The Duke Goes Down (The Duke Hunt #1) by Sophie Jordan

He didn’t move. He could not even summon the will to speak.

She glanced to the window as though assessing the time and pouted prettily. “I suppose you must go.” She sat up, holding the coverlet over her chest. Still modest. Even after everything. She looked shy for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ear as she murmured, “I will miss you.”

He didn’t have to harden his heart to resist her sweet charms. It was already hard. It felt like a stone in his chest. A dead thing. Cold and bloodless as a rock.

She must have finally sensed something was not right with him.

“Perry?” The pretty pout disappeared. “What is it? Is something amiss?”

He turned back to her desk and lifted the letter he had dropped as though it scalded him. He carried it over to her, not getting too close. He couldn’t get close to her. He dropped it in her lap and took several steps back. Distance was good. Necessary even.

She glanced from the paper to him curiously. Settling her gaze back on the paper, she picked it up, canting her head as she examined it.

It didn’t take long.

Recognition lit her eyes. The color drained from her face.

She lifted that big brown gaze of hers to his and slowly shook her head. “Please, Perry. I can explain—”

“Can you? That would be a neat trick.” He stabbed a finger at the damning parchment. “Can you explain that letter from some curate, confirming my birth date was in fact in January and not the month of May.”

“Perry . . .”

“You were the one. You! You outed me. You snooped and discovered the truth of my birth.”

“Not on purpose. When I took over my father’s book and ledger keeping, I uncovered a few inconsistencies and merely sought to update and organize his records. The previous vicar had handled all the records abysmally. I knew your birth date. I was at most of those celebrations.” She began stammering. “I—I simply wrote to the curate so that he could correct his records since he had the wrong birth date recorded. You must believe me.”

“Must I? Because you’ve been so honest up to now?”

“I did not know it would spur an investigation—”

“So you discovered the truth accidentally? You realize the distinction is not important.” He shrugged. “You made certain to alert the world of your discovery and ruin me.”

“No.” She pressed her fingers to the center of her forehead as if fighting off an aching head. “I did not! It was not like that.”

He shook his head. “You cannot even accept responsibility? You cannot admit the harm you’ve done me.”

She sat up straighter. “I did not mean to!”

“And yet you did,” he snapped. “You did. You took my life away.”

Her voice fell small, almost whisper-like. “I’m sorry, Perry. I can admit that. I am so sorry. God, you have no idea how sorry I am. I didn’t mean to, but it happened. And . . . isn’t a part of you glad to know? To have the truth out?”

He went hard as stone, seeing her then, seeing how little she truly cared for him—still.

“Glad? How could I ever be glad about any of this? You stole my birthright,” he said softly, perhaps unfairly, but the poison of her betrayal ran swiftly through his veins, the sting so hot that he could scarcely even think about what he was saying. “You must have hated me.” He shook his head. “Really truly hated me to do such a thing.”

She shook her head, too. “That had nothing to do with this. I didn’t like you. That is true, but then you didn’t like me either.”

“You’re correct. I didn’t.” There was a long pause, and then he added, lashing out, “And now I don’t again.”

She flinched. It was the barest flicker of emotion. The reaction passed over her face and vanished quickly. He didn’t miss it though, and he felt a stab of guilt and pain that he quickly shoved aside.

She had wronged him. She had destroyed his world.

He should feel no compunction over hurting her feelings.

“You should go.” She nodded toward her window. Her voice was thick, as though her mouth was stuffed full of cotton and he suspected she was holding back tears. “And never come back. Rest assured, I will be getting a lock.”

He nodded once in agreement. “Fear not. You don’t need one. I’ll never climb up your trellis again. There is nothing for me here.”

She watched him with bright wide eyes as he gathered up his jacket, slipping it on before he tugged on his boots. He moved to the window and opened it, peering out to make certain there was no one out and about in the morning. It would not do at all to be spotted climbing down from her window. He didn’t wish to be caught in a compromising position with a woman he wanted to be rid from his life. The last thing he wanted was to be coerced into matrimony with her—especially after they had just asserted their eternal acrimony for each other. That would be a nightmarish union.

He swung one leg over the sill, freezing when her voice cracked over the chamber.

“Oh, and Perry?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, arching an eyebrow in question.

“Good luck finding your heiress. You will need it.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. “Is that a threat? Do you intend to thwart me again? Is that what you are thinking?”