“For you to leave me alone. Marry Dullerton. Give him half a dozen brats.”
“Theo,” she began, intending to tell him she had ended her betrothal to Lord Denton.
But he interrupted her by taking up the spilled cup in his right fist and hurling it to the wall behind her. It shattered into hundreds of pieces, raining to the floor.
“Get out,” he roared.
She flinched, rising from the chair she had been occupying at his side. “I will fetch your brother.”
Evie dipped into a hasty curtsy and then fled the chamber. She was not going to give up on him. But it was apparent that she needed to form a battle plan.
Chapter Fourteen
When Theo wokeagain, it was to find Dom keeping vigil at his bedside. But the scent lingering on the air was undeniable, mixed with the medicinal tang of the sickroom. Warm, ripe fruit.
Evie, curse her beautiful, maddening, wonderful hide.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice nothing more than a rusty croak. As weak as his body felt.
“Who?” Dom asked as if he did not already know the answer.
There had never been another woman who had moved him, who affected him, the way Lady Evangeline Saltisford did. Pity she was a lady, betrothed to another man, and could never be his.
“Lady Evie,” he bit out, his tongue feeling rough, too large. Dry. “Water?”
“Of course.” Dom rose, crossed the room to a table where all manner of vials and tinctures and salves had been laid out, and poured water into a cup.
Devil supposed it was the same place Evie had fetched the water, but he had been a reckless knot of confusion, anger, good intentions, and feverish stupidity then. He had been furious to find her defying him, hating that she was once more where he wanted her, and yet he could not truly have her. Mind dulled by fever and sickness. When she had fled the room, he had fallen asleep once more, claimed by more nightmares.
This time, the flames had not engulfed him. The fevers attacking him seemed to have waned and thank Christ for that. He had been close to death, and he knew it.
Dom returned and held the cup to Devil’s lips.
He drank greedily but slowly.
“Where is she?” he asked again after he had swallowed all he could manage and his voice was less than a reedy rumble at last.
“You were terrible to her,” his brother observed instead of answering Devil’s query. “A vicious arse.”
He had been. Devil did not deny it.
“She will leave me anyway,” he said instead of answering to what he had done. “May as well do it now.”
He hated the notion of causing Evie pain. Everything he did was to make certain she was safe and happy. Even if her happiness was with another man, though the knowledge nearly flayed him alive.
“The lady seems to believe otherwise,” his brother said calmly.
Of course she would. A duke’s daughter knew nothing of hardship. A fortnight alone with him, and she fancied him what she wanted. A mere sennight in the rookeries, and she would change her mind, he had no doubt.
He did not possess an impressive house in the right part of town the way Dom did. He was not a gentleman, with a fancy cove’s airs. He was not charming or smart. He answered adversity with his fists. He was a danger to her. His world was too dark, too grim, and there was no place for her light within it.
“Why have you allowed her to remain here?” Devil demanded, irritated anew.
“She is family,” his brother said simply.
“To you. Not me.” He scowled, the action making his already aching head hurt more. “I don’t want her here.”
“So you said, in quite cruel fashion, I understand.”
