Page 10 of Duke of Pride

“My dear,” she began, her tone careful but affectionate. “I do hope you won’t let Stephen’s behavior sour things between you.”

Victoria arched an eyebrow, chewing her biscuit slowly.

Too late.

Dorothy, ever perceptive, must have read the thought in her expression because she gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

“Yes, he was dreadfully rude. But you must understand. He has been raised to guard his family name above all else. That kind of expectation… it’s difficult to shake, even when one wishes to.”

Victoria took a sip of tea, considering that.

Did His Grace wish to?

He certainly hadn’t seemed particularly troubled by his arrogance last night. But then her gaze flicked to Dorothy, to the way her smile dimmed just slightly at the edges, as if she had learned to make peace with things she wished were different.

Victoria had long suspected that Stephen’s rigid ways did not bring his mother much happiness. But Dorothy, being Dorothy, merely waved a hand and dismissed the thought before it could settle.

“It’s in his nature to be protective,” she said lightly, picking up her book again. “Even if that protection sometimes feels a bit too much.”

Victoria frowned at that, but Dorothy had already returned her attention to the page before her, effectively ending the conversation.

She could not ask her friend to rebel against her own child, she understood as much. Especially when Dorothy thought she had lost him and now he was back. So Victoria kept the rest of the evening as light as she could.

“Thank you for today,” she said when it was time for Dorothy to retire.

Instead of answering, Dorothy pulled her in her embrace. Victoria closed her eyes in delight and returned the hug.

“Have a good night.”

Victoria tried to make that last wish a reality and finally sleep. She went through her routine, hoping that the familiarity would bring slumber. Alas, even exhausted as she was because she didn’t sleep the night before, her body refused to relax.

The day had been perfectly pleasant, all things considered. Dorothy had made sure of that. But now, alone in the silence of the night, her mind wandered back tohim. To his sharp words, his infuriating presence, the way he had looked at her like she was a problem to be solved, or worse, an inconvenience to be removed.

How dare he?

And yet she swallowed all his insults about her all day.

She was used to the ton looking down on her family even before her brother inherited his title after a tragic turn of events. She cared about that. She Wouldn’t lose her precious sleep for two days in a row because of the most irritating man in existence.

But to sit back and watch him judge Dorothy? Take the few joys she had left, whenheleft her in her solitude?

“Blast it!”

With an exasperated groan, she threw off her blankets and slipped out of bed. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well do something more productive than thinking about the Duke of Colborne. So, she got out of her room and made her way to the library.

Reading was her favorite thing in the world, and she was sure that a good book would at least ease her mind and take any dark thoughts away. Unless she found a book titledHow To Kill A Duke and Get Away With It: A Beginner’s Guidethere. Which she hoped she did.

But her luck was abysmal and horrible. The moment she entered the library, she realized that it was already occupied. In the glowing light from the fireplace, sitting on an armchair, a book on his lap and a glass of brandy absentmindedly in his hand, washim.

“Oh,” was the only thing that came to mind the moment she realized she was not alone.

The golden glow of the fire illuminated his face, casting shadows over his chiseled features. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his shirt was open at the collar, the top few buttons undone.

Wearing cravats should be mandatory at all hours of the day!

Victoria’s eyes flicked to his collarbone once more. He looked comfortable but not at ease. There was a tension in the set of his shoulders, in the way he swirled his drink idly but did not sip it.

The house must have more than twenty-five rooms—she had never bothered to count them—yet somehow it seemed in the after-hours, out of all the rooms, they ended up in the same one. The probability of that happening was small if she were to go by sheer numbers, but here they were.

---