Read Online The Scandalous Duke Takes a Bride by Tiffany Clare - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tiffany Clare
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eyes if he weren’t usurping her from the life she’d grown used to.
“Good afternoon, Countess. I thought we had an understanding on the hour we would meet?”
Had he come back to chastise her?
She slipped her hand from his and tilted her chin up. “You stated the time you would arrive, inviting yourself into my home without my say-so.”
Warren narrowed his gaze on her.
She sat on the sofa, falling back elegantly on the cushions as she invited him to sit. “I did leave you a note that I was previously engaged.”
“Sending word of your intent to walk with the Duke of Alsborough would not have been a hardship. I shouldn’t have to find out you aren’t in residence once I’ve already arrived.”
Her husband had expected her to wait in the wings for his every bidding. It seemed that was what Warren wanted, too. She would not make taking the Fallon seat convenient for him. He was, after all, forcing her from her home.
“Have you concluded your business here? I really do have some things to attend to.”
“Don’t brush me off like one of the bloody sots that follow at your heels.”
She stood and stepped close to him. No one had the authority to diminish the position of her dearest friends. “If I had such a power as that, I would not have begged to stay in the dowager house.”
And she would never forgive herself for doing so. She’d humiliated herself deliberately, to a man she loathed. And it had all been for nothing. Never again would she stoop so low as that. Never again.
“You know this is how it has to be.”
She looked away, tears threatening her stance in this argument. She refused to cry, because it would only give him more power over her. “And your reasoning is pathetic. I’m glad I never worried so much about what others thought of me throughout my life.”
“Your husband is no longer here to protect your standing,” he reminded her, though she needed no reminder. “You might find yourself in a position not entirely to your liking if you continue being so narrow-minded.”
He wasn’t worth the energy that it took to fight, so she glared at him, hoping he felt a modicum of her hatred and disgust toward him. “At least I can say I have lived life. You, Mr. Warren, live life worried about the regard or contempt someone might hold over your actions. That is not the kind of life I would ever envy.”
Warren tapped his long, manicured fingers along the sideboard. It seemed her words had finally gotten under his skin, for he was silent for a whole two minutes. That silence was too short-lived for her liking, however.
“Yet, your actions and refusal to live by the rules of society have made you a pariah. I prefer my standing to yours.”
He came toward her suddenly, his intent dark and dangerous, though she was not threatened by him; there were so many things worse than him in life and she knew instinctually that he would not raise his hand against a lady.
“You’ve made yourself an outsider,” he said. “An outlander in the society you profess to care for so deeply. That you would beg for salvation from me…”
He grasped her wrist tightly in his hand. She didn’t flinch; the violence her husband had shown raging at the surface of his control so often was not present in the man before her. Mr. Warren wanted nothing more than to frighten her. Of course, she would never give him that satisfaction.
“And you’ll never amount to anything but the weasel you are.”
She wrenched her hand away from his and stepped so close to him that he was forced to take a step back. The look in his eyes said he was surprised by the boldness of her action. This would not be the first time a man had judged her wrong.
“Never lay your hands upon me again.”
He turned away and strode toward the door. “Don’t forget who holds all the cards in this little game, Jessica.”
“I’m not likely to lose a battle with you.” She tilted her chin up, refusing to cower, even knowing that he could
“Good afternoon, Countess. I thought we had an understanding on the hour we would meet?”
Had he come back to chastise her?
She slipped her hand from his and tilted her chin up. “You stated the time you would arrive, inviting yourself into my home without my say-so.”
Warren narrowed his gaze on her.
She sat on the sofa, falling back elegantly on the cushions as she invited him to sit. “I did leave you a note that I was previously engaged.”
“Sending word of your intent to walk with the Duke of Alsborough would not have been a hardship. I shouldn’t have to find out you aren’t in residence once I’ve already arrived.”
Her husband had expected her to wait in the wings for his every bidding. It seemed that was what Warren wanted, too. She would not make taking the Fallon seat convenient for him. He was, after all, forcing her from her home.
“Have you concluded your business here? I really do have some things to attend to.”
“Don’t brush me off like one of the bloody sots that follow at your heels.”
She stood and stepped close to him. No one had the authority to diminish the position of her dearest friends. “If I had such a power as that, I would not have begged to stay in the dowager house.”
And she would never forgive herself for doing so. She’d humiliated herself deliberately, to a man she loathed. And it had all been for nothing. Never again would she stoop so low as that. Never again.
“You know this is how it has to be.”
She looked away, tears threatening her stance in this argument. She refused to cry, because it would only give him more power over her. “And your reasoning is pathetic. I’m glad I never worried so much about what others thought of me throughout my life.”
“Your husband is no longer here to protect your standing,” he reminded her, though she needed no reminder. “You might find yourself in a position not entirely to your liking if you continue being so narrow-minded.”
He wasn’t worth the energy that it took to fight, so she glared at him, hoping he felt a modicum of her hatred and disgust toward him. “At least I can say I have lived life. You, Mr. Warren, live life worried about the regard or contempt someone might hold over your actions. That is not the kind of life I would ever envy.”
Warren tapped his long, manicured fingers along the sideboard. It seemed her words had finally gotten under his skin, for he was silent for a whole two minutes. That silence was too short-lived for her liking, however.
“Yet, your actions and refusal to live by the rules of society have made you a pariah. I prefer my standing to yours.”
He came toward her suddenly, his intent dark and dangerous, though she was not threatened by him; there were so many things worse than him in life and she knew instinctually that he would not raise his hand against a lady.
“You’ve made yourself an outsider,” he said. “An outlander in the society you profess to care for so deeply. That you would beg for salvation from me…”
He grasped her wrist tightly in his hand. She didn’t flinch; the violence her husband had shown raging at the surface of his control so often was not present in the man before her. Mr. Warren wanted nothing more than to frighten her. Of course, she would never give him that satisfaction.
“And you’ll never amount to anything but the weasel you are.”
She wrenched her hand away from his and stepped so close to him that he was forced to take a step back. The look in his eyes said he was surprised by the boldness of her action. This would not be the first time a man had judged her wrong.
“Never lay your hands upon me again.”
He turned away and strode toward the door. “Don’t forget who holds all the cards in this little game, Jessica.”
“I’m not likely to lose a battle with you.” She tilted her chin up, refusing to cower, even knowing that he could
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