Page 29 of Her Seven Nights with the Duke

She wasn’t so naïve that she didn’t know exactly what it was he wished to do to her. A part of her mind rebelled against the ideabut the other part of her wanted it. It’d been so long since she felt any form of excitement, and yet the Duke had managed to provide that for her in the two nights that they had met up.

Nora looked forward to the next night with him. She looked forward to what else he had planned for her and how they would spend their time once more.

A large bang sounded at her door, and she sat up with such speed that her head spun. She heard her mother on the other side, pleading and crying.

She got up from the bed and rushed to the door, her heart beating fast in a panic and her mouth open wide to ask her stepfather to stop.

Please, don’t hit her.

She pleaded silently over and over again as she rushed outside, following the commotion. She skidded to a stop when she saw the sight in front of her, her blood boiling in anger and hate.

“Mother,” she whispered, barely able to get the words past her tight throat.

Her mother lay there on the ground, a look of fear fixed on her face, her tears streaking her cheeks, as the Viscount tried to push her away.

Nora’s

Her hands balled into fists as her mother looked up at him, her hands grabbing onto his shoes as she tried to stop him from walking away from her. She hated it so much, how her mother, despite the Viscount treating her with so much hostility, continued to love him with all of her heart even amidst her fears.

Why can’t you see that he’s a monster and he’s no good for you?

Nora

She shook where she stood as the sight kept her rooted to the spot, unable to move as she regarded her mother with pity and the Viscount with so much hate. There was no one she’d ever hated as much as she hated him.

“Please don’t,” her mother begged, just as the Viscount raised a hand, slapping her hard across the face.

Her mother yelped in pain but continued holding onto him, her voice still pleading.

“Let go of me, woman, or you will regret it,” he threatened, raising his fist and ready to come down hard on her.

“Mother, what’s wrong?” Nora asked, finally regaining her voice. She burned with shame as her mother stared at her with a look of shock and desperation while the Viscount glared in her direction.

“You,” he spat, his face turning sour the moment he locked gazes with her. He pointed a finger at her as he tried to move in her direction, grunting in anger when her mother continued to hold him back.

Nora took a step back in fear as the Viscount’s hate and rage hit her where she stood.

“Begin to prepare yourself. You are leaving this estate,” he spat out angrily.

Nora’s knees buckled as the floor fell out from underneath her feet. She held herself up, managing a small “What?”

The Viscount snarled, his face turning red with barely controlled rage. “I gave you a simple instruction and time to carry it out. All you had to do was find a husband, but you’ve always been so useless, and you continue to be so even after all the chances I have given you.”

He advanced towards her, pulling her mother along with him. “I was generous to you, but you’ve spat in my face. Prepare to be out of this house as soon as possible, or I will toss you out myself. Believe me, it would be better if you do it yourself.”

Fear filled Nora at the Viscount’s threat. She knew well enough that he meant every word of what he was saying to her. He had never cared for her, after all.

Nora stared on helplessly at the Viscount and her mother, whose cries had grown louder with his statement. She knew her mother felt guilty, but it did not measure up to the guilt she felt herself. She had failed at the one task she should’ve been good at, which was protecting her mother.

“Mathilda and I have come to a decision, and you are going to leave sooner than I thought. So, prepare yourself and ensure that you’re packed up and ready to go.”

Nora shuddered as fear ripped through her.

I can’t go now, not yet. Not after I already found a way out of this.

“Please, Timothy. Please don’t send her away,” her mother pleaded once again, but the Viscount only stared at her with disgust.

“I suppose I have you to blame for how she has turned out. Look how you grovel at my feet for someone so undeserving of it. Even now, she doesn’t even try to plead for a few more days or promise to be better, and yet you beg for her. Pull yourself together, or else you’ll have yourself to blame for whatever happens,” the Viscount said angrily.

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