“You will go there. Spend your days there. I’ll even make sure all the staff are women to make sure you are never unfaithful to me again.”
“How many women were there in that house of yours? Filled with your children!” Her accusation made him lift his hand another time.
“Do not make me hurt you, Diana.”
Her breath hitched as tears began to fall down her cheeks.
Owen sat forward, doing his best to stop the bleeding from his nose as he watched the two of them together. Had he had any idea of a future, some way to support them both, he would have run forward and taken Diana from the duke, fleeing the house and riding away with her. Yet he couldn’t, could he? Not when she was legally bound to another man.
“You once made a vow to protect me,” Diana whispered.
“Well, it seems neither of us has kept to our vows, have we?” the duke asked, scoffing at her. “This is over.” He was about to reach for her wrist when she jerked backwards as an insistent tap rapped against the door.
The three of them froze, looking towards each other.
“Do you expect me to answer your door now?” Owen said tartly, having no wish to play the role of butler to such a man anymore. The duke cursed at him and walked forward, heading for the door. The moment he stepped away, Diana ran to Owen’s side, dropping down on her knees in front of him and clutching his face between her hands.
“Look what he has done to you,” she said, unable to stop her tears.
“And to you.” He gestured to the bruise on her chin. She helped him with the handkerchief, trying to stop the bleeding. He could already feel it beginning to slow.
“You need a physician,” she whispered.
“I’m not going to get one, am I?”
The door opened before they could say anymore.
“Yes? What do you want – ah.” The duke broke off as the door burst open wider, and a gentleman walked in. Owen lifted his eyes from Diana to see Lord Haroldson had returned.
The lord came to a sharp stop in the middle of the floor, looking between the strange sight the three of them made.
“What is going on?” he cried, pointing at the bleeding Owen.
“That is my business,” the duke answered before either Owen or Diana could. Lord Haroldson looked distinctly uncomfortable, adjusting the cravat around his neck before turning back to look at the duke.
“You have not paid me, Your Grace.”
“I said I would deliver your money soon. Now, I have other matters to see to.” The duke returned to the door, opening it again and gesturing out into the darkness of the night.
“Absurd,” Lord Haroldson muttered. “What kind of a business mind do you have?” The duke did not take kindly to these words, stepping away from the open door with his hands balled into fists. “You agree to pay a man; you pay him. You honour the handshake you made. You have deceived me, Your Grace. For three months now, I have waited for payment of Brokerwood, and you have refused to give it.”
“Brokerwood?” Owen said, lifting his head high. His voice sounded slightly strange to his own ears, from the nose that was now blocked with blood. At the sound, Diana clung more to his shoulders.
“Diana, come away from him at once.” The duke’s order she refused to obey, just as she refused to answer him. She stayed exactly where she was, gazing at Owen with such fear that had they been alone, he would have taken her in his arms to comfort her.
“You said Brokerwood,” Owen began again. “What exactly was the duke paying you for?”
“He was –”
“No more, Lord Haroldson, no more.” The duke’s warning clearly had the opposite effect he wished for, though, as Lord Haroldson chuckled and folded his arms.
“It seems I have something over you, at last, Your Grace. Pay me the money you owe me now, or I will speak of our business.”
“To whom?” he asked.
“To them. To anyone. Perhaps even to a magistrate.” Lord Haroldson’s words made the duke flinch.
Before any more could be said, there was a sound out in the darkness beyond the open front door.
