Clara was no coward. She was not the meek thing that people assumed of her. She was simply cautious and aware of her own limitations, but that did not mean she was afraid to fight when the need was great. And at no time had it ever been greater.
“Clara… what are you doing?”
She had not even realized that she was walking in the opposite direction from her father. It was as if she were possessed, unable to control her actions. Common sense was a dangerous friend right now. She needed to get away from her father and Lord Ayles. What was more, she needed to make them understand that she could not go through with this marriage.
“I will be right back,” she said, her entire body shaking as the most dangerous of ideas came to mind.
Her father was truly a terrifying man. Perhaps the scariest she had ever known. Until tonight, she had assumed that no man in this world might frighten her as he did. But that was before she had seen the duke.
He was her salvation, even if he did not know it. And where it might not save her, it would at least give her a chance to… she could not even say! To escape? To breathe! To prove to herself as much as anything that she would not go without a fight.
She crossed the ballroom to where the duke was sitting. She could feel people watching her in shock and awe. The duke was none the wiser, looking in the opposite direction, a good thing, as that did not give him a chance to find her in the crowd and glare a warning that she best not do as she was about to.Too late to turn back now, anyhow.
“Ex – excuse me,” she stammered when she reached the duke.
He did not respond. In fact, he did not seem to hear her. Still, he looked in the opposite direction.
“Excuse me,” she spoke louder. That had him going stiff, tilting his head, and then slowly turning to find her standing before him. She withheld a gasp as their eyes met; his stare was so cold that it felt as if she had plunged headfirst into a pool of ice. “Might I have this seat…” She indicated the seat beside him.
He said nothing. Rather, he watched her with what might have been anger, might have been surprise—but might have also been curiosity. She could not tell.
“Thank you,” she said, taking his silence as a yes. “I do so appreciate it.” And then, having come this far, Clara sat herself down beside the Duke of Ravencourt.
Nothing was said between them. The tension was heavy. Suffocating, even. Clara tried to act relaxed, but it was impossible to do so. Not only did the mere presence of the duke make it feel as if she was seated beside a predator who was yet to decide if she was worth eating, but the attention this broughtfrom the guests of the ball was noticeable, almost loud, as if their bewildered stares screamed at her to run.
Her father especially wore a look of outright fury. Lord Ayles, too, his face turned pale white as he looked from her to her father for an explanation. But he did not come for her, nor did her father. Both stopped dead, careful not to get too close.This might be the first time I have seen my father afraid. I could get used to it.
“You are either very foolish or very bold,” the duke spoke suddenly without looking at her.
“Oh…” She glanced quickly, then looked away. “Perhaps it is both?”
“I did not say you could sit.”
“You did not deny me either,” she responded, her chin quivering, her good sense demanding that she run.
Finally, he turned to look at her. She stayed looking ahead, for she worried that if their eyes met, she might scream. “What do you want?”
“No – nothing.”
“Tell me.” He said, his voice low yet brimming with command. “And do not lie.”
She swallowed. “I needed someone who is scarier than my father. And you…” She tried for an awkward laugh, but it died on her tongue. “You certainly fit that description.”
Still looking ahead, trying to ignore the way people stared, she caught him surveying the scene before them as if trying to decide what he was going to do with her. “I take it your father is standing with Lord Ayles?”
“That is him.”
He scoffed. “You do not need me to scare away a worm such as that. And I will not be used in your games.”
“I do not intend to use you.” She was feeling more comfortable now. Still, the duke terrified her, but he was not aggressive or violent by her estimation. It was more his presence that was a concern, one she sensed he took great pride in. “All you need to do is sit there.” She chuckled. “Your warm and approachable mien is sure to do the rest.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
“N – no,” she stammered. “I just meant –”
“I know what you meant,” he spoke over her. His voice was not raised, but it did not need to be. “And I know why you are here. If you think that being seen with me is enough to deter a wretch such as Lord Ayles…” He curled his lip. “You are sadly mistaken.”
She sighed. “He means to marry me.”
