Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,41
still had value. For Lily’s sake it did, at least. And someday, eventually, Charles would return. England was his home.
“Escaping them, are you?”
She startled at the voice and turned to see Kevin’s cousin Philip coming up the stairs from the garden. The dining room had doors that opened onto another terrace down there. He appeared to be walking awkwardly, as if he did not trust his balance.
His face showed the remains of the boyishness that lingered in a man until well into his twenties. He wore an ugly waistcoat and a tight frock coat such as young bloods around Town might sport.
“I just needed some air,” she said.
“I’m sure you did.” He sauntered over. “Have they been polite, at least? Or eager to demean you further?” He smiled so broadly she could see his teeth in the moonlight. “If Aunt Dolores did not hold back, I doubt the others did.”
His proximity did not give her a way to avoid conversation. She wished he had not intruded. “They were polite enough. As for your Aunt Dolores, she did not join us.”
“I expect not, after that spectacle. Just as well. She is the sort to ask rude questions of you because she thinks the social niceties do not apply to her inferiors.”
There was nothing to say to that.
He cocked his head and considered her. “Odd that there were no more questions once the ladies had you alone. Hell knows the rest of us have some.”
He kept shifting his weight and balance. Each time he did, it seemed he came a bit closer. He was foxed. Thoroughly drunk.
“There were a few questions. Not many.”
“Negligent of them. That’s their job, isn’t it? To ferret out information?” He peered at her. “Maybe your appearance surprised them and put them off. You are not what was expected. Don’t look like a poor tradeswoman, do you?”
“Perhaps that is because I no longer be poor.”
As soon as she said it, she knew it had been a mistake, and not just grammatically. A sneer absorbed his smile. “No, you aren’t. A man half mad left you much of his fortune and let his own blood go without.” His eyes brightened dangerously. “Seeing you tonight, I knew at once how it was. How you managed that.”
“I managed nothing.”
“Complete surprise, was it? Don’t make me laugh.” He leaned toward her, and she smelled the port and other spirits on his breath. “You must be very good. Hell, you are probably the most expensive whore in England, so your skill should be unsurpassed.”
The urge to slap that leering face almost overcame her. She drew herself straight and took a step back. “You are too much into your cups and talking too freely. I will not stay here and be insulted by such as you.” She turned on her heel, toward the drawing room doors.
A firm grip on her arm stopped her. “Such as me? Who in hell do you think you are, putting on airs? We both know what you are.” He yanked her back and imprisoned her in his arms. “I’ve a mind to have a taste, to see what made him favor you so much.”
She pushed against him, hard, but it did not loosen his hold. She ordered him to stop. She squirmed so the kiss he aimed for her lips landed on her headdress. He grabbed at her breast and she kicked his legs, hoping he would go down. He let out a high-pitched, gloating laugh and grabbed the back of her head roughly with one hand. He tried to kiss her again.
She turned her head and bit that hand. He cursed, then swung a hard slap at her that snapped her head back. For a second, all she saw was the sky and stars while the shock of pain stunned her.
Then he was gone. She was free. She staggered and grabbed the balustrade. Philip was on his way down the stairs again, being dragged by the back of his collar and coat by another man.
Kevin.
She did not hear what was said, but the tones of their voices carried. Kevin’s sounded crisp and angry. Philip’s snarled, belligerent and nasty. She steadied herself against the balustrade. They did not go into the dining room when they reached the lower terrace. Instead, Kevin kept dragging Philip into the garden. Their dark forms disappeared amid the others down there, those of shrubbery and trees.
Then, with Philip’s first howl of pain, four other men ran out of the dining room.