He stumbled a few steps, but then caught himself and once more advanced upon her.
“What do you do now?” he demanded, looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl. She knew he was pushing her, daring her to react, to use her wits even in a moment that threatened to overwhelm her. “What do you do?”
Retreating, Leonora shook her head, unable to think. “I don’t know. I…” Then she felt the wall at her back and knew that there was no way out. Barely a heartbeat later, Lord Pemberton stood right in front of her. He leaned forward, his hands braced against the wall on each side of her head, his eyes dark and almost menacing as they held hers. “What do you do?”
Staring at him, Leonora shook her head. “I don’t know.”
His brows rose as his gaze held hers. “You run,” he told her, emphasizing each word. “You free yourself, and then you run.” He inhaled a slow breath, then leaned back, his hands falling away, releasing her from the cage he had formed around her. “Is that not what you did that night? You fought him off, and then you ran.”
Leonora paused, staring at him in bewilderment.
“You saved yourself.” His gaze was intense as it held hers. “You saved yourself. You did not wait for another’s rescue. You acted. You protected yourself. Don’t forget that. It was your strength and your will that saved you that night.”
Countless times, Leonora had relived that night in her dreams and her nightmares, and yet, she had never quite looked at what had happened in this way. She had only ever seen her weakness, her fear, her pain. Not once had she considered what had happened as an accomplishment. Yes, he had attacked her, but she had fought him. She had defended herself, and she had gotten away.
Lord Pemberton’s image began to blur as tears shot to Leonora’s eyes. Only these tears spoke of relief, of gratitude because after all this time Leonora finally came to realize that she was strong after all.
Chapter Seventeen
A Safe Anchor
Despite his own past, Drake had never quite looked at a ballroom in the way he did now. He had always known that a number of gentlemen did not deserve the word for they acted anything but gentlemanly. They dominated others through fear and pain and thought only of themselves. More than once, Drake had avenged a wife who had been brutalized by her own husband, someone who ought to see to her protection. Always had Drake found a reason to call out such a man, and more often than not, he had managed to end his life on the field of honor.
Doing so had brought Drake at least a sliver of satisfaction. It would never appease his own guilt over failing his mother, but at least he could ensure that others did not continue to suffer.
However, now, where Lady Leonora was concerned, Drake knew that something had changed. He no longer looked at her as one woman among many. Another victim who deserved his help.
Somehow, she had set herself apart from all the others.
Standing in yet another corner in yet another ballroom, Drake watched Lady Leonora and her family. Indeed, she was never alone, those she loved always nearby. Although Drake had had his doubts before, he had come to realize that Lord Whickerton loved his family fiercely, his watchful eyes never straying far from his daughters. He was a quiet man, who never spoke much and who spent most of his time with his wife by his side. It did not seem that either one of them attended balls in order to socialize, but merely to find another place to be with one another. It was an endearing sight, and Drake wished that all marriages could be like that.
Lady Leonora mostly remained behind whenever her sisters would take to the dance floor. Still, one night, when Lord Sedgwick approached her, Drake could see a new kind of determination come to her eyes. Although her body tensed, she seemed to remain in control, forcing her nerves to settle and accept the close proximity of the young lord. Indeed, Drake watched in astonishment as she accepted his hand and followed him onto the dance floor. It was not a waltz, but a dance that would lead them apart and back together, offering Lady Leonora space and moments of retreat, and Drake wondered if she had chosen the dance with thought.
“You look like a thundercloud,”