Her Wicked Marquess (Sinful Wallflowers #2) - Stacy Reid Page 0,124

I am no longer interested in playing the long game. You will allow me whatever I will, for you will not be let off,” Nicolas said with chilling calmness.

A spasm of anguish raked across David’s face. “Is it a duel you want?”

“Most assuredly,” Nicolas said with lethal iciness. “We will meet in the fighting pits of the Asylum.”

“I’ll not win if we meet fist to fist,” David said tightly. “You are known for your bareknuckle skills.”

Nicolas smiled, and whatever David saw in his face, he blanched.

“Whether we meet with fists, rapiers, or pistols, you will not win. This will be a lesson…a punishment. I will leave you shamed, bloodied, broken, and it will not even be a fraction of what you deserve. When I am done, you will crawl from the pits on your belly like the snake you are; no one will help you, and it will take months abed to recover. That is your punishment—accept it with grace.”

David’s chest lifted on a harsh breath. “Who appointed you our judge?” he snapped furiously.

“Arianna’s pain,” Nicolas calmly said.

Before David could reply, there was a knock on the door, it opened, and Maryann stepped inside. His heart jolted. “What are you doing here?” Nicolas snapped, taking a step toward her. He did not want her around David at all.

She flushed, pain darkening her eyes. “We were going to send you a note but then I…I saw you come in here which is more private. I am dreadfully sorry for the intrusion, but there is someone here who wishes to speak with you, and it must not wait a second longer.”

Behind her, Nicolas spied her brother hovering in the doorway. “Leave now. I will speak with you another time.”

Instead of complying, the door opened wider, and a lady stepped inside the room.

“My God,” David cried, stumbling back.

Nicolas stared, his gaze moving over her black hair artfully piled atop her head, the vividness of her green eyes which glistened with unshed tears, the way her mouth trembled as if overwrought with emotions, and the tears that finally spilled onto pale cheeks.

A roar sounded in his head and he blinked, but she did not vanish. “Arianna?” he demanded gruffly.

“Oh, Nicolas!” A harsh sob tore from her and she hurtled across the room to fling herself into his arms.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Maryann almost cried out at that look of torment and profound relief on Nicolas’s face when he closed his hands around Arianna and returned her embrace. Maryann whirled away, hurrying down the hallway with such speed, it was as if she ran. It was impossible to stay and watch their reunion. The anguish tearing through her heart made her want to howl.

Unexpectedly, someone grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. She stumbled and with shock stared up at David. He must have dashed immediately after her. “Let me go,” Maryann hissed, appalled at the man’s gall.

“You are coming with me.” He dragged her quite violently, and she gripped her fan and smacked him across the face.

He whirled around, and his hand lifted to slap her.

“Do you dare?” Nicolas’s voice snapped through the hallway like an icy blast.

She glanced up, surprised to see him there. He must have left the room as soon as they did. He looked at her, and something unreadable touched his gaze for a fleeting moment.

Arianna spilled from the room, running toward them, her gaze only for Nicolas.

“Don’t you come closer,” David snarled, reaching into his pocket.

The cock of a pistol had Maryann’s heart lurching.

“Let her go,” Nicolas said, his eyes and tone calm and absolutely concentrated on his former friend.

Confusion rushed through Maryann. “What is going on?” she demanded shakily.

David dragged her with such strength, she pitched forward, a pain wrenching up her arm. They spilled inside the crowded ballroom, and Maryann slapped him again with her fan, uncaring of the scandal it would cause. A murmur swept through the throng as they drew the attention of several people.

David pushed her away and lifted his weapon to point it beyond her shoulder. She whirled around to see Nicolas and Arianna entering the ballroom. The spectacle of a man with a gun pointed on another gentleman soon swept the area, and even the orchestra stopped playing. The crowd parted, backing to the walls and exits away from the men. At least one lady swooned to the floor, but she was ignored as those remaining stared fascinated.

Neither David nor Nicolas seemed to care they were the recipients of so many avid stares.

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