Page 44 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

In the crisp silence that followed Herbert snorted. “My dear sister, please consider to whom you are speaking. One can accuse Lord Barnes of many things but surely you recall that one certainly cannot accuse him of the sin of sentimentality.”

Dudley bared his teeth and Elizabeth glanced quick and sharp at Stephen who was watching the affair with a dark expression, coiled to act should he need to, but it was the Duke of Seymour who spoke.

“I would never dare consider Lord Barnes sentimental, no matter what else he might be.”

“No indeed,” Herbert said with a quick fierce grin. “Perhaps it is not surprising he is as yet unwed, ladies do like a man to have some fellow feeling. Gentle creatures that they are.” He jolted again, and Elizabeth knew Selina had kicked him once more.

Seymour snorted. “I must say I am also not surprised by the matter.” He glanced at Selina, a knowing to his gaze. “But I’m not sure all ladies are so gentle, Lord Herbert.”

Herbert laughed and Selina looked the picture of modest perfection, but it was Dudley’s face that drew Elizabeth’s attention, Dudley and the dark wrath on his face as he glared between Herbert, the Duke of Seymour and her dear, beloved husband.

Dudley was not a man who could be safely embarrassed, not in private and certainly not in front of strangers.

“Selina, sister,” she said, projecting her voice across the conversations. “Please do tell me again about the large lizard fish that was found on the beach. I believe the guests will be delighted to hear about it, it took me so strangely when you told me!”

Selina beamed at her, distracted immediately and the conversation moved on, Selina and the Duke of Seymour delving into a conversation about large strange lizard bones and Herbert being distracted by Stephen and Diana. Elizabeth tried to shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

She was no longer the little girl she had been before. She had nothing to fear here. She was stronger, she was protected.

But even as she tried to once again attend to the conversation between Celia and Mr. Carter and Perceval, she noted how Dudley was holding his knife, knuckles white, point leaning towards Stephen.

As the dinner party wound down, as the brandies were poured and drunk and the men chatted about grouse and partridge and which they were most fond of shooting, Elizabeth felt a thrill of relief that her first dinner party was not just nearly over but had not been a complete disaster.

Mrs. Carter was a woman with a face that became bright red with joy and who had sparkling dark eyes that were stars in her face. She told Elizabeth and Celia a number of stories about her first parties held once she married Mr. Carter and Elizabeth had been surprised and delighted at how honest and funny they had been.

She rather suspected that Mrs. Carter had an inkling of her nerves and the kindness made her like the woman fiercely. Stephen sent her a little smile over the lady’s head, and she realized that he had known exactly the right people to invite to this party to limit the damages and to give her a buffer.

Stephen was discussing a political matter with some of the men and the others were slowly moving on towards the drawing room for last drinks before turning in. It was a hazy moment of pleasantries, softened by good food and wine and Elizabeth was feeling so sweetly happy looking at the profile of Stephen’s face as he talked animatedly about this great thing he was passionate about that she didn’t notice who was at her elbow until it was too late.

“Who knew you cleaned up so well, sister dear,” Dudley said lowly, his face shuttered in a way that she was not used to as he followed her gaze. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised that living with the enemies of your family agrees with you.”

“No one is an enemy here,” she said, hearing the old tremor entering her voice as cold ice flooded her blood. She could feel his presence like an old scar, a threat on her skin and she thought again ofStephenandAnnieandpoison. “Are we not all family, brother?”

“You were never real family, Elizabeth,” he said softly, looking at her. His eyes were almost black with malice. “You were an embarrassment to my mother and a trial to my father and you’ll be nothing to us when you are gone.”

A prickle of fear went down her spine and she glanced around, checking for her new family and where they were, if anyone could see how she was cornered, threatened - alone.

They were distracted, all of them. He had picked his timing well, like he always did. Always pinching her where the bruises wouldn’t show, always making sure no one was near to see him hurt her or destroy the things she loved, always hiding, always subtle, always secret.

All her life she had wanted someone to rescue her from him.

Elizabeth looked at her brother and in a flash of true anger saw him without the veil of fear that had been blinding her for years. This man. This horrible man who could not love, who could notcare about anyone, whose only way of showing affection was to hurt others, this petty little man had made her life miserable. He had turned her into a victim, a shrinking flower always looking elsewhere for salvation.

“Lord Barnes,” she said, her voice starting weak but strengthening as she saw the surprise in his face, the way his eyes flashed with confusion as he looked at her. “I will have you recall that our familiarity is not so great that I will allow you to speak to me this way. You may be a duke’s son and you may be half-blood related to myself, but I, sir, am aduchess. You will speak to me with respect.”

He snarled. “Or what will you do? What can you possibly do against me?”

“Perhaps you should consider what you could possibly do against me,” she retorted, leaning in to match him gaze for gaze. She was calm now, in the center of the storm of her rage. “After all,brother, you are in my house and you should wonder perhaps who it was who prepared the food you ate tonight.”

He blanched so pale, so quickly that she knew everything she had ever needed to know about his intentions for her and her husband.

It was a cold victory, but one that soothed a little child that she had once been. This was for her. This was for every version of her who had trembled at his words or refused to let him see her cry.

“Sleep well, Lord Barnes,” she said, turning on her heel and stalking to the door. “I know I shall. I am, after all in the bosom of my family, surrounded by people who care about me.” She turned her head a little, looked back at him, curved her lips into a knife of a smile. “I pity anyone sleeping in the camp of their enemies tonight.”

Elizabeth walked away. She was freer than she had ever been. As she crossed to the drawing room Celia and Selina called her over to hear some escapade Perceval had gotten up to and it tasted like victory.

CHAPTER 21

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