“I said, you will have him whipped within an inch of his life or I will come out and do it myself.” The duke stood toe to toe with the Grange’s stablemaster, a coiled whip in one hand. “I promise you, if it comes to that, you will find yourself next in line. Is that clear?”
“Aye, yer grace,” the stablemaster stammered.
“See to it.”
“Hold that command!”
Chapter 24
How is one to plan for a happy future when all they can think of is the past?
~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, June 1893
The words snapped with the force of an even mightier lash. Eyes like an early morning frost shifted to him, raked down his length with enough frigid disdain to douse the fires of hell. It was a look that had probably sent many a man cowering.
Connor was in no mood to oblige him. His righteous anger on Piper’s behalf was too great. Imagining the hand that held that whip touching her, hurting her, made his blood boil. Although it wasn’t in his best interest to initiate a fight with her mere steps away, he welcomed the tiniest bit of provocation to unleash his wrath upon the man.
“Hold?” The duke’s icy demeanor extended to his voice. “Who are you to command me?”
“A person wi’ far more authority over these people than ye.” Using his height advantage, Connor stepped close to force the duke—accustomed to subjecting everyone—to look up at him. “Hand over that whip.”
“Again you dare to make demands of me?”
“Aye, I dare. Gi’ it to me.”
With a lifetime of entitlement and self-importance to stand on, Rutledge didn’t blink. Didn’t give an inch. Not an ounce of emotion flickered in his eyes. Everything about him, from his pale blond hair to his cool gray suit, exuded a chilling reserve. Connor longed to put a dent in it.
“I’ll have you know I’m the du—”
“I ken who ye are, Rutledge,” he cut in, reaching out to yank the whip from the man’s grasp. “It disnae gi’ ye the right to whip one of Aylesbury’s men.”
The duke’s empty hand curled into a fist. Clearly, he wasn’t accustomed to opposition and guff. “He refused my direct ord—”
“He refused ye onmydirect orders,” he interjected, because, despite the duke’s stoicism, Connor sensed it maddened him to suffer such continued audacity from anyone. “The horse in question was mine, no’ yers. Ye overstep yer position. Ye have nae power over the people here.”
There was a fight brewing, one with an unpredictable adversary. It would be a lie to think Rutledge didn’t have the power to unnerve him. His frigid demeanor combined with a loathsome reputation would make any sane man bear misgivings about antagonizing him. And yet Connor was not only antagonizing but baiting the duke.
Enough lethal rage simmered in him to vanquish any reservations he should have entertained. Additionally, it had the power to shed him of his common sense. With an inward laugh, he gave his full attention back to the duke and doubled down on his bravado.
“Yer title provides ye nae right to demand another person’s property nor any degree of power over these people. They are the marquis’s, no’ yer own.”
Rutledge’s posture grew more erect, shoulders squared. Beyond that, not so much as a scowl or twitch marred his aristocratic hauteur. “I’ll not have some low—”
“My name is Connor MacKintosh.” Coiling the whip, he slapped it against his thigh, wishing all the while he could flog the man before him. “I’m brother of the Marchioness of Aylesbury and of the Earl of Glenrothes. I’m in charge here in Aylesbury’s absence, no’ ye.”
A tiny tick jerked at the duke’s upper lip. “In charge? They’re as insolent a lot as—”
“Yet they are mine to command. No’ yers,” Connor berated flatly, taking another step forward.
“Let us all attempt some degree of civility, shall we?”
The plea came from Celeste, tempered with a surprising degree of timidity. She stood off to the side of the room with none of the haughtiness she’d conveyed that morning. Wringing her hands, eyes downcast, she gave the appearance of being cowed by the duke.
Rather than the woman who colluded with him.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Lady Sedmouth what was civilized about selling her daughter off to the likes of Rutledge. Moreover, he was curious what drove her to continue to participate in this madness. He refrained from asking, refusing to betray Piper’s presence. As far as they were aware, he knew nothing about her or the dastardly deeds they’d heaped upon her.
“I’ll no’ have an uninvited guest…nay, intruder to Dinton Grange, trod upon my authority. I’ll ask ye kindly and once to remove yerself immediately. From the house and this property.”
