Page 28 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

Harrowby gave a nervous laugh. "You cannot force me."

Pierce leaned back in his chair, his expression almost bored. "You have been convicted of serious offenses and spent seventeen years in prison.

With your history, it would require remarkably little effort to make certain the authorities take another interest in you."

Harrowby's face paled.

Pierce continued evenly, "I would rather not do it. I am offering you an alternative."

"What alternative?" Harrowby demanded.

"You sign the deed, leave London, and begin an honest life elsewhere." Pierce tapped the document once with his finger. "Consider it a token of my appreciation. I will allow you to walk away with your dignity intact, provided you possess enough of it to sign."

Harrowby scoffed. "That is exile."

"Yes." Pierce's expression did not change. "Your choices are exile or prison. I thought presenting them plainly might save us both time."

Harrowby glared at him. "You believe yourself very powerful, do you not?"

"I am a duke," Pierce replied. "It would be rather inconvenient if I were not."

For several seconds, Harrowby said nothing. Pierce watched the conflict move across his face, amusement replaced by resentment, resentment by calculation.

At last, with a bitter expression, Harrowby dropped into the chair and seized the quill. "You will regret this."

"Possibly," Pierce said. "But I doubt it."

Harrowby dipped the quill into the ink and signed the deed with a hand that shook with fury. Pierce waited until the final stroke was complete before taking the document. He examined the signature carefully. The relief was quiet but profound. One obstacle between Margaret and her freedom had finally disappeared.

Harrowby rose, but he paused before reaching the door. "Do you believe you are better than me because you are a duke?" he asked, turning back.

Pierce looked at him. "No."

Harrowby seemed almost disappointed by the answer.

"You have already decided what Margaret thinks of me," Pierce continued. "So perhaps you would like to share it."

A bitter smile crossed Harrowby's face. "To her, you are merely another villain. She hates men. She will never warm your bed willingly."

Pierce's jaw tightened, though he refused to allow the remark to show its effect. The image of Margaret flashed through his mind, spirited, furious, flushed, standing in the library and insisting that she would flee the moment anyone attempted to take away her freedom. She was nothing like the meek bride Harrowby seemed to imagine.

Abandonment. Her threats are clear.

"I have felt like a villain for quite some time," Pierce said quietly. "You are hardly telling me anything new."

Harrowby gave a humourless laugh. "Then perhaps you deserve each other."

"I suspect," Pierce replied, "that Margaret deserves considerably better than either of us."

Harrowby stared at him, apparently unable to determine whether Pierce was mocking him. Finally, he gave an irritated bow and left the room.

The door closed behind him.

Pierce remained still for several moments, staring at the place where the man had stood. He should have felt triumphant. Instead, he felt only tired. There had been too much darkness surrounding Margaret already, too many men deciding what was best for her without asking what she wanted.

He had no intention of becoming another one.

At least, that was what he told himself as he looked down at the signed deed.