Page 65 of My Cruel Duke

There was no use crying over spilled milk. He made the hard decision to stay away from her, to let her go, and he would see to it.

That was if he did not turn into an alcoholic before then.

“Your Grace?”

Rhysand had successfully traveled to a place where people did not recognize him as the Duke of Huxton. He had traveled to Scotland a few times, and though he had a few properties and business associates, he never felt the need to announce himself as a duke. Additionally, it gave him a little anonymity that he had somehow come to love. Here, he was not the Duke of Huxton or theCruel Duke,but Rhysand; yet when he heard the title from a feminine voice, he whipped his head toward the voice. His lips twisted into a sour frown.

Over a hundred people were in the gentlemen's club, and he doubted he was the only duke present. He should not have turned, he thought, but it was too late now.

“It is really you!” Lady Madeline smiled broadly and lodged herself at his table.

“What are you doing here?” He narrowed his eyes.

“I could ask you the same. The news circulating London is that you are traveling by sea for business, and you might not return until after a year.”

Rhysand balled his fists. He had not thought much about it when he left. He just knew he could not be mere minutes away from Penny and not run into her arms if she would let him.

My Darling.

He had done what Patrick Hislop did after condemning him harshly for it. In his case, it was worse because he had a pregnant wife back at home.

“This is not a ship, Your Grace.” Lady Madeline opened her arms. He grabbed his half-filled glass and threw back the liquid down his throat.

Rhysand had met Lady Madeline a year ago, and she had been his mistress for half a year. He stopped needing her services because she could not satisfy him, and then he found out she had multiple gentlemen warming her bed. Lady Madeline had made it her sole goal to get him back into her bed.

“It is also not news that your dear wife is pregnant.”

She raised a brow, gauging his reaction. Rhysand said nothing.

“I can understand if you needed some distance away from her. Pure girls like her are usually a bore.”

Rhysand scoffed and turned to her. A wicked smile sat on his lips as he raised his hand to her face; then, with one finger, he traced the side of her face down to her neck, which he grabbed and applied some pressure to.

Lady Madeline parted her lips to gasp for breath.

“You tried to drown her.” Her eyes widened in shock. “I promised not to do anything to you, so you shall live to see another day. You should thank her when you return to London.”

His smile widened.

“If you ever try to harm her again, I promise I will kill you myself,” he spat and withdrew his fingers from her neck.

* * *

“No!” Aunt Augusta said with her arms folded. Penny’s lips hung open as she stared at her with irritation.

Lydia twirled, showing off the magnificent dress she had chosen for herself.

“Yes!” Penny retorted.

“It does not compliment her skin tone,” Aunt Augusta argued as she narrowed her eyes at Penny.

“I have chosen all of Lydia’s dresses. I only choose what is best for her, Aunty.”

“I can choose a spectacular dress for her,” Aunt Augusta scoffed. “Pregnancy has spoiled you. I only pray the baby does not come out as spoiled as you are.” Aunt Augusta joked, and everyone at the modiste shop they were in laughed.

“That is impossible, Aunty. That is the child’s attitude,” Lydia added.

“Good thing Penny is the mother. It would be interesting to watch her work with this attitude all day.”