“I cannot. I am engaged to Lord Wrotham. You see, I am already promised.”
“Wrotham?” His lip curled up in derision. “You said yes to Wrotham?”
“Yes. Even if I had not, I wouldn’t marry you. You are the worst sort of debauched rogue!”
“And you think Wrotham isn’t? He was at my party with his whore. What do you think men are like, princess? Knights in shining armor?” He leaned closer, and his hands moved to grip her upper arms. “What’s one rogue versus another? He doesn’t need you. I need you!”
Caroline leaned as far back from him as she could manage. A trickle of fear ran down her spine. She struggled, but he held her too tightly. His body trapped her legs so she couldn’t kick them out. Bile rose in her throat. She would not be a victim again. “Get off me,” she screamed.
Then he was gone. One moment Devonshire suffocated her with his cruel grip and his greater size, and the next, he was flying through the air. He landed with a crash in one of her mother’s rose bushes. Cage stood in the torchlight, larger than life, fury etched into his features, making them hard as granite. They both glanced at a motionless Devonshire, who let out a pitiful moan before falling silent.
Then Cage was at her side. His gaze raked her from head to toe. “Are you hurt? Did that bastard hurt you?”
Caroline sucked in a long shaky breath. Was she all right? She did a quick inventory. “No, no I’m unharmed. He mostly frightened me. You came just at the right moment.”
“Are you sure?” Cage cupped her face with one gentle hand and ran his thumb across her cheek. “Why was he invited tonight?” he bit out.
“He wasn’t. He came out from the hedge behind me. He wanted to convince me to marry him. Said I was his only hope to restore his reputation. He became quite disturbed when I refused and told him I was engaged to you.” She rested a hand on her heart where it still beat a wild rhythm.
A rustle came from the roses and both of them turned to look as Devonshire struggled to rise to his feet. Cage’s gaze narrowed, his hands clenched into fists. “That’s it. We take him to your brother right now. I would just kill him with my bare hands, but I think the duke would be angry I did not give him first crack.”
Cage strode over, reached down, and pulled a thrashing Devonshire off the ground. He gripped the back of his jacket and started toward the house, dragging the man along. Devonshire stumbled and cursed as his feet tried to gain purchase on the gravel path. Caroline rushed to catch up. She hopped neatly over two glasses, which lay broken in the middle of the path.
“Cage, don’t drag him through the ballroom.” She called out as they approached the terrace. “What will people think?”
“I don’t care a wit what people think,” Cage growled.
“You’ll ruin my mother’s party.” She grabbed his arm to pull him to a halt. “Look there, in the left wing, the third set of French doors. That’s my brother’s study. Take him there. I’ll get Andrew.”
Cage nodded stiffly then changed direction. Devonshire sent Caroline a stricken look, as though he was scared to be left alone with Cage. Caroline sniffed; it served him right if Morgan pummeled him some before she and her brother arrived. Shehurried up the stairs to the terrace. Passing by the shocked guests who had witnessed Cage drag Devonshire down the lawn, she hurried into the ballroom in search of her brother.
Chapter 37
Cage shoved Devonshire into one of the high-backed wooden chairs that flanked the Duke’s desk. “Sit and don’t say a word. The duke has some questions for you,” he ordered. His anger burned and crackled like fire, consuming his thoughts. The image of Devonshire with his hands on Caroline, of her frightened face as she struggled against him fueled his rage. Cage paced back and forth across the carpet. Devonshire had to be the author of those filthy letters. He had proven himself to be a disgusting human being.
“How did you get the ice queen to agree to marry you?” Devonshire asked. “Caroline has turned away everyone else. Did you compromise her?”
Cage’s barely-leashed temper snapped. He backhanded the man across his smug face. “Don’t ever speak about her again. Her name should never cross your lips, you filthy bastard.” Blood trickled down from the corner of Devonshire’s mouth. Cage turned away to pace to the window. He took in a deep calming breath.
The door opened with a bang. Cage swung around as Gilchrest strode into the room. “What’s going on?”
“He’s the one.” Cage pointed to Devonshire. “He attacked Caroline in the garden. I got there barely in time to intervene. He had her in his grasp and was trying to convince her to marry him. He has to be the one.”
Gilchrest stalked forward to stand in front of Devonshire. “Devonshire, you son of bitch. We know it was you who sent the letters. Threatening a lady of quality, attacking her, you sir, are no gentleman.”
“What letters?” Devonshire feigned innocence. “I-I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Gilchrest leaned closer. “I’m going to bury you.” Then he turned to Cage. “Well done. I knew you were the right man for the job.”
“What job?” Caroline’s voice rang out from the open doorway. Her beautiful face was pale, and her expression confused and wary.
Cage walked over and gently guided her into the room before shutting the door. She glanced around him at Devonshire, and her eyes widened when she saw the blood on his face. Cage kept her hand in his as he faced her brother. “You need to tell her. She deserves to know what’s happening.”
Gilchrest sighed. “Yes, all right. Caroline, please sit down.”
Cage led her away from Devonshire to a pair of comfortable leather chairs that flanked the fireplace. He didn’t sit; he was too keyed up. Instead, he stood by the fireplace and kept one eye on Devonshire. Gilchrest sat in the opposite chair from his sister.
“You have received several letters of a threatening nature over the last couple of months.”
