Any Duchess Will Do (Spindle Cove #4)(71)
Author: Tessa Dare

It was her. All her.

He’d been dead inside. She’d brought him back to life.

“I’d die for her,” he said. “And I’d kill for her. The rest doesn’t concern you right now.”

“Devil take me. You do love her.” Del ducked, parrying Griff’s enraged strike. “Oh, this is even worse. Just what are you expecting to come of it? You plan to make her your mistress?”

“Guess again.”

“Well, I know you don’t mean to marry her.” Delacre laughed. “That would be rich. I can see the scandal sheets now: ‘the Barmaid Duchess.’ ”

They locked swords. Griff flexed his arm, pushing the crossed blades forward until one edge lodged against Del’s throat.

“I think the papers will carry a different story tomorrow. One about the late Lord Delacre.”

He mustered all the strength in his arm and prepared to flex.

“Griff! Griff, no!”

Chapter Twenty-four

Pauline skittered to a halt in the doorway, having hastily dressed in yesterday’s discarded frock. “Don’t do this,” she called. “He’s your oldest friend. You don’t want to hurt him.”

“Oh, I want to hurt him,” Griff said evenly. “I want, very much, to hurt him.”

Fair enough. She couldn’t deny that after hearing his cruel words, watching Lord Delacre squirm conveyed a particular sort of pleasure. But it had to stop there.

“Griff, please.” In cautious steps, she approached the men. “His life isn’t worth one-tenth of yours. Your mother is in the house somewhere. You don’t want her to see this. And if nothing else moves you, think of the servants. There would be a horrific mess.”

“Do you hear that, Del? That’s the lowly barmaid pleading for your life. The woman you insulted, begging me to spare your loathsome skin. I think you ought to thank her.” Through gritted teeth, he added, “Now.”

Delacre nervously cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“ ‘Thank you, Miss Simms,’ ” Griff demanded. “And make me believe it.”

“Thank you, Miss Simms. I owe you my loathsome skin.”

Griff inhaled through his nose. Then slowly exhaled. After a long moment, he shoved away, and both swords clattered to the floor.

Delacre slumped to the ground with relief.

Pauline felt like doing the same.

“When next you see her,” Griff said, giving Delacre a light kick in the ribs, “you will greet her with respect and address her by her rightful name. As her grace, the Duchess of Halford.”

Now Pauline’s knees truly buckled. “What?”

“What?” Delacre echoed. “Halford, we had a pact.”

“For God’s sake. Leave off about the stupid pact. We were nineteen. At that age, we thought midnight grouse hunts were a grand idea, too.”

Griff crossed to Pauline and took her hands in his. “I can’t let you leave today.”

She shook her head with vigor. “No, no. Griff, I can’t stay. My sister. I promised her.”

“I’ll take care of her,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you both. Always. From this moment on you will never need to work again. Never need to be anxious or fearful. I will take care of everything.”

Oh, Lord.

“But you must stay with me and see this through. If you retreat today, the gossips will claim their victory.” His thumb caressed her hand. “We can have a future together, but we must seize it now. We can be married today.”

“Today? Are you mad?”

“Not at all. There are only a few men in England who could procure a special license on such short notice. I’m one of them. We’ll marry today, and tonight you’ll appear in public as the Duchess of Halford. No one will dare to cut you, just on the basis of a rumor in the scandal sheets. You’re beautiful and gracious and clever, and you have that whole silly etiquette book memorized. We’ll show them all tonight. You can do this.”

She wanted to believe him. She did. But how could she, when she could see very well the reaction of his own supposed best friend?

“She will never be one of us,” Delacre said. “Not even if you marry her. You know it, too, Halford. Be honest with yourself, and with her. The gossip will be savage. You will lose almost all of your social connections.” He struggled to his feet. “It gives me no pleasure to say this. But I’m trying to be your friend.”

“You are not my friend,” Griff grated out. “Get the hell out. And pray I don’t send my second with a challenge tonight.”

“I am your second,” Delacre said as he left the room. “You don’t have anyone else.”

See? she wanted to exclaim. It was happening already. Perhaps Delacre wasn’t much of a loss, but there would be others. She didn’t want to see Griff estranged from all his friends.

As for her, there was no question. She must go home, tonight. If she didn’t come back as promised, Daniela would feel betrayed and abandoned. Pauline couldn’t live with herself then. She’d sworn to never make her sister feel that way again.

She had to end this now. In no uncertain terms.

The duchess entered then, dressed in a quiet gray silk enlivened by a collar of sapphires and diamonds. “What on earth is going on?” she demanded, her keen gaze sweeping the room. “Griffin, explain this commotion.”

“Delacre’s a jackass. And I’m in love with Pauline.”

“Well,” the duchess said after a moment’s pause. “I already knew both of those things. Neither quite explains the state of my salon.”

Griff’s eyes never left Pauline’s. “I’m going to marry her.”

“No, your grace,” Pauline countered. “He’s not.”

The duchess arched a brow. “Does that mean I cast the deciding vote?”

“No,” Griff and Pauline said in unison.

She seemed unconvinced. “We’ll see.”

Pauline drew him aside and whispered, “Griff, this just can’t happen.”

“Why can’t it?”

“How many times must I point out the obvious? You are a duke. I am a serving girl.”

“You won’t be a serving girl tonight. You will be a duchess. A beautiful, poised woman who can hold her head high anywhere. And I will be the proudest man alive to stand at your side.”

“But what pride will I have, when I’m pretending to be someone I’m not?”