Rachel should have known Letitia would not leave without one last strike.
“Oh, Rachel,” Letitia sighed dramatically, glancing between her sister and the duke, “I have just realized I never had theopportunity tocongratulateyou properly on your remarkable achievement.”
Rachel stiffened but forced a pleasant smile. She had almost forgotten how overbearing Letitia could be.
“How kind of you, Letitia. And what achievement, pray tell, would that be?”
Letitia smiled, “Why, securing your marriage to His Grace, of course,” she said, stretching each word. “Quite the achievement, isn’t it? A maid’s daughter made a duchess. I can only imagine how much you struggled to get there.”
Rachel did not rise to the bait, but her jaw clenched.
“It really is a dream come true for someone of your standing.”
Simon, who had been silent until then, shifted. His head moved slightly in Letitia’s direction.
Rachel maintained a loose posture and met Letitia’s smug look head-on. “No more difficult than your own aspirations, I suppose,” she said coolly. “The only difference is that I succeeded.”
Letitia’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, long enough to gratify something deep within Rachel, but the woman regained her composure swiftly.
“Good heavens, no,” Letitia laughed. “I would never deign to tell falsehoods about a man I’d never even laid eyes upon. Then again, not everyone has the luxury of being able to play fairly, now do we?”
Rachel’s heart sank.
She’d expected her to be cruel—she always did when it came to Letitia—but this was far worse.
Rachel didn’t blink, but her gut knotted with fear. She could sense the heaviness of Simon’s body next to hers and couldn’t help but wonder—what was going throughhismind? Was he doubting everything now? Wondering if the gossip had been some kind of trap?
She made herself glance at him. But when her gaze landed on his face, she saw that he wasn’t gazing back at her.
His eyes were on Letitia.
“I would be careful, Miss Letitia,” Simon told her. “You speak confidently of things you know very little about.”
Letitia’s lips parted, barely. She wasn’t accustomed to being addressed in this manner—certainly not by a duke. The smugness went out of her face.
“I only meant?—”
“What youmeantwas to insult your sister under the guise of civility. Do not mistake me for a fool—I recognize a veiled attack when I hear one.”
Letitia straightened her shoulders, her mouth tightening into something dangerously close to a pout. “I merely wished to state the facts.”
“The facts,” Simon repeated, his tone flat. “Here is a fact for you, Miss Letitia—I do not tolerate disrespect toward my wife. Not from anyone. Andespeciallynot from you.”
Letitia’s face reddened, and for once, she found herself at a loss for words.
Christopher, who had been pretending to take great interest in his drink, finally decided it was time to intervene.
“Now, Your Grace,” he began, “Letitia surely meant no offense. It was merely an observation.”
“If Miss Letitia cannot conduct herself with the respect befitting a guest in my home, then she is no longer welcome in it.”
It was a threatand not one that was even thinly concealed. The weight of Simon’s words hung heavily in the air, the implication clear.
Rachel had spent her life being belittled in her father’s house, treated as lesser simply because she had the misfortune of beingborn to the wrong mother. She had endured Letitia’s cruelty with patience, knowing she could never fight back without consequence.
But this? This was the first timeanyonehad ever defended her so directly.
Simon did not raise his voice. He did not make a scene, as his delivery was much more subtle. He had made it clear that she mattered.
