Page 23 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

“I dare because you are here in my place of business with your comments and your jibes. What is it you want? Are you upset about the money or the children?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Likely both. Although, judging by the way you treated your son and his wife, it is very reasonable that they should wish to keep your grandchildren as far away from you as possible.”

The duke stepped closer, his fists at his sides, and he said, “I do not know why you are taunting me with such words. It is that spinster who has the children, not you.” He grinned, and as it always had done, it made a prickle of unease move down Nicholas’s spine. “I shall start by ruining her until she has no choice but to hand over the twins, my legacy, those who will carry on my name.”

Nicholas rose, heading back to the whisky again. He was trembling with rage. He had kept from hurting the duke on David’s behalf, but David was no longer here to stop him. Nicholas could think of nothing more satisfying than planting a fist in the old man’s face. After pouring a glass and not offering one to the duke, he took a sip and turned back again.

The duke’s eye dipped to his glass. “It seems you have your own vices then. I have entered the den of iniquity.”

Ignoring him, Nicholas said, “If you should like to get to Miss Debrett, Your Grace, then I’m afraid you will have to go through me.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“For she is to become my wife.” For the first time in days, the words sounded right.

The duke straightened, his angry face growing even redder. “You lie.”

“Not at all. It seemed the most sensible choice to combine the money and the children.”

“Damn you! I had not wished to believe it, but I eventually discovered David’s great foolishness in leaving you his fortune. He was always so swayed by you. I can only believe that you somehow convinced him.”

Nicholas seethed. “I told you. It did not take any convincing for David to wish for everything that was his to be as far away from you as possible.”

Sputtering and furious, the duke spun around, hurrying out of the office. Nicholas put his whisky down and followed him. The duke pushed through the crowd, but then he knocked down one of the ladies on his way, shouting at her and towering over her as he did so. Nicholas’s patience wore thin. He hurried down the steps and pushed himself between the duke and the young woman.

“You are out of line, old man,” he spat.

“Am I? It is not I who concedes to have whores in his establishment.”

This time, Nicholas could feel the eyes of the crowd on him, even though the buzz of noise remained the same.

“They are not whores. They serve food and drink to my guests. They are women earning a living, just as anyone has the right to.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you enjoy taking a bit on the side. Just like your father. Poor Miss Debrett. She has no idea what sort of marriage she will be entering,” he teased, and Nicholas saw red. His father had been a reprobate in many ways; that was true enough. But the duke was no prize. “Well, if you are going to be unfaithful, Meinster, then you had better keep it to that and not kill her like you killed your mother.”

At that, Nicholas’s worn patience now snapped. He cared not for the duke’s age or anything else. He punched the man square in the face, and it was the most satisfying sight to see the duke cry out in pain and tumble over in the view of everyone in the gambling hall. Darren lifted a brow from where he stood and smiled.

This time, there was silence as the old man struggled to his feet, breathing heavy, with a heavy glower. There was a cut on his lip, and he lifted a shaking finger in Nicholas’s direction.

“Enjoy your little gaming club while you have it, Your Grace.” He spat blood onto the carpet. “For it will not be long.”

Nicholas knew the duke’s tenacity when it came to ruining others, but he would not show weakness. With his fists clenched at his sides, he stood at the doorway to leave.

“Run along now, Wexford. And best get some cold meat on that soon-to-be black eye.”

Seething, the duke stomped out without a word, and Nicholas slammed the door behind him. Applause rose up from the room, and Nicholas waved them to silence.

“Carry on,” he said and then left for the stairs. He needed a plan now. For the duke was a man without principle, but in these sorts of vengeful matters, he was most certainly a man of his word.

CHAPTER 9

The next day after breakfast, Cordelia sat in the sitting room, distracted, awaiting the time for her to prepare the carriage and go to collect the children. A room for the children had been prepared, and she was now eager to get them away from their grandfather. Although, she was not eager to have another run-in with him.

She paced, dreading the moment when she would have to leave, to face the Duke of Wexford but also to take the new step in her new life. And having been kissed within an inch of her life only the day before was not helping matters.

I think I will surprise you at every turn, he had told her, and she couldn’t get those words out of her head. Nor could she get the thought of his soft lips moving over hers as his tongue⁠—

“Miss Debrett?” Cordelia jumped at the sound of the young footman’s voice as he stepped into the sitting room.

“Yes?” she asked, blushing and feeling so utterly foolish she was glad the duke wasn’t there to tease her about it.