Page 58 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
Wilhelm’s smile widened, and a hint of ruthlessness flickered in his eyes.
“As I expected,” he scoffed, his voice tinged with arrogance. “I do have a soft spot for Shelton. His downfall will be… extraordinary.”
Kenneth nodded in agreement. “We expect it to be complete before the year is out,” he confirmed. “You know, your cunning never ceases to amaze me, Your Grace. It has most certainly exceeded my expectations. But we shouldn’t forget our other targets. Shelton deserves our focus, yes, but there are others we must attend to.”
He raised his head slightly. “I shall not rest until he pays for everything he has done.”
Wilhelm noticed how suddenly the marquess stilled and realized his tone might have been too icy. Even so, Kenneth knew very well what Alfred had done—he had experienced it too.
On some level, Gaverton knew what Wilhelm was going through.
“Still. I appreciate your praise… Kenneth,” Wilhelm added, his tone softer this time.
Kenneth nodded, his eyes gleaming. “You know I stand with you, Ravenshire? No matter what,” he said, his voice firm.
Wilhelm nodded. That was all he needed to do.
A comfortable silence settled between them, a shared understanding that spoke louder than words ever could.
They had been allies for a long time. Although Wilhelm would never call Kenneth his friend, he had come to rely on him and trust him.
Kenneth broke the amicable silence, glancing towards the door in anticipation of the evening’s festivities. “And now,” he declared, “shall we join the rest of the guests? I am eager to witness the relationship that you have allegedly cultivated with your lovely Duchess.”
Wilhelm offered him a lopsided smile. “Indeed,” he murmured, rising from his chair.
He paused, his gaze lingering on the portrait of his late mother.
“This gathering was Genevieve’s idea,” he confessed. “She wished to share our happiness with her friends. And with you, for some reason.” He smirked at the dig.
Kenneth’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Ah,” he laughed. “I never thought I would see the day when you succumbed to the charms of a woman, Your Grace. However beautiful she might be.”
“Do not mistake affection for weakness, Gaverton,” he retorted playfully. “I am still the same ruthless Duke that you have always known and loved.”
Kenneth’s grin widened. “Of course, of course,” he conceded, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
He clapped Wilhelm on the shoulder, his gesture one of camaraderie and heartfelt joy.
“I am truly happy for you, Your Grace,” he said, his voice sincere. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Wilhelm cleared his throat after a brief nod.
“Now, come along,” he urged, his voice regaining its usual authority. “Let us not keep our guests waiting.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Oh, they have finally arrived!” Genevieve announced as Wilhelm and Kenneth emerged from the shadows of the hallway, their figures illuminated by the soft candlelight that danced across the meticulously set table.
Wilhelm, his expression a careful mask of neutrality, greeted Marianne and Owen with a polite nod of his head.
“Lord and Lady Clowefield,” he acknowledged. “Welcome to Ravenshire.”
He gestured towards the elaborately laid table, its surface gleaming with polished silverware and crystal glasses.
“Shall we?” he prompted, his gaze sweeping over the assembled guests.
They settled into their chairs, which were fitted with plush velvet cushions that complemented the table setting and the décor. An awkward silence descended upon the group.
