“I shall,” Victor said.
“That way, when I tell you exactly what I think of you and your treatment of my stepdaughter, it will be within the privacy of my own walls.”
Victor inclined his head a fraction. “I look forward to it.”
The carriage lantern flickered between them.
Howard turned away, seething. “Get inside, Gwendoline,” he snapped. “We have caused quite enough spectacle for one evening.”
Gwen climbed into the carriage on trembling legs. Her heart beat wildly. She pressed her back to the seat as Howard hauled himself up opposite her, his jaw already darkening where Victor’s fist had landed.
The door closed with a heavy thud. Outside, Victor stood in the drive, a lone, rigid figure against the glow of Greystone House.
Then the carriage lurched forward, and he vanished from view.
The road home stretched dark and uneven beneath the wheels. Inside the carriage, the air was thick, full of anger and the faint tang of spirits on Howard’s breath.
Gwen stared out the window, watching the lanterns recede, trying not to tremble.
For several minutes, Howard said nothing. He breathed heavily as his hand pressed against his jaw. The mark would bruise. It pleased her far more than it should have.
At last, he spoke.
“I never imagined you had it in you,” he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
His tone had changed. Less raw fury. More something that might have been admiration if it did not sound so venomous.
Gwen did not look at him. “Had what in me?”
“Cunning,” he replied. “Apparently, my little stepdaughter is capable of far more than I gave her credit for.”
Her stomach tightened. “I do not know what you mean.”
He laughed, the sound scraping along her nerves. “Ofcourseyou do. Getting a duke to risk his reputation for you. To punch a viscount in the face for you. That is not a small thing.”
She flinched. “I did not ask him to.”
“Perhaps not with words,” Howard relented. “But something about you has him thoroughly entangled. It is the first useful thing you have ever done.”
Her hands curled in her lap. “I am not trying to entangle anyone. I never wanted this.”
“You ruined yourself to avoid marriage,” Howard went on, ignoring her. “Then you sneaked around town with the Duke of Greystone. Now you were found in his study, sprawled over him in a position no man in his right mind can ignore. You have forced his hand most effectively, whether you meant to or not.”
Gwen’s heart thudded. “I did not do it on purpose.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Intention is irrelevant. Outcome is what matters. And this has provided us with a far better outcome than I expected.”
Silence stretched. The carriage hit a rut.
“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
Howard leaned back, a smug smile curving his lips. “You will marry a duke, Gwendoline. That is what I mean.”
Her breath left her in a rush. “No.”
“Yes,” he barked. “I have been negotiating with a baron. A dull, plodding man, but suitable enough. Now that I see how Greystone looks at you, I would be a fool not to aim higher. A duke brings far more advantageous connections. And money. Alotof money.”
“I will not marry him because you wish to profit,” she said sharply. “Victor is not… He does not…”
