“Silver, welcome.”
Forcing her rigid shoulders to relax a bit, Silver reached the ballroom as Megan came toward her with a warm smile, looking exceptionally beautiful in lavender silk.
Megan grasped her icy hands. “Don’t look so terrified. Everything will be all right.”
“Ah, how wonderful it is to see you again, Silver,” Nicholas stated as he reached his wife’s side. Then he gave the most respectful bow Silver had ever witnessed, took her hand, and tenderly kissed the top.
A tight knot of emotion rose up her throat, and she could only whisper some sort of absurd response. God only knew why the duke and duchess were so nice to her, but she was incredibly grateful for the kindness.
After greeting the others who had arrived with Silver, Megan introduced her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Kenbrook. Somehow Silver managed a curtsey.
Leaving Silver in her parents’ company, Megan turned to her husband and grabbed his arm. “Come, Nicholas, we must talk.”
When they found an isolated alcove, she allowed the fury she had been suppressing to show. “How dare that man not escort his wife to her own debut! I don’t care what you have to do, Nicholas, I want you to find Daniel. Find him and bring him here.”
He lifted his hand and grazed her cheek. “Not to worry, love. I’ve been on it the moment Silver walked through the door without him.”
Megan relaxed and closed her eyes. “Oh, Nicholas, whatever would I do without you?”
She felt his warm, minty breath caress her lips. “That is something you really needn’t worry over,” he whispered, then closed the small distance separating them.
“Careful, you two, lest you forget what part of the house you’re occupying.”
Megan felt her cheeks heat when Nicholas broke off the kiss and turned. Lord Fielding stood before them with a sardonically raised brow. She very much wanted to box his ears, she did.
“Jeremy, your timing is, as always, about twenty yards off the mark,” Nicholas said.
“Actually, old friend, my timing couldn’t have been any better.”
Her husband sighed. “Have you found him?”
Snapping to attention, she realized he must be referring to Daniel.
Jeremy hesitated, then nodded.
That did not look good at all. “Where is that blasted man?” Her knuckles rose to her hips.
Instead of answering her question, Jeremy glanced to her husband. “Perhaps you and I should speak in private.”
She couldn’t believe her ears? Just as Megan opened her mouth to give the no-good cad what for, Nicholas shook his head. “Believe me, Jeremy, that wouldn’t do a bit of good.”
Megan folded her arms over her chest and nodded in agreement.
Pressing his lips together, Jeremy sighed. His expression turned grim. “Daniel will be arriving in a few minutes.”
She slid her arms down to her sides with relief.
“Where did you find him?” Nicholas asked.
“With Susanna Davenport.”
Silver almost smiled as she listened to Evie and Torie recite the disasters of their debuts. They made most of it up, surely, but it brought about a swell of happiness that they would go to such lengths in order to make her feel better.
Evie had just explained how the punch bowl happened to land on top of the dowager Countess of Langston’s head, turning the poor woman’s silvery locks pink, when a ripple of murmurs rang through the crowd. Silver saw everyone tip their heads up just as the under-butler made the announcement she hadn’t thought to hear.
“The Duke of Huntington.”
Her breath caught, and a hush swept through the room. All eyes swiveled in her direction, undoubtedly to assess her reaction. The air left her lungs as she observed Daniel take each step down the staircase. Even though he dressed in evening black as all the other men, he had to be the most handsome, and she smiled, near dizzy with relief that he had come after all. Perhaps he wouldn’t abandon her.
Daniel paused as he reached the polished marble floor of the ballroom and looked up. Silver’s heart leaped with hope, then plummeted to her toes. Her smile fled. His gaze had gone through her as though she didn’t even exist. And a small part of her died inside.
Gripping the sides of her dress, she was uncertain what to do. However, the years spent with her cruel aunt and uncle had taught her how to hide the hurt. And hide it well. She learned early that showing any form of weakness would entice them to even more cruelty. So Silver released the material from her fists, slid the blank expression she had perfected over the years into place, and turned her back on the sight of her insufferable husband. She did not look directly at those around her. Seeing pity in their eyes would be unbearable.
Evie placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Can I get you something to drink, Silver?”
She nodded absently, finding it difficult keep the mask in place. Searing, white-hot pain clawed up her chest, threatening to explode, and she had no idea what she’d say or do if it did.
The musicians began playing a waltz. People moved to the sides of the room and gawked. Terror struck, snatching the very breath from her body and made her weak. Standing there as Torie and her aunt moved back a few feet, she thought she might just swoon. The first dance had been reserved for her. Her and Daniel.
Jeremy rested a shoulder on one of the room’s columns and watched her for a minute. So this was the new Duchess of Huntington. Hmmmm. As an experienced connoisseur of women, he automatically inspected every detail, not surprised the horse-faced giant rumored throughout the ton did not exist. Indeed, this woman was quite beautiful.
Tall, but lush, her curves expertly revealed by the snug tailoring of the gown she wore, no doubt Madame Devereux’s creation. Her hair was glorious. Glossy red, striking against her pale skin. Flawless skin that glowed alabaster beneath the rich sapphire color of her gown.
Jeremy lifted his eyes to her face, targeting the sensual lushness of her lips. Then he took note of her expression. Expecting to see tears or anger as she stood there all alone, it amazed him to find such a deadpan expression. He had no idea what she thought or felt. A first, that.
The crowd nearest the duchess drew his attention. They snickered and sneered to each other, like vultures ready to pick her bones clean. And as the music continued on and Huntington made no move toward his wife, the snickers grew.
Jeremy narrowed his eyes and pushed away from the column. He walked directly up to the Duchess of Huntington, gave his most charming smile, and said, “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Silver focused on the man before her, grateful for the distraction. He stood a few inches taller than her with sandy blond hair and attractive eyes an interesting melding of green and gold.
“I am Jeremy Longwell, the Marquess of Fielding,” he continued, giving a bow. “And you are Sylvia Claiborne, the Duchess of Huntington.” He took her hand, slowly raised it to his lips, and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles.
Silver concealed her surprise, taken aback by the man’s cordial, if somewhat flirtatious, manner. “It’s good to meet you, my lord.”
He grinned. “I prefer Jeremy.”
Ignoring Torie’s gasp several feet away, Silver raised her chin, deciding she liked this man already. “Then you must call me Silver,” she said, her curiosity piqued. Perhaps an enemy of Daniel’s?
She most certainly hoped so.
Suddenly, an idea formed. An outrageous idea, to be sure. She squared her shoulders. She refused even a peek in the dowager duchess’ direction, certain the woman glared daggers at her. “It seems my dance partner has forgotten we were to dance,” she said, wondering if he would take the hint.
Surprise flared in his eyes, then his grin turned wolfish. “How terribly fortunate for me, my dear,” he said and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”
Chatter broke out from the crowd, then died back down to see if she would accept. That ignited a bit of her anger. How dare those idi
ots be so callous? She welcomed the slow burn as it spread throughout her body, helping to chase away the anguish of her husband’s appalling behavior. Curving her lips up, she inclined her head. “It will be my pleasure to dance with you.” She paused, her smile widening. “Jeremy.”
“Then, my pet, allow me to begin pleasuring you.”
Ignoring the choking noise coming from Torie’s direction, Silver took Jeremy’s arm.
Murmurs undulated through the crowd as he led her directly to the center of the room. She paid no attention to their rapt audience as she stepped into Jeremy’s arms for the waltz. Good thing she had used Torie’s dance instructor to brush up on the steps, she thought as the marquess pulled her close.
Starting on their second spin around the room, Silver heard whispers and gasps coming from the crowd. The music waned and Jeremy, gazing at something behind her, halted. He slowly withdrew his arms. She frowned as the violin’s last note echoed through the room, then turned around. Daniel stood there, arms crossed, eyes snapping in fury.
The bottom of her stomach fell away.
“Huntington,” Jeremy said at her side.
“Fielding,” Daniel clipped, his voice could freeze water. “I do believe this dance is mine.” He wrapped his long fingers around her arm. The contact shot through her whole body, making her heart race.
Jeremy gave a slight nod. “A pity you didn’t recall that a few minutes ago.”
Silver clenched her fists, vaguely aware the musicians had started the waltz again. Her anger no longer simmered, but heated right on up to a raging boil. She shook with the force of it. How dare the rotten man behave in such an inexcusable manner then expect her to dance with him?
“Go to the devil, Daniel, because I am not dancing with you,” she stated through clenched teeth then started to turn away. But he tightened his hold on her arm and pulled her back to him, bringing a stabbing pain to her injury. She couldn’t contain a whimper as she stumbled back into place. Just eight days ago, the wound had been stitched closed. It still hurt. And that he hadn’t cared enough to see how she fared in all that time elevated her rage.
“Not to worry, darling,” he said into her ear as he began leading her through the waltz, “you can return to your lovers just as soon as we finish this dance.”
Silver nearly lost her footing. She snapped her gaze from the grape-size diamond sparkling in the center of his cravat to his stoic face. Surely two minutes of dancing with Jeremy wouldn’t put that sort of idea into his head, would it?
“There is just one thing I wanted to say to you, the sole reason for this dance,” he continued in a low voice. “I will not claim another man’s by-blow as my heir.”
Silver blinked, absorbing his words, then narrowed her eyes. “Just what are you saying, Daniel?” she asked, hardly able to speak she was so furious.
A muscle leaped in his freshly shaven jaw. “You get with child, and I’ll divorce you in a trice.”
Somehow, she managed to keep her feet moving. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse between them, things would get worse. And in that instant, she wanted nothing above the ability to strike back, to return some of the gut-wrenching pain he had caused the last several weeks. Unfortunately, words were the only form of weapon available. “Worry not, husband, I’ll be careful. After all, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing the comforts that come with being the Duchess of Huntington,” she stated as the last chords of the waltz hummed in the air.
Giving no indication he had heard her, Daniel escorted her back to Prudence then turned and marched away. He didn’t look back.
“Pray, may I have this dance?”
Slowly, she turned to her brother-in-law. “Yes, of course,” she said numbly, then placed her hand on his arm.
Silver had no idea how she managed to keep herself together all night. Perhaps it was because Daniel had closed himself in the billiard room and hadn’t returned or maybe it was because of all of the support she received from her friends. She didn’t give one ripe fig for the rest of the people in the room, although she was grateful no one had given her the cut-direct. Of course, Jeremy had to point out that being cut dead at one’s own debut would be something of an anomaly. But not impossible.
After a few hours, however, the strain of keeping her tranquil façade began taking a toll. She needed just a little time alone. Seeking some fresh air after a dance with Nicholas, she slipped through the glass doors that led out to the terrace and breathed in the cool, night air. Unfortunately, her solace lasted only a minute.
Hearing someone approach, Silver turned. Standing against the far corner of the house, the shadows must conceal her, she thought. The two women gave no indication of seeing her there.
“Poor Huntington, trapped in an unhappy marriage.”
Silver’s stomach clenched.
“Yes,” the other snickered, “no wonder he already has a mistress.”
The words struck like a blow. A mistress? Daniel had a mistress? Her knees went weak, and she gripped the terrace rail to keep from falling.
“I watched him escort Susanna Davenport to the opera last week. You remember Susanna, she returned from India last year when her husband died.”
“Yes, Jane. I remember when Fredrick Davenport was forced to marry the chit when her father caught them together in the coat closet.”
Jane giggled. “Poor Davenport. That was unfortunate, especially since everyone knew Susanna was going to trap him into marriage.”
“And now it seems Huntington has suffered the same fate.”
Silver clamped a hand over her mouth, sickened by such despicable gossip.
After a brief silence, the two rattled on. “What do you know of Huntington’s new wife?”
She slowly removed her hand, her ears straining to catch every word.
“I heard she had to be locked away in some asylum for a time.”
“La, Jane, but did you know that she is also a thief?”
“No doubt she is a thief because she is addled,” Jane said. “It’s a shame Claremont and Kenbrook support her.”
“How do you suppose the chit managed to snare the duke?”
Silver gritted her teeth, growing angrier by the second.
“You know Kenbrook’s daughter broke the engagement to marry Claremont. Huntington’s pride must have caused him to wed the first thing to come his way.”
Silver bowed her head. Could the entire world see the truth?
“Too bad I wasn’t the first thing to come his way,” the other said with a giggle.
“Nor I. The duke is something to behold, even though he’s as frigid as his grandmother.”
“Ah, yes. The Ice Duchess.”
“A block of ice for a heart and no love to give.”
Fury mounted within Silver so fast, she shook. Enough of this nonsense, already! Before she thought twice, she stepped out from the shadows. “That is not only one of the most callous remarks I’ve ever heard, but one of the most absurd,” she said through gritted teeth, crossing her arms before the two astounded women. “The dowager Duchess of Huntington has more love for her grandchildren than any other grandmother I have ever met.” She took a step toward the cowering women. “And if I ever hear you call her names again, I’ll make certain you pay dearly for it.”
The two scurried back into the house.
Silver turned back to the garden and wrapped her arms around her body.
“Why did you just do that?”
Startled, she spun around. The dowager stood in the doorway, probably ready to throttle Silver for causing so much gossip. No doubt, the woman would blame her for tonight’s catastrophe. But she didn’t relish the idea of a verbal spar just now. She hadn’t the strength for it.
“My sincerest apologies, madam,” Silver stated, turning back to examine the geometric designs of the lit candles in the garden below. “It was not my intention to come here and besmirch the good name of your family.”
“Of that, I am certain. But
you needn’t apologize for something that is entirely my addlepated grandson’s fault.”
Startled yet again, she faced the dowager.
“Daniel’s behavior of late has been simply horrid.”
“Your grandson married me in haste, undoubtedly to soothe the pain of losing the lady he truly wanted to wed.” The words stuck in her throat. “His behavior merely reflects how much he regrets his rashness.”
The dowager pursed her lips. After a moment of silence she spoke, her words low and soft. “There is something I should have done a long time ago.”
Silver swallowed, wondering what was to come. She glanced beyond the woman’s shoulder. Perhaps she could dash by and—
“When you first arrived at Huntington, I believed you were a thief and sent you to the magistrate.” The elder lady clasped her hands together and bowed her head. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. I am sorry.”
Feeling her mouth drop open, Silver couldn’t speak for several seconds. Not until the dowager lifted her head revealed the earnestness in her eyes. “Of course I forgive you, madam.”
Inclining her head, the lady turned toward the door. “You may address me as Anne,” she said just before walking back into the ballroom.
Silver pressed her hands against her cheeks. Such unexpected turns in her life. She couldn’t go on like this much longer. But one thing had become clear. She let her hands fall down to her sides. A truce between her and Anne Claiborne had just been drawn.
Now, if she only knew what to do about her husband.
She would simply have to find a way to stop loving him.
****
Every muscle within his body trembled. The hunter threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. Several minutes passed before he could catch his breath. The air, filled with the musky scent of copulation tainted with blood’s sickly sweetness, made it difficult to draw in air.
He opened his eyes. Glancing around the bedchamber, his heart thundered in his chest. Thick, red liquid oozed down walls, had splattered over furniture, and dripped sporadically from the ceiling. He shivered, his gaze traveling to the bed. Covered in deep red rose petals, the mutilated body of a woman lay unclothed and bound on the crimson-soaked mattress. Pain and horror were etched on her lovely face as she stared at the ceiling with white-glazed, lifeless eyes.
Duchess Beware (Secrets & Scandals Book 2) Page 21
