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“It’s Miss Twistleton to you, and a man has the right to kiss his betrothed, Kilbourne, as you well know.”
Betrothed?
Nicolette choked on another gasp and shot her gaze to Mathias’s face, her eyes roving over his features, trying to discern if he jested. And if he wasn’t…
She closed her eyes for an instant, the implications of his declaration cascading over her.
Instead of anger at his high-handedness, a delicious warmth started in her center and spiraled outward in divine waves.
Mathias was protecting her, claiming her as his own.
And she found she didn’t mind at all. It thrilled her on a primal level and riled a fury toward Kilbourne she’d long held suppressed.
“Hmm, Your Grace.” Nicolette angled her chin upward in defiance and went on the offensive. She curved her mouth into an icy smile. “You are ridiculing me? Rather the pot calling the kettle black.” Arching an imperious brow, she murmured speculatively, “I wonder which of those foul terms do you use for your wife since the evidence of her and your indiscretion arrived a mere six months after you and she wed?”
His eyes bugging out in disbelief at her brazenness, Kilbourne made a choking sound.
Not feeling the least remorseful about her appalling forwardness, Nicolette merely smiled sweetly.
Mathias didn’t spare her a glance but kept his irate focus trained on the other man. Mathias’s jaw flexed, and his nostrils quivered with suppressed rage. “I shall meet you on the field of honor, do not doubt it.”
A grayish-green tint to his features, Kilbourne looked decidedly ill, a sheen of sweat popping out on his forehead. Likely the duke believed he could insult her, bandy her good name about, and suffer no more repercussions than he had when he’d left her at the altar.
Except, Mathias was a duke, an equal to Kilbourne, and he could demand retribution.
“Sutcliffe and Pennington will act as my seconds.” Mathias clipped out each word, a snap of controlled fury. “Name your seconds and pick your weapon. I’ll see you at dawn the day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, Mathias,” Nicolette whispered. “No.”
The severity of the situation dismantled her prior satisfaction.
Kilbourne slanted her a baffled glance before giving a stiff jerk of his head. “As you wish.”
“And Kilbourne,” Mathias continued in a conversational tone. “Do consider carefully what you tell others when you go inside. It may very well make a difference whether I only draw first blood or end your miserable life.”
The temperate calm with which Mathias delivered that threat sent a shiver scuttling down Nicolette’s spine and raised her nape hair.
My God. He’s deadly serious.
His pallor waxen, Kilbourne stomped off without another word, his drunken gait uneven.
“Come, sweetheart. We should return to the ballroom.” Mathias tucked Nicolette’s hand into his arm. He was silent as they made the return trip along the well-tended pathways.
Nicolette’s mind whirled around and around, replaying what had just occurred and then leaping foreword to the day after tomorrow. To the duel. She must stop this insanity.
Tremors rippled through her as he slowly guided her back to the house. It wasn’t fear for her reputation, but stark terror for Mathias that sent shudder after shudder pulsing through her.
“Mathias, you cannot fight a duel over a drunken sot’s small-minded blathering,” Nicolette blurted, digging her heels in, forcing him to stop and face her. “I’m begging you. Please. Don’t go through with this.”
Blowing out a long breath, he lay his hand atop hers, resting in the crook of his arm. “He cannot speak so disparagingly of you, Nicolette, and not be held accountable.”
Tears clogged her throat at his inflexible defense of her. But as much as she appreciated it, the stark reality was, how she felt about herself was what mattered. Not what others thought of her.
She’d spent two long years, trying to prove to le beau monde she didn’t care about their opinions. And it wasn’t until this moment, when faced with a choice between her reputation and Mathias’s safety, that the truth convicted her.
None of them mattered a jot. He did.
“What if…? What if he apologizes?” she asked.
