Norman leaned in closer, his voice a blade.
“Are we clear?”
She looked at him.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “We’re clear.”
Norman stared a moment longer, searching her expression for anything false, any flicker of defiance.
Then he turned and walked to the window, dragging a hand down his face.
The sunlight pooled across the floor like spilled honey, warm and soft, a bitter contrast to the heat that still pulsed through his skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about Kitty. Her eyes. The way her hand had curled inward as if to protect herself.
And that bastard Grewin’s breath, his voice, anywherenearher?—
He braced both hands against the windowsill and bowed his head.
God, he had failed her. Again.
Behind him, Lady Mulberry sniffled dramatically and muttered something under her breath about being “deeply misunderstood.” He didn’t respond. She wasn’t the one he was worried about.
He turned fully to her, arms crossed. “You’ll apologize to her. Sincerely. And you’ll keep your nose out of my affairs. Out ofouraffairs.”
She nodded mutely.
“And next time I host a dinner,” Norman added darkly, “you will run the guest list by me. Do you understand?”
Another nod.
“Say it.”
“I understand,” she whispered.
And with that, he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
Twenty
Kitty barely made it up the stairs before the tremble in her hands gave way to a full-bodied shiver. She pressed the heel of her palm to her chest, willing the thunder of her heartbeat to slow as she reached her door. The familiar handle felt cold beneath her fingers, the brass smooth and ordinary against a world that no longer was.
Inside, she closed the door behind her with a softclickand leaned against it, eyes fluttering shut. The quiet of the room wrapped around her like a shawl, soothing in its stillness but unable to erase the sharp memory of Grewin—his voice and all the vile things he had said to her. The way he had said her name, with such easy cruelty tucked beneath the layers of velvet charm. How no one—no one—except Norman, seemed to understand the danger Lady Mulberry put her in by inviting him.
Kitty’s spine prickled at the memory. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
But then—Norman.
Her heart gave a hesitant flutter. He had stood up for her. Without hesitation, or doubt, going against his own family to protect her from him. The room had gone silent the moment his voice cut through it, as commanding as it had been furious. She had never seen him so angry—especially not on her behalf.
That look in his eyes when he turned toward Lady Mulberry, and then toward Grewin—protective. Claiming. She had never anticipated this kind of reaction from him—hadn’t prepared for how it would unravel her. The terror Grewin had ignited within her still clung to her bones, yet Norman’s response... it did something dangerous to her composure. Against all reason, it made her feel almost... almost loved.
She moved across the room with slow, deliberate steps, crossing to the vanity. Her reflection met her in the mirror, pale and sharp-eyed.
“You’re all right,” she whispered to herself. “You’re all right.”
And she was. She had survived it. Again. Because of Norman. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation she would have gone through if it wasn’t for him—his claim over her, his anger, his protectiveness?—
A knock on the door broke through her thoughts.
