Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,88

longed to call out the man on such deception, Weston knew it was important to keep peace in the family. Lord and Lady Ruthersby were Claire’s aunt and uncle. He didn’t want her alienated from them, or rather, from Joseph and Josiah. They were good boys and he believed he could lend a guiding hand to help mold them into being good men.

He did want Elise and Claire to be taken care of in case anything should happen to him before they could produce an heir. The dukedom would go to a distant cousin that Weston didn’t think much of. Hence, his instructions to his solicitor to create legal documents to see his family protected. Satisfied, he signed the papers and thanked the man for doing such speedy work.

“It is an honor to serve you, Your Grace.”

Weston left the offices and instructed his driver where to go in the park. As they entered, he noted how open the road was. In a few hours, it would be clogged with carriages and people jockeying for position to see and be seen. Now, though, it was easy to navigate the path.

The carriage stopped and as he climbed out, he saw his sister, her arms around a crying Claire, comforting her. He glanced about and didn’t see his wife anywhere.

Rushing to the pair, he asked, “Where is Elise?”

Sam looked perplexed. “She was here. And then I saw her riding off in a carriage.” She pointed at a vehicle in the distance. “That one.”

Alarm filled him. Without a goodbye, he ran to his own vehicle and leaped into the box next to his driver.

“Go! Now! Follow that carriage.”

Thanks to the skill of his driver and the speed of his horses, they closed the gap within minutes. Suddenly, the vehicle they were chasing came to a stop. Weston leaped from the box and hurried forward, flinging open the door.

Shock filled him as he saw Lord Ivy with a pistol trained on Elise. Weston hurled himself into the carriage, wanting to block Ivy from shooting her. His hand flew up and grabbed the viscount’s wrist, driving the gun upward. It went off, the noise deafening inside the small area.

His ears ringing, Weston forced the gun from Ivy’s hand and struck blow after blow, seeing red. Then from a distance, he heard his name being called and someone shaking his shoulders.

“Weston! Weston! Stop—or you’ll kill him.”

That had been his intention but reason prevailed. He quit pounding Ivy’s face and collapsed on the opposite seat. The viscount curled up, a bloody mess.

He looked at Elise, who said, “He was going to let me go. I’d convinced him you would kill him if he didn’t.”

“I may still,” he said angrily, seeing Ivy flinch at his words. “I should’ve allowed you to challenge me months ago when you wanted to. I would have killed you then and been done with it.”

But Weston wouldn’t have met Elise if he’d done so. And if he killed Lord Ivy now, it could ruin her reputation—and that of their children. Only for that reason would he show this bastard any kind of mercy.

“Where is your country estate?” he growled, tightening the rein on his temper.

“Cumbria,” Ivy spit out, blood and two teeth coming out as he responded. “Near the Scottish border.”

“You will go there and remain. Never return to London. Never speak of this to anyone. If you do, I will come for you. I will destroy you. Then I will see you are committed to an asylum and spend whatever days that are left to you locked up with the insane. I am a duke, Ivy. You know it is within my power to do as I say.”

He saw fear fill the viscount’s face and Ivy visibly trembled.

“Nod if you understand. If you agree to my terms.”

Ivy nodded his head vigorously.

Without another word, Weston exited the vehicle, capturing Elise’s waist and bringing her out, as well. He slammed the door.

To the driver, he said, “Lord Ivy wishes to go home now. He is eager to return to Cumbria.”

The coachman said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

Weston slipped an arm about Elise and led her to their carriage. “Take us back to Lady Claire and my sister,” he ordered the driver.

Inside the carriage, Elise took his face in her hands. The rage that filled him seemed to disintegrate with her gentle touch.

“I love you,” she said and brushed her lips softly against his.

She broke the kiss and lifted one of his hands, battered from pummeling Ivy’s face.