“But don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, Raph, I’m right about more than just balls and gowns. You should listen to me more often. I was right about Pamela, too. So it’s clear that I’m not just a pretty accessory for your arm.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. But the only way to ensure that everything goes as planned is through rules and control, Camelia. Without them, it’s chaos. And people who thrive in chaos are… dangerous.”
Camelia laughed softly, undeterred. “Control and rules are an illusion, Raph. A natural disaster could sweep away everything you’ve built: your rules, your schedules, and your high walls. You can’t hold back life itself with orders.”
Raph refused to think about losing everything he had worked so hard for. All his rules and schedules were there so that chaos would never break out. And they will remain in place despite the changes Camelia had made.
“I will think about that when I’m reminding you of who sets the rules,” he murmured, and she shivered as his breath tickled her skin.
“Is that a promise, Your Grace?” she asked breathlessly, smiling at a couple who danced past them.
“I guess we’d see once we’re alone.”
“Oh? But you’d have to catch me first, and I’m quicker than you think.” Camelia smirked. “But on a serious note, Raph. Sometimes you have to break the rules.”
“I disagree.”
“Of course you do,” Camelia sighed loudly.
“Camelia, if Pamela ever gets hurt because you decided to teach her that rules are meant to be broken, I will never forgive you.”
Camelia flinched as if his words reached out and slapped her across her face. “You believe I would intentionally hurt Pamela?”
“If you choose to teach her the wrong things, then yes, that is intentional in my eyes.”
She laughed humorlessly. “After everything, you still think so little of me?”
“It’s not about what I think of you, Camelia. It’s about the changes you made in Brentmere.”
“Did my way not help Pamela emerge from her shell?”
“It did.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“You’re changing everything, and it’s… not right.”
“Raph, your idea of right is suffocating to others. Did you ever think about that?”
Before Raph could retort, Lord Haverford, their host, approached them. His jovial voice cut through their whispered argument, halting them.
“Your Grace, may I steal your lovely Duchess for a moment? The ladies are eager to meet Brentmere’s new mistress.” He offered Camelia his arm with a smile, oblivious to the tension.
Camelia glared at Raph, then gave him a mocking smile. “Would you miss me too much, mydarlinghusband?”
“Oh my, isn’t she a delight?” Lord Haverford chuckled.
Raph’s jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly. “Go on, Duchess. Don’t keep Lord Haverford and the ladies waiting.”
Camelia turned away from him, but he watched her as she moved gracefully through the ballroom. Her crimson gown shimmered and stood out under the chandelier’s golden light. Each step made her a radiant rose amongst the thorns.
Whispers had swirled around them when they entered, and the ton buzzed with curiosity at her rare appearance.
Camelia’s absence from Society had left many gentlemen unacquainted with her allure, and now her presence stirred the room’s intrigue, ruffling the feathers of the elite. She was a vision, and he noticed how they all stared at her.
Raph withdrew to a shadowed corner, his brandy glass cool in his hand as his eyes locked on his wife, possessive and unyielding.
