Page 2 of My Wicked Duke Next Door

Peregrine leaned forward. It was the first time she saw some tension in his body. He rested his forearms on his thighs as he challenged her with his gaze. Even seated, Rosamund was reminded of how imposing the Duke could be. He was not only tall but also broad-shouldered, possessing a frame that was not quite expected in a man with his wealth and influence. Men like him did not have to lift a finger for anything.

And yet -

His blue-gray eyes captured hers in a game that Rosamund did not fully understand.

“Fortunately for me, Lady Rosamund,” he muttered, the velvet humor slipping into something else. Something more dangerous. “English property law does not limit a peer from owning several pieces of land. Of houses. Of estates. If one can afford it, it is possible. It is allowed.”

“No wonder,” Rosamund snapped. “English property law was written by wealthy, titled men like you. Of course, it will benefit you. Even your arrogance seems to be protected by law.”

The glint of amusement was back in his pale eyes. He looked like he was on the verge of losing a battle to hold back a smile.

“Good God,” he said softly, almost as if he was expressing an endearment. “I had completely forgotten how entertaining you can be when angry.”

“I am not here to entertain you…Your Grace,” Rosamund retorted, managing to spit out his title.

“Perhaps not. It is clear that you have come to lecture me on estate management in your desire to reclaim Ashbourne Hall,” he said smoothly, rubbing his chin with his thumb. “However, your lecture is being carried out with pure enthusiasm, which has made my day immeasurably more entertaining. I am surprised that you have not called me a scoundrel yet.”

“Well, it is because I am exercising extreme restraint!” Rosamund felt that restraint fell apart at that very moment.

“Are you, then?” Peregrine asked, his eyes dancing. “Mm. I believe you must relax your restraint. You may end up fainting, and I may have to call the physician for you. Also, letting you restrain yourself will be depriving the neighborhood of your sentiments about me.”

“I am not that loud.”

Rosamund halted herself there, realizing that the man was enjoying trying to make her lose her temper even more. He gripped her chair’s armrests, pressing her boots on the rug as if it were the only way she could feel a semblance of balance and control. Her palm itched to slap the arrogant smirk from his handsome face.

Handsome?

How revolting! Why must her mind wander into something so irrelevant?

The Duke sat there, still completely calm and unbothered. He seemed the lawless picture of decorum, while she was about to throw everything away. Her entire world had fallen apart, tumbled upside down, and exploded. That was already done. She was there to try to put the pieces back together.

“Y-you think this is a game,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fury. “You are here in my father’s house, drinking his brandy, treating my family’s ruin as part of your daily diversion. Is that why you come here from time to time? To remember how you took full advantage of our ruin?”

Peregrine’s smirk faded slightly, his eyes hardening. “You must know that your father’s cellar had been emptied years ago. I drink my own brandy. I must also continue correcting you. While this place is still called Ashbourne Hall, it is no longer your family’s property.”

“Yes! It is why I have the money prepared for you. All of this was because of you!” she yelled, no longer even pretending she was trying to behave. “You could not rest until you exposed him”

This time, the smile was completely gone. A ringing began in her ears from the silence. Had she expected him to laugh at her? Perhaps. But no. He was not laughing at all. In fact, silence had taken over the drawing room.

Rosamund felt the temperature in the room plunge. Earlier, she was hot with rage. Now, there was a chill. She could not understand Peregrine’s reaction at all. Was he furious? It did not seem so, not on the surface, anyway. However, the humor and teasing were replaced by something colder and more restrained.

“Ashbourne Hall,” he said with a flat voice that no longer carried a teasing edge, “Will not be sold, Lady Rosamund. Not to you or any of your family. Not to Pilgrim’s Bank. Not to anyone else who comes knocking at my door. That is final.”

Rosamund clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. She grasped at her remaining self-control, but it was quite a challenge. Her chest rose and fell rapidly from the effort. She imagined the man had found a different tactic in making her feel intimidated. The Duke of Westbourne did not like being told he had taken advantage of a ruined family. Not at all. He had further plans for her. For them. He wanted her to beg.

“I hope you will remember how much you are enjoying this,” she muttered, as she rose from her seat. Not to be outdone, Peregrine stood, towering over her. Rosamund stayed where she was. She would not cower. “You took something that means so much to us. Then, you shut it down so that nobody could even enjoy it as a home. Not even you.”

Peregrine looked down at her. For a moment there, she thought she saw something difficult to read in his eyes. She always thought a man like him would only show arrogance and amusement. But there was something else there, and she felt like they would answer her primary question: why keep Ashbourne Hall at all?

“Believe whatever pleases you, Lady Rosamund,” he said, his voice low. It did not feel like a threat. It almost felt like regret. “You usually have your own opinions over everything.”

She did not like that she was claiming kinship with her by alluding to things that he knew about her. Just because he was Henry’s friend - former friend - he could -

No!

“You are enjoying this game because you know that I cannot force you to return to Ashbourne Hall,” Rosamund said, lifting her chin. What was left of her now but defiance? She could not afford to falter. “You must know that I am not going to give up. I spent years trying to secure the funds to reclaim this house. In those years, my mind had been tortured. This refusal will not change my mind.”

Peregrine smiled. This time, it looked more sad than arrogant. It almost felt weary and resigned. “I never imagined that you would give up,” he said. “I have not forgotten who you are, Lady Rosamund.”