Page 52 of If the Duke Demands

Williams pulled back only far enough to snarl at her, “Like it rough, do you?” Then he shoved her back against the wall.

Sebastian grabbed him by the shoulder and pivoted him around as his clenched fist plowed into the man’s jaw. The force of the surprise blow dropped Williams to the ground.

“Apologize,” Sebastian demanded through gritted teeth as he towered over Williams at his feet, forcing out each word in a barely contained growl as red fury flashed through him.

Williams shot out, “The hell I will!”

“It’s all right,” Miranda assured him as she placed her hand on Sebastian’s right arm to keep him from punching the bastard a second time. “It was only a misunderstanding.”

He didn’t believe that for a moment. And tonight, he was feeling just keyed up enough to engage in a full-out brawl to burn off the frustration and swirling energy inside him that he couldn’t put to rest. The same frustration that had burned inside him since the masquerade.

“Apologize,” he repeated.

Williams touched the trickle of blood seeping from his cut lip and bit out, “My apologies.”

“Accepted,” Miranda quickly answered and tugged on Sebastian’s hand to lead him away. But he wasn’t about to move before he was ready.

“Don’tevertouch her again,” he threatened as Williams climbed unsteadily to his feet. “And not one ill word about her to anyone unless you want a duel.”

Williams laughed at that and sent a scathing look of contempt at her. “That poplolly isn’t worth the waste of a bullet.”

With Miranda still clinging to his right arm, Sebastian swung with his left. He caught Williams hard in the other jaw. This time when the man crumpled to the ground, he knew enough to remain down.

Anger coursed wildly through him, pulsing with each pounding beat of his heart as he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her behind him down the path. He refused to let her go even as she called for him to stop, not looking back and forcing her to practically run to keep up with his long strides. No one in the crowd around them paid the slightest bit of attention. A woman being hauled physically from the gardens by an angry man was also a nightly occurrence.

“We’re leaving!” he shouted at Quinn as he passed their box, his brother sitting on the front railing, surrounded by his friends. Thankfully, Lady Jane and his mother were nowhere in sight. “I’m taking Miranda home.”

“Why?” Quinn yelled back through the noise as the first fireworks streamed into the air and burst overhead in a shower of brilliant reds and blues. Around them the crowd cheered.

“Headache,” Sebastian snarled.

Quinn frowned with concern. “Miranda has a headache?”

“No,” he muttered beneath his breath, “I do.”

CHAPTERTEN

Audley House!” Sebastian ordered the coachman as he yanked open the carriage door and set her inside on the bench. As he swung inside and slammed the door closed, he pounded his fist against the roof, and the carriage set off with a lurch.

Miranda’s heart pounded furiously. He was angry, far angrier than she had ever seen him. He leaned forward, elbows on knees as he glared at her through the shadows of the dark compartment.

“What in the hell happened between you two?” His voice seethed with such white-hot anger that it shook.

She lifted her chin, preparing for battle. She refused—simplyrefused!—to show any weakness in front of him by looking away. Instead, she boldly glared back, silently daring him to keep pushing…because after the night she’d had, she’d gladly push back.

“I did nothing wrong,” she defended herself. “I left Robert and Miss Morgan by the folly, and I was walking back to the box when Burton Williams met me on the path and remembered me from the St James ball. He insisted that he escort me back, to protect me.” She nearly laughed at the irony ofthat. “I declined. But apparently, he isn’t used to being refused by women.”

His jaw clenched so hard that even in the dark shadows she could see the muscles in his neck working as he ground his teeth. “Did he hurt you?”

“Just my arm.” She winced as she rubbed her forearm where Williams had grabbed her. Surely there would be a bruise in the morning.

“Before I arrived,” he clarified slowly. He clenched and unclenched his fists in a cold, restrained fury that made her shiver. His eyes were black. “Did that bastard force himself on you?”

Understanding fell through her like ice water, dousing her own anger. Sebastian wasn’t upset at her; he was furious at Burton Williams. So furious that if she uttered the wrong word she knew he would turn the carriage around, charge back to Vauxhall, and murder the man for daring to touch her.

“No,” she breathed, her eyes never leaving his. “He did not.”

Heaving out a harsh breath, he leaned back against the squabs and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I have to serve with Williams’s father in the Lords. Houghton and I fill the same committees.” He bit out a curse beneath his breath as he shook his head. “What would my father say about this?”