She dismissed the malevolent woman with a turn of her head.
“I must say, Miss Edwards, you are lovely. You have such unusual coloring for an American aristocrat. Is that a family trait?” Divinia’s cool look told her the woman’s simple curiosity masked a complicated inquisition.
Fucking inquisitions.
Words dripping with salt, Haven responded, “Yes, as far as I know.”
Her direct answer turned the other woman’s predatory smile into a sharp blade above her chin.
Haven turned up her face, narrowed her eyes, and planted her hands on her hips.
“I’m curious, Miss Kroger, how many Americans have you met? Met many of us, have you? So many that you’re acquainted with everyone’s family heritage? You must be exhausted from having to remember, and then disparage them for not having the same coloring as you.”
Her saccharine sweet smile dripped poison, and Divinia looked perfectly content to tear Haven’s eyes out.
Bring it, bitch.
“Do you have many friends in America, Miss Edwards?” Stepping closer, the cool blond leaned in. “I can’t believe anyone of upper-class relations would allow women of coarse manner and questionable parentage in their circles.”
Haven barely kept her jaw from hitting the floor. “My friends are my friends because we’ve been through a lot together. They don’t care what I say, how I say it, what I wear, where I go, or whether I eat my soup with the correct spoon.” God, she missed her down to earth, common, honest girls.
“Then your friends are just as worthless as you.”
Oh, no she didn’t!
She drew up to her full height, and stuck her finger into Divinia’s chest.
“You can say whatever you want about me, but you’d better learn your place when it comes to my friends. You don’t know them. Hell, you don’t even know me. I’ll let your ignorance slide this once because you shoved a stick up your ass a little too far this morning, and are spewing shit from your mouth.” Divinia gasped. “Keep your opinions about my friends to yourself, or you won’t like what this worthless American will do to your pretty face.” Threat issued, she turned to leave the hateful woman to wallow in her own malicious miasma.
She found her voice sooner than Haven expected. “How dare you speak to me with such irreverence? I am a Chosen Child,daughter of the Heavenly Sire, and I will not allow some inferior human dreck to treat me thus.”
Haven blinked. Red spots danced in her vision.
Chosen Child?
Heavenly Sire?
Is she serious?
She blew out a noisy breath, and rubbed her eyes before returning Divinia’s glare.
“What is your problem? Ever since the dinner party you’ve been an absolute bitch to me.”
Drawing to her full height, a few inches taller than Haven, Divinia peered down at her with unconcealed hatred.
Curling her lip, she hissed, “Leave the duke alone.”
Startled, the blood drained from Haven’s face, and a weight settled over her, shackling her limps. Paralyzed, and unable to shut out the hate, she listened as the bile spewing continued.
“You aren’t right for him, not worthy of him or his position as a peer of the realm. He deserves a wife, a duchess, who can elevate his standing in society, bring him power, connections, and a legacy that didn’t begin in the swamps of the Colonies.” Sliding her hands over her perfectly coiffed platinum hair, she smiled, her teeth barred in pride and conceit. “What can you give him?” She looked down her nose at Haven, her gaze telegraphing notes of pity and arrogance. “A pretty face, a barbed tongue, and loose American ties?”
Haven struggled to find an answer amid the strangling anger and clouds of uncertainty choking her mind. She trembled, anger and shock beat against her heart.
“You have nothing, youarenothing, and it’s better for you to step aside, to allow the duke to find his true equal. He is destined for more thanyou.”
Haven jerked back as if slapped, but finally found her voice.
“And what do you offer him? What could you give him that he could possibly want?”
