His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two

Tears stung Rosalie’s eyes, but she wasn’t going to let them fall. She squared off against the duchess, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She heard the horrible things this woman shouted at James, at her own son. Rosalie knew bad parenting better than any person living. She could taste the cruelty and manipulation on her tongue. It had the bitter tang of iron. It sickened her.

From the moment she entered the room, she wanted nothing more than to fling herself in front of James, determined to stop any more blows from touching him. Even when he spoke harshly of her, she wanted to be his shield. He stood there now, eyes wide, watching her with an anxious look on his face.

The duchess called out in a loud voice, “Well, Miss Rose? Are you or are you not my ward? For if you are not, you will pack your bags and leave this very hour. I will not waste my time or my generosity on an ungrateful girl who does not understand the value of rank and respectability.“

She turned her full attention to the duchess. “You speak of respect, and yet you have offered me none.”

The duchess gasped. “You impudent little—”

“You summoned me to Alcott under false pretenses,” Rosalie pressed. “You knew what you wanted when you invited me. You waited until I was already here before you demanded I become your spy. You manipulated me, Your Grace. Playing on my emotions, using the memory of my dead mother as your way into my confidence.”

“Lies,” the duchess retorted. “I loved Elinor—”

“I am not here because of any warmth of feeling you harbor for me or my mother. I am here because you don’t want to lose control!”

The words hung in the air between the four of them. Neither of her sons dared to move. They were too shocked by Rosalie’s display. Rosalie was equally shocked.

The duchess broke first, blinking away angry tears. “You dare presume to know me?”

Rosalie inched closer, a soft smile on her lips. “I know only what you have told me.”

The duchess simmered with fury and resentment…and a whisper of fear. Rosalie could see it as the faintest of glimmers in the lady’s deep blue eyes.

James stepped forward, missing nothing. “What have you told her, mother?”

The duchess ignored the accusing looks of her sons. She narrowed her eyes at Rosalie. “What are you after, you scheming little rosebud? What do you want?”

Rosalie met her stare for stare. “I want only that which any person would want: a choice. You cannot declare to a room full of people that I am your ward without first hearing me say the words. If I stay, it must only be my choice.”

The duchess scoffed. “And what makes you think I will have you within fifty feet of my home after this disgusting display? I would see you set out on the curb with the rest of the trash.”

Now James stepped forward. He barreled around the back of the sofa and came to Rosalie’s side. “Speak to her like that again, and I will not be responsible for my actions.”

Rosalie’s heart was in her throat. She could feel the rage simmering off his skin, hot as a flame.

The duchess just laughed. “Oh, this is precious. Are you declaring yourself for her?”

“No,” James grit out. “But nor will I let you bully her…or Burke.”

She turned all her attention on him, eyes flashing. “Now we come to it at last. This is what has you so upset with me. You still think I did wrong by Burke. All this anger is because you don’t want to lose your friend in marriage.” She laughed and the sound made Rosalie’s stomach twist. “Well, grow up, James.”

“His marriage will not be moving forward,” James declared. “Start whatever scheming necessary to undo what you’ve done. He will not marry Lady Olivia.”

The duchess put her hands on her hips. “Unless you want to ruin the lady, she must go through with the match. And I told you what would happen if you went against me on this. I will cut you off without a penny, James. Do not test me.”

He stepped closer, his face now inches from hers. “Then do it.”

A long moment stretched between them. Finally, the duchess snarled and leaned away.

James barked a hollow laugh. “We both know your threat is empty. I am a viscount in my own right. The land, the title, the income associated with it—it’s all mine. You cannot touch it.” He placed himself squarely between Rosalie and his mother. “Threaten me again and watch how fast I leave. Once I am gone, you and George can shatter the dukedom into pieces. Perhaps I might acquire a shard for myself when it is inevitably sold off.”

“You would watch your family crumble?” the duchess cried. “All for the sake of winning a contest of wills with me?”

“Burke is my family,” he parried. “I am not the Duke of Norland, as you so regularly remind me. If you decide to follow through with your threats against Burke or myself, I will leave you.” He glanced at the duke and added, “Both of you.”

“James…” the duke murmured, finding his voice at last.

There was a desperate glint in the duchess’ eye. She’d bullied her way into a corner and now there was no escape. Her gaze landed on Rosalie, and she smirked. “Go if you must, you ungrateful boy. Take Burke with you…but Miss Harrow stays.”

Rosalie’s heart clenched tight.

James stepped in close. “I will not leave her here to be abused by you.”

The duchess laughed, a flash of triumph on her face. “You cannot possibly think to move an unmarried young lady into your bachelor’s den. You would ruin her reputation for certain, what little she has of it,” she added with a sneer. “And we all know she will not marry you. She doesn’t want you, James.”

Rosalie couldn’t take this another second. She stepped forward, her hand brushing James’ as she faced the duchess. “You cannot keep me here.”

“You have nowhere else to go,” the duchess replied. “Without my generosity, you will be on the street—”

“Enough!”

They all turned as the duke approached. So far, he’d merely watched them all tear at each other with their talons. Now he looked furious, his cheeks pink.

“George, darling—”

“I said enough,” he barked at the duchess. “This has all been more than enough.” He rounded on his brother, pointing a trembling finger in his face. “James, you are not dismissed. I do not give you leave of me. You will stay in this house, and you will do your job, which is to say you will do my job. Threaten to leave me again, and I will ruin you. You may be a viscount, but I am a duke. I breathe air reserved for kings. Just try and escape me, little brother.”

Then he turned on their mother. “As for you, mama…speak to my brother with such violence again, and I will turn you out on the street. See how you like living outside the warmth of any familial love.”

She gasped. “George, you can’t—”

He ignored her, turning his gaze on Rosalie. “Now for you, Miss Harrow…do you like living here? I mean, this disastrous and horribly uncomfortable conversation aside,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Rosalie blinked, glancing from the duchess to James. “I…”

“Don’t look at them, look at me,” he pressed. “I asked you a question. Do you like living at Corbin House? Would you like to stay here? Or Alcott Hall…or the townhouse in Bath—any of my properties, really.”

She held his gaze.

“You said you want a choice, and I’m giving it to you now,” he said gently. “Do you want to be a ward of the Corbin family?”

She swallowed down all her fears, looking only at the duke. “Yes,” she whispered.

He clapped his hands once, a broad smile on his face. “Well, then that settles it. Rosalie Harrow is my ward now.”