Rachel felt angered and insulted at the same time. Who did he think he was to infantilize her like this? She gently reached over and took it from him as she would not let herself be fed like a babe in front of dozens of eyes greedy for a scandal. He did not look pleased, but Rachel was not going to let herself be shamed.
“Thank you,” she said.
He had his own glass. “You’re welcome.”
Another dance was called, but Strathmore promised another to her before going off to speak with a group of lords at the sidelines of the dance floor. She went to find and sit by Jane while studiously ignoring the stares she continued to get.
“Are you all right?” Jane asked worriedly.
“No,” Rachel said. “I want to go home and feel the comfort I know is there.”
Both knew she was referring to William, and while she knew that Jane was not sure how deep their intimacy went, Rachel craved his company. His kisses and touch were dear to her heart, but even if she would never feel them again, his presence was soothing.
She flicked her fan out and sighed behind it. She had barely arrived, but the night already felt long and tiresome. If she were only half an hour in, and it felt like ten, how could she endure the rest of the next five hours?
Strathmore came back to claim another dance and spun her onto the dance floor. Even though he held her carefully, just being near him, Rachel found it hard to ignore the way her skin crawled as if a thousand worms were crawling all over her.
She managed to keep her composure through it all until supper was called. With relief, she went to the dining room with her arm looped over Strathmore’s.
The dining room was wide and grand, with dark paneled walls and a three-tiered crystal chandelier that flickered the light of beeswax candles through the room. Delicate bone china and crystal glasses sat on an eyelet lace tablecloth and Rachel sat directly across from Strathmore.
A thin, silver-haired woman, Lady Barlow was nervously fiddling with the beads on her turban quivering as she nodded with rapt attention at something Strathmore said. Just as her niece sitting beside her was. Tall, handsome, and wealthy, the Marquess had fair hair, sculpted cheekbones, and a patrician demeanor that undoubtedly drew attention to him, and he soaked it up.
Rachel kept silent while he spoke, not because she didn’t have much to say, but because her desire to speak was not there. Strathmore did not seem to mind that she had shrunk into the background and struck up a conversation with another lord at his side. This man had a goatee and spoke with a mocking drawl.
Whenever the man’s eyes landed on Rachel, his gaze was heavy, sardonic, and judgmental as if she were an oddity more situated for a travelling menagerie instead of seated at a dinner party.
The few words he’d spoken to her were ostensibly well-mannered yet filled with disdain, making Rachel feel uneasy. Strathmore did not seem to pick up on it and went on as if all were well.
Sadly, Rachel reached for her wineglass.Long night it is.
***
With relief, Rachel boarded Strathmore’s carriage as they headed home. It was nearly three in the morning, and she was almost dead on her feet. Strathmore had drunk a good five glasses of wine, and from the slurring in his speech, Rachel believed that he was intoxicated.
Jane was fast asleep on the seat behind them, and as they were travelling through London, the Marquess reached out for her. “Now that we’re engaged, how about we start on the intimacy early, hm?”
What?
Fear lanced through her as she caught the wild lascivious look in his eyes, and before she could utter a word, his lips came down hard on hers. Fright ran through her, clamping her lips tight. He tried to coax her to open to him, but Rachel pressed her lips firmer.
Finally, he pulled back. “As I suspected. You don’t know how to please a man. Do not worry, sweet. I will take extreme pleasure in teaching you. By the time I am done, a Cyprian will have nothing on you.”
Utterly repulsed, Rachel tried to shimmy away from him and managed to shove her body in the corner, a good two feet away from him. Thankfully, Strathmore slumped dead asleep against the far window, and only then did she react. Pressing her fingers to her lips, Rachel knew she would never live with him. If it cost her life, there would be no marriage.
When the carriage came to her gate, Rachel was desperate to get out. The footman opened the door, and she nearly fell out, only to be caught by the footman.
“My Lady?” he asked in alarm. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes,” she said. “I—must have lost my footing because I am so tired. I’m fine, thank you.”
He nodded and helped Jane out as well. Thankfully, Strathmore stayed asleep, and with relief, she and Jane hurried in while the carriage drove off. She barely made it to the rooms before she blurted, “That man is a nodcock. I will not marry him.”
Jane was confused. “I’m sorry?”
While yanking her coat away, Rachel said, “While you were sleeping, he tried to get me to kiss him. The nerve of him!”
“But—” Jane hesitated. “But what will you do?”
