His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two

“I’m sorry.” Those were the first words that came to Burke’s mind. The only words.

Across from him, Olivia sniffed. “Why should you be sorry? This is the perfect situation for you. A new name, a title, a fortune, a wife. Any man would be pleased—”

“I am not any man,” he replied sharply. Taking a breath, he scooted to the edge of the sofa, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “Lady Olivia, it is very important to me that you know that I had nothing to do with this.”

She scoffed. “That’s hard to believe.”

“You must believe it,” he said, crossing the narrow expanse of carpet between them to sit at her side, his back to the card players. “Not ten minutes before I approached your mother in that ballroom, I was being harangued in the music room by the duchess, threatened into agreeing to this foolish scheme. If you don’t believe me, ask James. He knows every particular. You could even ask George,” he added, “if I thought he’d tell you the truth.”

“I’ll not be speaking to the duke again,” she murmured. “I may be a captive in this house while the duchess has her way with me, but I’ve not completely lost hold of my dignity.”

He blinked, surprised she would admit so much to him.

She just rolled her eyes. “Lord James is your closest friend, and your infatuation with Miss Harrow has not gone unnoticed. You know what they know about me…don’t you, Mr. Corbin?” She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pursued as she waited to detect a lie.

“Please don’t call me that,” he said. “My name is Burke. The duchess can try to make the Corbin name stick, but I will never be a Corbin…and I’ll never be Baron Margate either.”

Olivia sucked in a breath. “You can’t be serious.” For once, her mask of anger dropped. All Burke saw was fear. “Do you mean to jilt me, sir?”

Burke reached instinctively for her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Oh, god.” She jerked her hand out of his grasp. “You do. You mean not to honor the engagement.”

“Olivia, no—” He paused. “Damn it—well, yes…but only if I have to, and I don’t think I will—”

“I can’t do this.” She braced her hands on her knees. “No, not again.”

“Olivia, I will only jilt you if we cannot come up with a better alternative together that is not matrimony—”

“Were you kicked in the head today?” she snapped, glaring at him. “I thought you were a clever man, Mr. Corb—Burke. There is no way out of this other than the altar.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be me waiting at the end of it,” he blurted.

She blinked, eyes wide, her mouth open in a shocked little “O”.

“Just try and hear me.” He scooted an inch closer to her. “If you trade me in for someone better, then no one will bat an eye when you jilt me.”

She let out a breath, her chest rapidly rising and falling. “This is…you’re mad. You know what the duchess will do if she doesn’t get her way—”

“Leave the duchess to me,” he replied. “She will not hurt you, Olivia. If she tries, then James, Renley, your mother, Miss Harrow—we will all refute her claims.”

“You are lucky, sir…to have so many people close to you who are willing to fight on your behalf.”

“And yours,” he pressed. “Look, I brought Darnley and Seymour here for you. They are both highly eligible and—”

“You did what?” she hissed, rage flashing in her eyes as she glanced over his shoulder towards the lords currently playing whist. “Do you think I’ll just say ‘yes’ to any man with a title and a beating heart who stumbles into the drawing room? It’s despicable. I am not for sale!”

“We have very limited options here,” Burke countered. “As I see it, the only one where you keep your social standing intact is to jilt me for a better man. I have brought two for your consideration. So why don’t you put your claws away, flash a little smile, and go talk to Lord Darnley.”

Her eyes blazed. “I would not marry John Darnley for all the tea in England. The man only cares about horse racing and whores! You think he wasn’t already on my mother’s many lists of eligible suitors?”

“Then I will help you find a different one! Just tell me what you want. Make a list of attributes, and I will find you that man.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You will…or Miss Harrow will?”

He sucked in a breath and leaned back. “What?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes again. “Of course. I knew she had to be up to something earlier. All that talk at the park.” She leveled her gaze at him. “You all think to manage me? To make me go away quietly?”

“Olivia, please—”

“What if I counter your offer with one of my own?”

A stone of foreboding sank into his stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Perhaps I don’t need to jilt you by marrying another,” she replied with a little smirk. “What if I just tell the whole ton about your unsavory relationship with your benefactor’s ward?”

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Don’t play with me, sir,” she hissed. “You think I can’t see the way you look at her? The way you watch her? The way you have to stop yourself from touching her? It’s clear you’ve been granted such liberty before. Could anyone blame me if I chose not to marry a man who was already involved with another?”

“You will leave her out of this,” he growled.

“The papers have already linked her to both the Corbin brothers,” she went on, because she apparently had a death wish. “Heavens, what kind of den of iniquity exists in this house, sir? Is she at the center of it? Perhaps the ton will applaud me for unmasking such debauchery.” She lifted her chin, giving him a little imperious smile. “And thus falls the House of Corbin, undone by a licentious ward.”

Burke’s voice was deathly quiet as he said, “If you dare speak a word against her, I will ruin you.” He leaned in closer. “I will hound you to the ends of this earth, and when you reach the very end, I will push you over the edge.”

She smiled in satisfaction, clearly enjoying his heated response. “And here I thought you meant to help me. How fickle you are. How false.”

He let out a slow breath, squeezing his hands into tight fists to control their shaking. “I will help you find another unsuspecting mortal to marry, you charmless gorgon. But threaten Miss Harrow in my presence ever again, and like Perseus, I will rip off your fucking head and mount it on the wall. Now, do you want my help, or not?”