Page 74 of Only a Mistress Will Do

Lady Downing’s shriek rent the air.

The duchess’s eyes widened.

Dora paled until the only color left were two pink spots on her cheeks.

Scandalized, Violet hung her head, stifling a sob. Why would Tris shame her this way?

“By God, Trevor.” Lord Downing took a step toward him. “You cannot speak this way before my wife.”

“My pardon to Lady Downing, although I believe she has swooned again.”

The duchess glared at the figure lying supine on the daybed and sniffed. “Proceed young man.”

Tris’s lips trembled, with repressed laughter Violet would wager, the wretch. This was no laughing matter.

“My wedding day was approaching. I wanted to be able to control my baser urges when I lay with my wife for the first time.” Turning to Dora, he softened his gaze. “I didn’t want to hurt you or frighten you, my dear.”

Face as white as the plastered walls, Dora clenched her jaw and studied the gold and purple feathers on the duchess’s hat.

“So instead you terrorized this young woman.” Downing stabbed a finger at Violet.

The words hit like a blow. Cringing, trying to disappear within herself, she sobbed aloud. If only she could sell her soul this moment to be anywhere else in the world, she would do it gladly.

“No, I did not.”

That brought her head up with a jerk. Peering up at Tris, she recoiled at the stern set of his jaw, the demonic gaze he threw at Lord Downing.

“What do you mean?” Downing’s frown almost touched his nose. “You don’t think you terrorized her? She’s trembling there this very moment.”

Ducking behind Tris, she tried to make herself as small as possible.

“But not from fear of me.” He turned to her, stroked her cheek.

Soft as a kiss, his touch steadied her.

“When I found Miss Carlton in the House of Pleasure, I immediately noticed her reluctance. Her fear. So I asked her why she was there.” His gaze lingered on her face, his eyes pools of love. “She told me she had been kidnapped.”

Astounded by the lie, Violet sucked in a breath. What tale was Tris concocting now?

“The devil you say.” Lord Downing staggered back.

“My word.” Raising her quizzing glass, the duchess peered at Violet anew.

Dora stared at her, white-faced and speechless.

“Don’t believe a word of it.” Harper stepped forward, still rubbing his jaw. “She was a whore who spun him a story, nothing more. Madame Vestry probably told her what to say, in order to make more money.”

“Indeed, she was not, Mr. Harper.” Tris’s eyes glittered and his fist tightened. “I will have a word to speak with you directly, never fear.” Slowly he returned his attention to Lord Downing. “This sort of unfortunate occurrence has happed there before. If you doubt my word, I suggest you call upon the Marquess of Dalbury and ask him.”

The elder man sputtered and backed away, a hand outstretched. “Dalbury, you say? Dalbury has experienced such a thing before?

“Ask him.”

“Oh, no, no. That will not be necessary. I take your word on that, Trevor. No need to bring Dalbury into this at all.” Sweat popped out on Lord Downing’s lined brow.

Puzzled, Violet glanced from one man to the other. Tris’s satisfied smirk startled her.

“Yes, I expect you wanted no further dealings with the marquess.” Tris stared pointedly at Harper, who refused to meet his eyes.