“I did not ask, nor do I care.”
“I cannot marry him,” she said, ignoring his comment. No well-bred lady should be spilling her secrets to a stranger, but Clara wanted to pour them all out. Perhaps it was his brooding silence that did it? Perhaps his silence meant someone who might listen to her own voice? Or maybe it was that she saw in him someone whom she understood better than she should have. A loner. A social outcast.More to him than everyone believes…“But my father refuses to listen. He does not care that there is no chance of love or happiness or –”
The duke snorted. “Love? Love is a myth, girl. No… it is a trap. Best to be avoided at any cost. Perhaps your father is smarter than he seems.”
“That is not…” She turned now to look at him properly. “That is not true. I refuse to believe such a thing.”
“I do not care what you believe. It is a truth.”
“Is that…” She could not explain why the thought occurred to her.Or why I dare to ask it. Her heart was racing. Her body was shaking with fear. And yet, her dastardly tongue worked on its own accord. “Is that why you… What people say of you… is it –”
“Enough,” the duke growled, his posture turning stiff. “I do not care for your situation any more than I care to help you with it.You wish to be saved?” He scoffed and curled his lip. “I suggest you look somewhere else. I do not…” It was subtle, but his shoulders sagged slightly. “… I do not save people.”
“I…” She had no idea what to say.
“You were just leaving,” he finished for her. Again, he looked at her, only this time it was without his usual coldness. There was a fire behind his grey eyes; a warning that she had best run before it was too late.
And for once, Clara listened to her good sense, for it screamed at her to heed the warning as she should have done before sitting down.
“I am sorry to disturb you,” she said, standing quickly. “I… I wish you a pleasant evening.” The duke had gone back to ignoring her, and she was glad for it.
Her heart was still racing. Her body was still shaking. Caught between fear and curiosity, sensing half the ballroom watching her, she put her head down and headed for the balcony toward the back.I need to breathe! Some fresh air ought to do me good.
What she really needed was to question her sanity. Why had she thought sitting beside the Duke of Ravencourt had been a smart idea, and what had she hoped to gain? Nothing good, by her estimation. Then again, where her fate was concerned, what else was new?
Three
“Isuppose you think that you are clever?” From behind her, Clara heard a voice she did not recognize. But only one man would speak to her that way—like an errant hound or a childish scullion.
She gasped and then caught her breath. She tried to stop her body from shaking. Having adjourned to the balcony for some fresh air, she had found the cool breeze of the night a relief, for it did much to calm her, while slapping some reason into her senses also. Now, she wondered if being alone like this had been such a smart move.Not the first stupid thing I have done tonight, it seems.
“I do not know what you speak of,” she said without turning around. She stood at the balcony’s rail, looking across the garden, even with the cover of darkness cloaking it, it was still a beautiful sight to her eyes. Peace was what she found when watching it. A sense of freedom, as if it offered her an escape.
“Do not play me for a fool,” the voice hissed. “And do not think your little performance changes anything!”
Clara forced herself to turn and kept her composure as her eyes fell upon Lord Ayles. Alone. “Where is my father?”
“Do not concern yourself with him,” Lord Ayles hissed. He was an ugly man, both in temperament and physicality. Short and overweight, balding, with blotch-stained skin that made it look as if half his face was covered in birthmarks. "After tonight, it is I alone who should occupy your thoughts. And after what I have just witnessed…” His smile was malevolent. “It seems to me that you will require considerable discipline.”
“I…” Clara’s body was shaking from fear. And frustration, as nothing had changed, save angering the man whom she would soon wed. “I must go inside.”
“You will do no such thing.”
“Excuse me.” She put her head down to walk past Lord Ayles.
“I said no!” He snatched her arm suddenly. She gasped and then winced from the grip; it was too tight, his nails digging into her skin. “The impudence. The… the arrogance. If you know what is good for you, I suggest you learn quickly that such things will not be tolerated under my roof.”
“And if you know what is good for you, you will unhand her immediately.” The words were spoken softly, as if the wind had carried them from afar. But that did not undercut their power.
Lord Ayles’ eyes widened, and he spun about to find the duke standing by the doorway of the balcony. Dressed in black, he was nearly invisible in the shadow, yet that made little difference as an energy seemed to exist around him, demanding attention.
Clara gasped when she saw him.What is he doing here?
“Your Grace…” Lord Ayles stammered, his hand still gripping Clara. “This does not concern you.”
“That is where you are wrong.” The duke did not move. He did not raise his voice. “The moment you laid your hands on her, it became my concern.”
“She is my wife!”
