His jaw ticked. “How, precisely, do you hope to accomplish that?”
“By demanding your signed confession,” she said steadily.
By God, the termagant had pushed him too far. He stalked toward her. Kent blocked his path, but she held her brother back.
“Let his grace say what he has to say to my face,” she said.
“You want the truth, Miss Kent?” Alaric said with lethal softness. “Here it is for the last bloody time. I’ve never hurt Clara. I most definitely did not kill her. But I am going to find out who did and your interference will only get in my way.”
“Isawyou. You tied Lady Osgood up. You wereassaultingher, and she begged you to stop!”
Damn her and her accusations. To make matters worse, he couldn’t deny them without further besmirching Clara’s reputation. Bad enough that she’d been found dead with him, a man not her husband; was he now to tell the world that sheenjoyedbeing bound and, aye, spanked on occasion?
His chest tightened. Nay, he would protect her honor.
The way he ought to have protected her life.
“Is that true, Alaric?” Will bit out.
Devil take it. Why had he been under siege his whole life? Why was he now being attacked in his own home by his holier-than-thou brother, a righteous virgin, and some damned investigator? He was a duke, for Christ’s sake, a bloody peer of the realm. He didn’t have to answer to them—or to anyone.
“Miss Kent, as I said to you that night: you have no idea what you’re talking about. Lady Osgood told you nothing happened. You will leave it at that,” he decreed with glacial finality.
“Donottell me what to do. I know what I saw, and if you won’t admit to it, I’ll tell the magistrates myself!”
His temper surged. “Test me, pet—and I promise you won’t like the results.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not anyone’spet.”
“Aye, and there’s your problem.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you need a man to keep a rein on you. To keep you occupied with your own damned life so you won’t have the energy or time to meddle with mine,” he said succinctly.
“Howdareyou.”
Flags of pink stood out on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed rebelliously at him, her bosom rising and falling in swift surges beneath yellow silk. They were standing nearly toe to toe, neither backing down. Her defiance, her clean, feminine scent maddened him. His fingers flexed. He wanted to shake her for being so stubborn, sowrong. To haul her into his arms and kiss her until she admitted the error of her ways, surrendered to him completely—
“That’s enough, your grace.” Kent’s warning pierced his haze of enraged lust.
Will gripped his arm. “Alaric, stand down.”
He shook Will off, took a step back. Straightening his jacket, he got himself under control. “Get out.” It took every ounce of self-discipline not to snarl the words.
“Emma, we’re leaving,” Kent said sharply.
Her cheeks blazing, she looked as if she might refuse. Then she took the arm Kent held out. If looks were daggers, her departing glare would have left Alaric full of holes.
Alone with his brother, Alaric felt the tension in the room rise even higher, a warring miasma of past and present that clouded his faculties. The bitter fog sucked him into battle even as he struggled to master himself.
“You haven’t changed one bit,” Will said in disgust. “I don’t know why I bother trying.”
“I don’t recall asking for your help.”
“Ma was right. A leopard won’t ever change his spots,” Will shot back.
Words catapulted reflexively. “I suppose your mother died an uppity bitch then.”
