Page 66 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“I will keep that in mind next time I am up against a gang in the alleys of London.”

“Marigold, do not even jest about this,” he snarled at her.

Marigold raised her eyebrow but had to nod in compliance when she met his dark look. The Duke was certainly not taking this lightly.

“Do not worry, Your Grace. I have left my alley-wondering days behind,” Marigold reassured. “I wish I could say the same about you and Owen, but I know I would be asking for too much, so the least you can do for me is tell me all that you can share.”

The Duke sighed again as he openly weighed his options. Marigold stood her ground firmly and waited for him to make the right decision.

“You know most of it,” Brandon finally spoke.

“I know what you intend to do,” Marigold admitted. “You’re going to use the information I gave you to dismantle Johnny’s gang. How?”

“We are putting pressure on them.”

“I am going to be discreet, never ask how Owen is involved in all this, and pretend that it is only because he is your good friend and supports you.”

The Duke looked down at her, taking one step closer, appraising her as if he were seeing her for the first time.

“I always prided myself on reading people well from the first look,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “but you, sweetheart, you keep surprising me.”

“Somebody ought to keep you on your toes, Your Grace,” Marigold answered back.

He let out one genuine laugh as he shook his head, like a man who realized that he had made a terrible mistake and didn’t even regret it.

“I will not tell you the specifics, but the plan is to push them into a corner and force them out.”

Marigold went somber and pondered on that plan. She looked up at the Duke, nodding.

“Again,” she said sternly, “I will pretend that I don’t know that this is going to take a lot more manpower than two men can provide. I sincerely hope that you don’t plan on waiting for Johnny to come out on the offensive when he’s like a wounded beast with just you and Owen.”

Brandon lowered his chin and looked at his wife, this time as if realizing he was in trouble.

“I will simply say that you can rest assured.”

“If you try to dismantle Johnny’s gang, no one is going to be favorable in all the docks.” Marigold spoke with the voice she had when handling the ledgers, practical and finite.

“I am well aware,” the Duke nodded.

Marigold was not satisfied with that dismissive answer. Her mind’s eye brought forth the image of him lying bloodied at the foot of the stairs, unable to support his own body. Her skin crawled with the same fear it did when she saw him like that, the sheer terror, the trembling hands, the cold sweat running down her spine.

“I do not want you to be aware, Brandon,” she said, fear and anger taking the best of her. “I want you to be prepared and cautious.”

Her visceral reaction took him by surprise. His jaw slightly dropped, and he frowned not in anger but in shock at her outburst.

“Marigold—”

“Do not even dare to ‘Marigold’ me, and do not mention ‘sweetheart’ right at this moment.” Marigold left the threat lingering in the air.

“I know what I’m doing,” he said firmly.

“I am sure that if I were to ask before your infamous reconnaissance,” Marigold was shaking with dread, “you would have given me the same enlightened answer. And you still would have come back home with a broken nose, cracked ribs, and bloodied.”

“That was different. This time⁠—”

“Why must there be a ‘this time’?” Marigold demanded. “I am here. I am safe. Donny cannot touch me anymore. I know you want to do this for Greta, but she would not want to see you hurt. I cannot bear to see you hurt.”

Brandon was left speechless, the usual cold, distant Duke, almost awkward, not knowing how to address the situation and her waterfall of emotions.