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Calmly, he drew his fist back and punched Lord Caney once more, sending him crashing amongst a couple of chairs.
“Youforcedher,” he corrected the sprawled aristocrat. “You blackmailed her, threatened her and her family with ruination. You left her no choice.” He smiled coldly. “Did you think you could force me to do something, Gregory?”
He saw the helpless anger in the Viscount’s eyes.
“You’re just angry you lost!” Lord Caney sputtered.
“What are you, Caney,five?” he drawled mockingly. “Lady Emily Montgomery is not a toy that you and I are going to fight over like the immature whelp you are. If you cannot understand that, I will be more than happy to make sure you learn the lesson well.”
Daniel cracked his knuckles and stepped forward. The Viscount let out a strangled cry and scrambled backwards until his back came up against the wall.
“What do you want?” His earlier false bravado depleted, his voice sounded almost like a strangled yelp.
Daniel smiled in cold satisfaction. “Quite simple. You are going to call off the engagement.” He paused and added, “Discreetly. If anyone should ask why, you are to say that Lady Emily changed her mind.”
“You’re going to make me sound like a damned jilted suitor!”
“She should have never considered you in the first place,” Daniel told him scathingly. “And if you speak one word—justoneword—against her, I shall make sure to finish what I started here.”
“You areinsane!”
Daniel felt his lips flatten into a thin line in annoyance. A month or so ago, he would not have considered he would be striding into a gambling club like Boodle’s, rearing for a fight. He might have even laughed if he knew he was doing it for Lady Emily Montgomery.
And yet, here he was—threatening Lord Caney to keep his mouth shut, or he would beat him for his words. Since when had he become so uncivilized?
“You think your precious Lady Emily will emerge unscathed from this?” Lord Caney managed to launch one final threat. “Everybody will be talking about how you fought and scared off her fiancé.”
Daniel scoffed. “Not likely. They will think all the more highly of her. After all, it is not everyday that the Duke of Gilleton and the Viscount of Caney have a dispute over a woman.”
Gregory Pratt’s eyes widened with realization. “You bastard! You’ve already thought this through, haven’t you?”
“Unlike you, Caney, I do not do anything without much deliberation.”
Except that night at the garden. And the one at the gazebo.
“And after that?” Lord Caney shot back. “You’re not actually going to marry her, are you?” He threw his head back and laughed. “You are going through all this trouble, and you still won’t marry her because you lack the—”
“Remember what I told you,” Daniel reminded Lord Caney once more before calmly stepping out of the chaos of the gambling club, neatly avoiding the debris of scattered cards and fallen furniture. He did not care to hear anymore of what Gregory had to say.
As Daniel stepped out into the cold night air, he looked up and closed his eyes. Gregory Pratt would never consider going near Emily again, not if he valued having all his body parts intact and working as they should. Daniel had already managed to take care of Emily’s biggest problem. The rest would eventually take care of itself.
“Where to, Your Grace?” his footman asked him as he stepped into his carriage.
Daniel groaned and leaned back into the upholstered seat. “I think I need a drink, Wiggins.”
“Would you prefer to head back home, Your Grace?”
He recalled that he had a bottle of fine brandy in his study. His mother did not like it when he drank, and he knew she was quite upset when he came home foxed last night. He supposed that it reminded her too much of his father—the man Daniel never wanted to become.
“Yes, Wiggins,” he finally decided. “Let’s head back home.”
CHAPTER23
It was well past midnight when Daniel stumbled into his home, eager to get to his study and the bottle of brandy that was waiting for him. He barely made it past the first three steps of the staircase when a familiar voice floated in the darkness.
“I cannot remember the last time you tiptoed into the house at an ungodly hour.”
His mother sounded exasperated and amused at the same time, a rather odd combination. Standing at the bottom of the staircase, Joyce Bolt, the Dowager Duchess of Gilleton regarded him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. She peered closer at him and tilted her head subtly to the side.
