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

He gave her another shake by her hair, snarling at her. “Wot did I tell ye about disrespecting me?”

Valiant Teddy was not even close to giving up his defense of his mother. He started lashing out with his legs, kicking at his father. He landed one solid kick to the older man’s knee.

Mr. Henry howled and released his wife, clutching his leg. “Ye little bastard!” He raised a thick arm to strike his son, but Imogen dove in the way, covering the boy, shielding him with her body.

Pain exploded in her back, just below her shoulder. She cried out, arching against the impact.

“Pa!” Teddy looked over her shoulder with a stricken expression. “No! Don’t hurt her, Pa!”

Imogen clutched the boy tighter and braced herself for another blow.

It never came.

There was a loud grunt and scuffling behind her.

She cracked open one eye and then the next.

There was no pain radiating through her body. She was . . . fine. Unharmed.

Loosening her arms from Teddy, she peered around her—just in time to see Perry lowering his fists and standing over Mr. Henry who was writhing in agony on the ground. Clearly Perry had used those fists to knock the man down.

“Perry?” she whispered.

He looked like an avenging angel, his dark hair windblown, his gray eyes like a storm as his chest lifted high and deep on serrated breaths. His fists uncurled, relaxing at his sides as the threat subsided.

He moved from where he stood over the wretched man and crouched down beside her. “Imogen?” He brushed a hand down her face, his gaze assessing her, roaming over her body, searching for evidence of injury. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, motioning to Mrs. Henry. “She is the one who needs attention.”

Teddy and the other children surrounded Mrs. Henry. The constable and Mrs. Garry arrived in a wagon and joined the children to fuss over Mrs. Henry.

Perry didn’t leave Imogen’s side. Several minutes passed and he said, “She is well cared for now and you look quite pale.” He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Allow me to escort you home.”

“What are you doing here?” she demanded shakily.

“I came for you and spotted your frantic housekeeper. She told me where you had gone.”

Imogen watched as the constable shackled a foul-tempered Mr. Henry and secured him in the back of the wagon.

Mrs. Garry harangued them through it all, insisting they lock Mr. Henry away forever. “He’s a menace! Not just to his family, but the entire community. What would he have done to my Miss Bates if Mr. Butler had not arrived in time?”

“We will handle him, Mrs. Garry,” the constable gruffly assured her. “This is one time too many for his shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans,” Imogen murmured under her breath. It seemed a very insignificant word to describe the horribleness she had just witnessed. What would have happened if Teddy had not gone for help? If she had not arrived? If Perry had not?

Mrs. Garry helped Mrs. Henry and her children into the house. She looked back over her shoulder and called, “I will tend to Mrs. Henry here. Can you manage, Miss Imogen?”

Imogen opened her mouth, but before she could speak Perry called out, “I have her, Mrs. Garry. Fret not.”

Imogen looked at him sharply. “You have me?”

He stared back down at her. “Yes. I’ll escort you home.”

With a sniff, she started walking, trying not to wince at the tenderness in her back. “I can get home on my own.”

He fell in beside her. “But I’d rather walk you.”

She released a snort of laughter. “I thought you were angry at me, Mr. Butler.”

“It’s Perry. Or did you forget?”

How could she forget that? She fell silent as they continued through the tall grass. When they reached the fence, she stopped and gathered her skirts, ready to climb over. Before she realized his intent, he scooped her up in his arms and set her down on the other side of the fence.

“I’m capable of climbing a fence. I do it all the time.”

“But now you have me. I know you can do things, but you’ll have to forgive me for wanting to be there for you.”

She whirled around to face him, watching him as he vaulted the fence. “I do not have you. You despise me.”

“You do have me,” he immediately countered. “If you want me. And I don’t despise you. How could I? I’m in love with you.”

She stared at him in astonishment, searching for her voice. It took some time. “No,” she whispered hoarsely. She shook her head, reprimanding her heart to slow its sudden wild beating. “I destroyed your life, remember? I think that’s what you said.”

“That was badly done of me. I said many things I regret. Many things I didn’t mean. I was surprised, and I acted like an arse. Forgive me.”

She blinked in disbelief.

He went on, “It does not matter. Accident or not, I don’t even care. I’m not the duke, and I don’t care.”

Mystified, she shook her head. “Who even are you?”

“I’m the man in love with you.”

She staggered back a step. It was just as astonishing to hear that a second time. In love with me?

“Forgive me,” he said again. “Forgive me, Imogen.”