Page 116 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
There. Let those listening think she and Mother used Stoughton in their private lives. Father himself had bristled at the implication, which was more than enough incentive for the lie.
“And whydidyour mother raise you herself?” the Princess asked with a hum before turning away, as if the answer didn’t matter. Or as if she were deliberately riling Kit’s father. “I suspect you two have rather a lot to catch up on. Stroken, what was that business you wanted to discuss?”
When Thorne stepped aside with Princess Louise, a charming expression on his face, and Father stepped closer to Kit, she felt her blood slowly turn icy. The look of banked rage in her father’s expression was enough to send fear throughanyone, but Kit wasn’t going to allow it.
Instead, she matched it, lifting her chin and holding his gaze. “How kind of you to make it this evening, Father. What did you think?”
She meantof my music, but wasn’t entirely surprised when his lips curled with disgust. “I think your ridiculous display has not only embarrassed yourself, but completely humiliated me.”
Pretending surprise, she glanced down at herself. “Oh, you mean my suit? But this is how I always dress. Pockets, you know.”
“You forget it is mybusinessto know things,daughter.” He leaned closer. “I have had to pass quite a lot of money around, but I’ve learned all sorts of interesting things about your stay here at Stroken House.”
It was only by sheer force of will that Kit didn’t pale. “What do you mean?”
His grin turned cruel. “You didn’t arrive in London as Stroken’s guest. You were hired as a servant. Amaleservant. Hisvalet.” Father’s voice dropped to a hiss. “After this little game you played, I was planning on distancing myself from you, but whenthatnews makes the papers, and everyone realizes you’ve been Stroken’swhoreall these months, it’ll make it so much easier.”
Don’t let him see how harsh those words are. Kit felt her hands curling into fists, aching to strike out at him for everything he’d ever done to her and those she loved. “Distancingyourself, Father?” she managed lightly. “Don’t you mean,claiming everything I said was a lie, that you never really married Mother?” She shrugged, as if her heart weren’t pounding desperately in her chest. “But we have the certificate, you see.”
He reared back as if struck. “No you don’t! I have—” He bit off the words and studied her. “So that slut kept her word?”
Kit’s eyes widened slightly at the insult. “You mean yourwife?”
“She was anopera singer,” Father said in disgust, waving dismissively. “Everyone knows what they say about sopranos. I wanted her, and she—she was too high and mighty to agree.”
Suddenly, it all snapped into place. “She wouldn’t bed you until you married her,” Kit breathed, understanding dawning. “So you agreed, and then were stuck with us both.”
“I paid her well to keep her mouth shut about why I supported you.”
“You never supported us,” Kit snapped, “you merely sent us money.”
He scoffed. “As if you could have survived without—”
She cut him off by stepping closer. “Mother isworld-renowned, and I made my own name for myself.” She jabbed her finger in his chest. “And now that we know where the money came from which you sent us, we will—”
Kit never had a chance to announce what high-handed plans she had for his money, because between one breath and the next, her father reminded her that anger wasn’t enough.No, anger could get herintothese situations, but she needed training and skill and above all else,strength, to get out of them.
Father grabbed her finger and twisted, yanking her entire hand to one side and spinning her about. With anoof, she landed with her back against his chest, one of his arms pinning her to him, something harsh jabbing her under her jaw.
As he began to walk rapidly backward, causing Kit to stumble as he dragged her, she saw the frozen tableau before them.
Father hadn’t just been arguing with her; he’d been watching Thorne and had known when to act. Thorne had just finished handing a folio to Princess Louise; they both stood stock still, arms still extended, watching Father with horror.
No.
No.
Thorne was staring at her jaw, and as Father finally halted with his back to the door, Kit understood with a sinking certainty.
The hard metal pressed against the underside of her jaw was a barrel of a gun. A gun which her own father held on her.
Her eyes fluttered closed so she wouldn’t have to see the pained accusation in Thorne’s.
Oh Kit, you idiot.
“What are you doing, Father?” she hissed, trying not to move her mouth too much.
“I would suggest you shut up, Katherine.” He shifted until he could see Griffin on one side, who’d stepped in front of Bull, and Effinghell and Demon on the other, who’d both stepped forward with his movement. “My plans todisassociate myself with youhave just stepped up.”
