“Damn it!” He crossed the room and tore the blouse she’d picked up out of her hands. “You’re not coming with me. You’ll be safe here—”
“Under guard, yes, I heard.”
Her calmness was maddening.
“Then we’re in agreement?”
“Of course not.”
“DAMN IT!” He grabbed her by the arms and shook. “He wants you. Wants to hurt you to get to me. I won’t waltz you straight to him.”
“You don’t waltz, Your Grace.”
Defiance sparked in her eyes, a flame Percy didn’t doubt was smoking against her carefully built calm. Knowing he’d get nowhere if tempers flared, he said, “Stop this, please.” He wasn’t above begging. He released her and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t protect you and fight him at the same time.”
“And who will protectyou, Percy?”
He scoffed. The woman was impossible. “I don’t need protection.”
“Everyone needs protection from something.”
Knowing what he must do, Percy’s patience snapped.
“What do you know of anything,my lady? You with your privileged and happy family? Cosseted like a true aristocraticprincess.” He couldn’t stop the words, even as they scalded. “How traumatic it must be to lose your favorite silver comb or scuff your new slippers. Alert the papers!” He drew the rage to him, shielded himself from the hurt and memories welling up. “Don’t think I’m one of your precious servants, puppies, whatever weak creature you can rescue from fate’s cruel grip. You know nothing about what it is to be alone. Go spout your nonsense about compassion and understanding to some eager pup who will listen, because all I hear is the incessant barking of a naive bitch. Youwillremain here!”
He turned away from her and the tears that would no doubt be in her eyes. What he’d said was unforgivable and he was the worst monster for voicing such blatant lies, but they were necessary. He’d known since parting ways with the Merry Men in St. Giles that Danny battled her own demons, but whatever trauma haunted her, she’d be all right.
She was too good to walk away. His duchess, the woman who’d risked her neck to climb a tree, who’d scraped her hands and knees to save that devil-spawned cat, she wouldn’t hesitate to put herself in harm’s way for a lost cause like him.
Let her hurt. Let her cry. She was better off without him. She’dsurvive, which meant everything. Marrying her had been the most selfish thing he’d ever done: selfish, cruel, dangerous. Someone as good and delicate as her would be crushed or worse, killed, when she learned she couldn’t save him.
But when she responded, it was not delicacy in her voice.
“Don’t you dare use my upbringing to put a wedge between us!”
Percy whirled around and watched her approach, her gaze blazing, a goddess’s fury made flesh.
“This is aboutyourinsecurities and inability to let someone else in.” She poked him with a finger right over the ache in his chest. “You don’t get to walk away from me, understand?Spouting I couldn’t understand because I was born wealthy and privileged. You’re feeling sorry for yourself.” She advanced, pushing him back, that inner fire searing his skin. “And don’t you use such language at me. Ever. Again. Just because you didn’t mean a word doesn’t reason I will tolerate you, oranyone else, speaking to me as you just did. I am worth more than such abuse and so are you!”
Percy was frozen by her presence and her insight. He could look clear over her head—she was so slight—and yet he could see nothing aside from her face, fierce and beautiful and so full of honesty, it ripped his angry shield in two as if it were nothing but gauze.
She saw through him. She always had. But still she stood beside him, against him, whatever was right and good, even when it meant she risked her own happiness and more.
“Danny.” Her name burned his throat. “There’s no future with me.”
She shook her head, her brown eyes fathomless. “There’s no future without you.”
Her words nearly brought him to his knees. He wasn’t deserving, not of her loyalty or her regard. But he did deserve the lesson.
Danny knew her own mind and made her own decisions. She was a crack shot and an untapped talent for espionage. If he hadn’t seen the red of her blood that day with Lord Pickles, he’d swear she wasn’t human. But she was mortal, flesh and blood and even more glorious because she disregarded her fragile vessel for the sake of her steadfast morals. She was a fucking monster herself, and he’d been stricken with insanity to think he could stand against a warrior queen who’d give no quarter.
He admitted defeat and hung his head. “Apologies, my lady.” When this was all over, if they survived, he’d fall at her feet and pledge his eternal fidelity.
She huffed. “NowI am angry.”
Percy’s head shot up to see her roll her eyes.
“You say you’re sorry when you should be kissing me.” She threw her hands in the air. “Men!”
