“Very well. I was wrong.” The admission came out clipped, formal. “I misjudged the situation.”
“You misjudged me,” she corrected. “You assumed I was being petty or stubborn rather than protecting myself from people who proved they can’t be trusted.”
“And now?” His amber eyes fixed on hers with uncomfortable intensity. “What happens now?”
“Now, nothing changes.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “They made their choice eight years ago. I see no reason to pretend otherwise simply because I’ve married a duke.”
“No reason?” Hugo stepped closer, his voice dropping to that dangerous register she was learning to recognize. “Even though you’re no longer alone in facing them? Even though you now have resources they can’t ignore?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that you’re under my protection now.” His gaze held hers captive. “My duchess doesn’t hide from problems. She faces them.”
My Duchess.The possessive claim sent heat spiraling through her despite her irritation.
“So, this is about your reputation now?”
“This is about you learning that your problems are now my problems.” His voice brooked no argument. “I have a right to know what threatens your peace of mind.”
The words should have offended her. Instead, they sent an unwelcome thrill through her chest.
“I don’t need protection from my parents. I know how to handle them.”
“You ran away. That’s not handling it—that’s surrender.”
“Then what would you suggest, Your Grace?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “That I smile before the ton and pretend to be the dutiful daughter while they take credit for my success?”
“I suggest you remember what you are now.” His gaze fixed on hers with uncomfortable intensity. “You’re not their abandoned daughter anymore. You’re my wife. My Duchess. Act like it.”
“And what exactly does that entail?”
“It means you don’t let them see weakness. You don’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they can still hurt you.” He was closeenough now that she could see the gold flecks in his amber eyes. “You face them with your head high and remind them exactly what they lost when they chose reputation over their daughter.”
What they lost.The phrase hit something deep in her chest.
“You make it sound like a battle.”
“Most things are.” His mouth curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “The question is whether you’re going to fight or surrender.”
She studied his face, noting the sharp intelligence in his amber eyes, the stubborn set of his jaw. This was Hugo at his most ducal—commanding, protective, utterly certain of his own authority.
And utterly certain that his authority now extends to me.
“Very well,” she said finally. “We’ll face them. But I refuse to have private moments alone with them. No tearful reunions. No pretending that eight years of silence can be erased with polite conversation.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.
“And Duchess? Never keep information from me that affects this arrangement. I can’t protect what I don’t understand.”
Protect.There was that word again, spoken with such quiet conviction that she almost believed he meant it.
“This changes nothing between us,” she said firmly. “This is still a business arrangement.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” But something in his tone suggested he thought otherwise. “Now get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll need all your strength to show your parents exactly who they’re dealing with.”
Who they’re dealing with.Not their lost daughter but the Duchess of Vestiaire.
As Hugo moved toward the door, Sybil found herself calling after him.
