Page 8 of Duke of Pride

“Then you may inform me of the matterafterI have finished my work,” he retorted dryly.

“Gladly,” she said in a tone that said she would sit back and watch him being burned alive.

“Secondly, I expect the household to maintain a level of decorum befitting its master. That includes keeping unnecessary noise to a minimum. Lastly, there will be no social gatherings. No visits fromunwantedcompany. No unnecessary disturbances to the order of the household.”

“So, to summarize, lonely, boring, and quiet,” Victoria murmured.

“Precisely,” he said in a tone that conveyed that her sarcasm was not appreciated.

“Are those all the rules, then? Or shall we also be forbidden from laughing in your presence? Are we to be spanked if we don’t comply?”

A flash of something dark and hungry passed behind his eyes. Something devious and hot shot through her. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked at his mother instead.

Be thankful for the small things, Victoria.

“Mother,” he asked, “did I make myself clear?”

Dorothy nodded, the saddest look on her face. “Yes, dear,” she said quietly. “You have made yourself quite clear.”

Victoria felt the need to scream in his face that he had no right to come in after so long and ruining everything, but she knew that insufferable or not, Dorothy loved her son. And she missed him. To have him back after so long was a true gift, and she would pay any price for that.

That didn’t mean that Victoria would just sit back and see him treat his mother like a child, not even asking what she wanted or what made her happy. Victoria knew how hard the past years had been for her friend, and she wouldn’t allow anyone to force her back into her melancholy.

“Are my rules understood, Miss Victoria?”

Still, this was the Duke’s house, and he had every right to set the rules. Victoria was nothing but a guest, after all, and though his mother was the Dowager Duchess, he was the real master and he could question anyone’s presence. So Victoria did what was proper and beat a strategic retreat.

“Understood, Your Grace.”

His expression did not change, but his eyes—those sharp, stormy blue eyes—darkened. Victoria had expected contempt, irritation, and perhaps even triumph. But this? This was something else entirely. He picked up the gauntlet she had thrown, and he seemed determined. No, not determined. His look was deep, unreadable. Hungry. And she was the next meal.

The air between them tightened, stretched thin. Victoria’s pulse quickened, her breathing suddenly uneven, her body betraying her in ways she refused to acknowledge.

No.

This was a man she detested and could potentially grow to hate. She could not be this affected because he was just looking at her. But for a brief second, she thought that maybe she was the one who would regret this.

CHAPTER3

Library Nightgowns

To say that Victoria was livid would be an understatement. The rest of the day, she was simmering in a mix of irritation, annoyance, and righteous wrath.

Rules? He strode in here and dictated rules as if he were…

The master of the house, actually.

Regardless. He had no right to snuff all the joy out of this house.

Victoria still remembered how Dorothy had been when she first moved in. Closed off, never smiling, depressed, and given up on life, on herself. She looked older than she was—she had given up on her appearance and all will to live. Slowly, they found joy together, and Victoria was proud of how far her friend had come. And now to have her son deprive her of the simple joys…

But since there was nothing to be done—for now—regarding the Duke of Colborne, she thought it might prove productive to aim her anger at the main cause of this insufferable change in her daily life.

To that purpose, she took out her notebook to list ways she could get back at Lord Prevost without any suspicions coming back to her.

So far, she wrote,

-Train a pigeon to poop on his hat;

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