“A word, Vauron,” he said, the words soft and threatening.
Vauron’s gaze slid from his face to Thalia’s, and he stumbled over his words. “I-I can’t think what this could be about, Your Gra?—”
“I can,” was all the Duke said while dragging him from the room.
Lord Vauron had to trot to keep up, and the moment the Duke identified a quiet corner of a corridor, he turned and released Lord Vauron.
“I say,” Lord Vauron said, petulantly. “I can’t imagine what?—”
The Duke punched him in the jaw. Thalia gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth as Lord Vauron stumbled, his eyes turning dazed.
“Keep your hands to yourself in the future, or I will break them,” the Duke snarled.
“I did nothing?—”
Thalia gasped at the indignity. “Howdareyou deny it.”
The Duke grabbed Lord Vauron by the collar and hauled him up. “Donotlie to me.”
If possible, Lord Vauron’s face turned an even paler color. “N-no, Your Grace,” he stammered. “I would never?—”
Thalia watched as fury crossed the Duke’s face; she could practically pinpoint the moment that he lost control, drawing back his fist and punching the other man so hard that his head rocked back. He tossed Lord Vauron to the floor.
“My patience is running low. Apologize to the lady.”
Thalia kept silent and waited. Shaking, the old lord turned to her. “I apologize, my lady.”
“For?” Maxwell prompted dangerously.
“For laying my hands on you in an inappropriate way.”
Thalia noted he didn’t specify what he had done, but she didn’t feel the need to press the issue, and neither did the Duke, judging by the way he nudged Lord Vauron with his foot. “Get out of my sight,” he spat.
Lord Vauron scrambled to his feet and fled down the hall.
“You can’t just hit people who offend you,” Thalia said, biting back the silent satisfaction seeing that assault had brought her.“Now he’ll tell everyone what happened, and there willmost certainlybe a scandal!”
Footsteps sounded behind them.
The Duke’s face was tight with concentration as he listened.
Her eyes widened.
“Come,” he whispered, then reached for her, fingers sliding around her waist.
Next, he took hold of her and spun her aside into a small alcove, partially concealed by a curtain. His other hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her confused exclamations.
In the dim light, she stared up at him, her heart pounding, her senses on high alert.
She suddenly felt like a rabbit standing before a wolf—only she was less sure she would mind being devoured.
The voices grew closer. Two ladies returned from the powder room, talking idly.
Thalia held her breath. His palm was warm against her lips, and his thigh pressed between hers. His proximity made her entire body prickle with awareness. Heat filled her as his eyes, black in the dim light, met hers.
Slowly, the footsteps passed, reaching the end of the corridor and fading.
The Duke’s eyes didn’t leave hers as he drew his hand away from her mouth. They were so, so close. Thalia could barely breathe. All she could feel was the hard press of his leg against hers, his stomach against hers, and the rigidity of his chest.
