Page 62 of Her Tiger of a Duke
She pointed at the gown with the hand holding her glass, and Beatrice wondered just what was in the glass and how many she had had.
“I thought of trees,” she said simply. “There is a forest on the estate, and the trees there are so beautiful. They are dense and dark and emerald green, and I can only imagine how they shall look in winter when they are covered in snow. And so, I wished to have my gown look like that.”
“Oh, and the lace is the snow!” another lady squeaked. “Truly, it is a marvel.”
“And it would have been perfect had the ball been your own,” Lady Pembroke continued. “But it is not a good thing to upstage the host. Perhaps, had you cared for etiquette, you might have known that. Then again, you have a penchant for taking things which are not yours.”
Owen bristled beside her, and at last he stepped forward, brushing her side.
“How strange, Lady Pembroke,” he said in a calm voice that made everyone silent in an instant. “For one that enjoys etiquette so much, you might think that you would know how to conduct yourself around others.”
“It is not my fault that your wife has behaved so brazenly. Someone must hold her accountable.”
“And why, pray tell, should that person be you? If I recall correctly, your marriage to your own husband was born of scandal, something far worse than my wife has ever done.”
Lady Pembroke turned scarlet, and Beatrice wondered just what Owen knew that he had not told her.
“Your Grace, that is most inappropriate.”
“And yet, you think it is wise to do the same to a duchess. Why is that, I wonder? It will do you well to remember that only those without fault may judge others, lest you too be judged.”
Lady Pembroke tightened her grip on her glass, her perfect smile faltering.
“I am more than capable of making my own judgments, thank you,” she replied. “I would expect you to make such judgments before choosing a wife, but of course we only know the truth about her because she is your wife, and therefore with a title.”
The comment about her parentage stung, but Owen remained unfazed.
“And do you know who else has such titles?” he asked. “The Dukes of Lupton, Urkinshire, and Pridefield. Their wives are good friends of mine, and I have it on good authority that they plan to host events soon. Should you want me to tell them how you have spoken to my wife, I will gladly do so.”
With a scowl, Lady Pembroke took her leave. Beatrice could hardly breathe, let alone speak, but the others around her were more than eager to do it for her.
“Now that I think of it,” one lady said in thought, “how exactly did they meet?”
“They were found alone in a library together at a ball,” another replied. “I remember the scandal now! It was so long ago that she must have thought it was forgotten.”
“Except it was not,” Owen agreed. “I know more than one might expect, and I will never let someone like her speak out of turn to my wife.”
“Of course not, Your Grace.”
Owen left the ladies, and at once they all practically swooned at how he had been. Beatrice had been grateful, but she wished she had been able to handle it herself without needing her husband. She wanted to be strong like him.
“He is a wonderful husband,” one lady sighed. “If only mine defended me like that.”
“He must so adore you. It is just as you said. The two of you loved one another far too much for you to allow him to marry someone else.”
Beatrice smiled and nodded in agreement, but in truth she did not know why Owen had defended her so vehemently. It was not out of love or adoration, for he did not love or adore her, but it was the perfect way to prove a point to the others.
Perhaps that was why he had done it?
She looked around the room for him and saw him speaking with Lord Pembroke. They both had a solemn expression, and Beatrice could not bear to think what they were saying. She did not need it all to go too far; Lady Pembroke had been taught a lesson, and that was all that needed to be done.
The music for the next dance began, and when Owen returned to them Beatrice wondered if that was because he wished to dance with her again. Instead, when she took his arm, he bent down to whisper in her ear.
“We are going to the gardens for a moment,” he said.
She did not argue, following him outside. Once there, Beatrice relished the cold air against her warm face. It had all been farmore intense than she had anticipated, and it was not what she had wanted at all.
“I assume you have told Lord Pembroke what happened?” she asked.
