tempted to allow matters to go through her solicitor, which was what Elliot and Guy urged her to do, but she decided she needed to look Curtis full in the face one last time.

Guy wasn’t happy about the idea of an in-person meeting, but he did not try to dissuade her.

He did, however, have one rather strange request to make of her.

“What?” Cecile had goggled at him when he told her what he wanted.

“Please just let him come, Cecile.”

“Why in the world would I want Sin to be here for this, Guy?”

“Because Curtis Blanchard is the sort of man who rolls over for authority like a dog for its master. And there is nobody who embodies power so well as the Duke of Staunton. If Blanchard has any tricks up his sleeve, Sin’s presence here will put paid to them.”

And so, at just a few minutes after midnight, Cecile, Guy, Elliot, and the Duke of Staunton were waiting for Curtis in the book room when the maid showed him in.

Objectively, Cecile knew her cousin was a handsome man. But knowing what she did about him, she thought he looked no better than a rodent dressed up in expensive clothing.

His eyes bounced around the room and went round at the sight of the duke. “Er, Y-Your Grace,” he stammered, not even bothering to greet Cecile in her own home.

Sin’s expression—which was already cold—turned positively frosty at the other man’s social faux pas.

Curtis flushed under his scathing stare. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Cecile.”

“That’s Miss Tremblay to you, Blanchard,” Guy said, pushing off from the wall near the fireplace and strolling over to Curtis. While he didn’t exactly tower over the other man, he was far broader and fitter and was oozing so much menace that it lowered the already frigid temperature in the room by a few degrees.

“Y-yes, of course, I meant to say Miss Tremblay.”

“You’ve come to apologize,” Guy said.

Cecile jolted at his words, which had not been part of the plan.

Curtis frowned. “Er, there was no mention of an apolo—”

“I think an apology is merited.” Guy stepped closer to Curtis, his hands fisted at his sides.

“I think that is an excellent idea,” Sin said mildly, his green eyes glinting with malice as he looked down his aristocratic nose at Curtis.

“That makes three of us,” Elliot piped up. “Cecile?”

The urge to throw back her head and laugh in exultation was strong, but she decided to keep that for later.