Page 32 of Duke of Pride

- Last night definitely happened.

Victoria decided that the best course of action was to attack the eggs on her plate. If she survived breakfast, she would be safe till dinner at least. He would go and lock himself up in his study for the whole day, or so she hoped.

“This is great news.” Dorothy was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Yes, how very kind of His Grace,” Victoria said, her voice sickly sweet.

Stephen finally decided to turn a page, making an exaggerated rustling sound as if the financial reports were fascinating. Victoria had the urge to feed him that newspaper instead of the apple pie on his plate.

“I have a great idea!” Dorothy clapped her hands suddenly.

Victoria seriously doubted that, and by the look Stephen gave his mother over his newspaper, he had the same thought as well.

“A house party!”

It is tiresome to be correct all the time.

“A house party?” Victoria managed to muster another fake smile.

“But it is an excellent opportunity. Annabelle won’t be able to travel once she gets heavier, and if Frederick invites a few of his friends, then you might meet some suitable gentlemen.”

For some reason, Victoria and Stephen exchanged an undecipherable glance before focusing on Dorothy.

“Mother, I do not think the house is ready to receive guests,” Stephen said in a clipped tone.

“Nonsense.” Dorothy waved a dismissive hand. “I have faith in our staff, and we will be ready in time. Right, Victoria?”

Victoria dared another glance at Stephen, who was giving her a look that said,Do not even dare.The newspaper in his hands had gone utterly still, his fingers rigid around the edges. The muscle in his jaw ticked again, a telltale sign of his fraying patience.

“Dorothy,” Victoria responded with a saccharine smile, “what a wonderful idea!”

Stephen’s nostrils flared. A sharp inhale of what could only be interpreted as exasperation.

This is just delicious.

“Perfect!” Dorothy was beside herself with joy. “Let’s start preparing the invitations.”

Victoria took a slow sip of her tea, looking at him over her cup. His jaw clenched so hard that she half-expected to hear his teeth crack. His eyes darkened in an open threat. She shivered.

He had warned her not to test him, and here she was, testing him. Pushing his limits. Deliberately.

The realization drizzled on her like dark honey.

What was this? Was she doing this just to vex him? Or did she want him to make good on his threat?

The question coiled low in her stomach, tightening her fingers around the cup.

“Come on, let’s write to Annabelle.” Dorothy got up to head for the drawing room.

* * *

The scratching of Victoria’s quill filled the drawing room. Sunlight shone on the writing desk, illuminating the cream-colored stationery with its embossed Colborne crest.

“Dearest Annabelle,” Victoria read aloud as she wrote.

“She is the Duchess of Heartwick,” Stephen commented. “That is not the proper way to address her.”

“You do not expect me to address her asYour Gracein private correspondence, do you?” Victoria bit out. “She also happens to be Dorothy’s daughter, your sister, and my best friend.”

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