Page 27 of Duke of Pride

“Only Lady Weatherby.” She shrugged. “But she’s buried three husbands. I think she’s earned a vice or two.”

“That is not the point!”

“Then what is the point, Stephen?”

The use of his name, the way she breathlessly uttered it—stripped of his title, of decorum—made something dark coil low in his stomach. The way she demanded an answer from him, not the Duke of Colborne. His jaw tightened.

“The point,Victoria,” he bit out, returning the favor, “is that this is my home. And I will not have you turning it into a?—”

“A place of joy?” She dropped all fake mockery, raising her voice. “A place where your own mother can laugh and live instead of being trapped in this suffocating mausoleum you call a home?”

Mausoleum, the same thing he called that dreadfully sad room at Lord Prevost’s house. Something inside him shattered a little.

“It is not a mausoleum,” he said, with less conviction in his voice.

“Please. This house is colder thanyouare, which is truly saying something.”

That stirred something that Stephen had never known was there. He decided to focus on his rage—it was simpler, cleaner. They were locked in a death stare match, with no one backing down.

For the millionth time ever since he had first laid eyes on her, Stephen decided that he had to get Victoria out of his house and out of his head.

Easier said than done.

CHAPTER8

Consequences

Victoria was ready to murder someone. Not just anyone, but him. How dare he stroll in and just kick Dorothy’s friends out?

Stephen had ruined a perfectly lovely evening, one where Dorothy had truly laughed, truly enjoyed herself. And for what? Because he was incapable of letting anyone have fun under his rigid, joyless rule?

“Victoria,” he rasped, “I do not appreciate this tone in my house.”

“I am starting to think that there are very few things you appreciate.”

“Victoria!”

“Stephen!”

She could barely see straight through her fury. When she arranged for the ladies to come, it wasn’t just to vex him, to break his rules. It was for Dorothy. Victoria would be gone in less than a month, and it pained her to think that Dorothy would be again left with no one.

“Youwillapologize, and you willnotrepeat this,” Stephen ordered.

“I am not ready to make such a promise. Dorothy, your mother, has been locked away in mourning, alone and miserable, and you’re determined to keep her there! And for what? Some misguided sense of duty? Because Lord Prevost would disapprove?”

He straightened his back and looked away. At least he was listening. She knew that he was considering,reallyconsidering, the truth of her words.

“This is not proper behavior,” Stephen said, looking over her shoulder. “Not for my mother, and certainly not for you. Even chaperoned, if word got out that you were indulging in?—”

“So, now you are worried aboutmyreputation?” Victoria let out a sardonic laugh. “Why would you care? I am known to be brazen and improper and a thousand other names that I am sure you have called me behind my back. Not areallady.”

She expected a silent confirmation of her words. He was too much of a stickler for propriety to insult her so blatantly without provocation. Still, she saw a hint of regret. Before he wore that air of authority again.

“You are under my roof, undermy—” He broke off. “My family’s protection.”

“Being protected from actually living or having fun, that is correct. Still, why do you even care about my conduct? You’re sending me away in a month. What does it matter to you what I do in the meantime?”

Stephen ran his hand through his hair, frustrated that he was troubling himself with her. Victoria followed that gesture with an unwelcome intensity. There was something alluring about seeing him run his long fingers through his luscious hair, his impossibly blue eyes fixed on her, the way his clothes hugged his muscles, the way?—

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