She stared at him from her bed. “I do not feel well enough to attend tonight’s ball, sir. Please extend my apologies to the Duke, who I am sure will understand once you inform him of my condition.”
Milton scowled. “Get up.”
She scowled back. “I do not feel well, sir.”
“I don’t care how youclaimto feel, wife. This is one engagement we must both attend, nor will I make excuses when you are perfectly well. You will dress this instant.”
She did not blink.
“Elizabeth, I will not hesitate to dress you myself, so I advise you?—"
Up she got, striding to her wardrobe to grab the first gown she saw. His loathsome tone reminded her of when they’d first courted. When he would approach her like a wolf primed to strike.
Perhaps they’d come full circle.
Sure enough, her husband barked more orders. “Choose a gown that suits my mother’s jewels.”
“I have decided to wear the diamonds instead.” She prayed he’d not react.
Milton grabbed her arm. “You will wear the stones I tell you to wear and you will match your dress accordingly, Elizabeth. Do not argue me this.”
She swallowed her emotion, for she must be honest if she wished to survive his wrath. “Milton, I am sorry, but I no longer have your mother’s gemstones.”
He dropped her arm in shock. “How do you not have the blue jasper?”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched.Not lapis lazuli, jasper!
“I let Bella pawn the necklace when she needed cash. You’d given me no pin money, and I thought the diamonds too valuable, so I?—”
“Youwhat?” His voice thundered.
“Milton, I am terribly sorry.” His indigo eyes had turned to flint, his face shrouded in darkness. Still, she must come clean. “Annabelle promised its return, and as I had nothing else of value to offer her … She planned to buy the necklace back, but then Harris stole her to Gretna, and when they returned Finch had stolen you, so …”
His lips became a thin, taut line.
“By the time she could visit the Lombard again, the necklace was gone, and the man would not say who’d bought it.”
Milton stared at the floor, inhaling so terribly slowly she feared he might cease altogether to breathe.
“Sir.” She bowed her head. “Had I known the stones were dear to you I would never have given them to Bella. I am truly sorry.”
He straightened his spine. “That was my mother’s necklace, Elizabeth. You knew that. It was the sole gift my father gave her, the stones a very rare blue color. She sold it when he abandoned her, and I spent years tracking it down to gain it back. She gaveme the necklace for you to wear as a family heirloom, to pass down someday to a daughter. It is no small thing you have lost.”
“Forgive me, Milton.” She meant it. “I never meant to?—”
“See to it you dress,” he told her coldly. “And do not wear the diamonds. If you cannot wear my mother’s necklace, you shall wear no ornament at all.”
His rebuke cut more than any rage he might have shown. She’d wounded him gravely, failed him by losing what she now understood was his very namesake.
Already, this night was a disaster.
Their carriage ride passed in stunning silence; the Baron did not so much as glance at Elizabeth, not once. Everything about his person exuded betrayal. Disgust.
Perhaps he’d hate her forever.
She did not want to attend this awful ball or meet Milton’s awful sire, the Duke. She was certain Lennox was his father, though she was not about to ask.
When they arrived at the Duke’s impressive residence, Milton stiffly took her arm. The entrance hall embodied old-world charm—the very opposite of her husband’s modern townhouse. Its dark, oak paneling and ornately carved flourishes breathed of history, legacy, and power. Elizabeth imagined it the very house young Mary Audrey had scrubbed and polished as a maid. Of course Milton would insist she attend; she’d been a coward to make excuses. It must be brutal for him to stand in his father’s home as guest only, never family.
