Chapter Twenty-five: Infernal Greetings

*Under Revision*

My eyes had been firmly fixed on the muscle ticking away in my husband's clenched jaw, my hands were folded in my lap, my long, still damp, hair was thrown over my shoulder in a hasty braid, already tiny curls were drying and creating a halo around my head as the fire crackled loudly in the tensely, silent room.

My father and Bianca sat on a long, high backed coach. The twins had already been greeted joyously by me, hugs and tears shared by the three of us without regard for our parents and my husband's presence. I had flushed heatedly at the affectionate smile Rhys graced me with when our eyes met and stepped back, quickly smoothing the skirts of my dinner dress. "Father, Mother," I greeted each of them stiffly. It had not been so long ago that I was still living in their home, my own personal hell on earth, I had grown too comfortable, too relaxed. This home was luring me into a sense of safety I had no business feeling.

I mean, what did any of this mean? His Grace inviting my family to his home, all these moments of intense passion where so much is being said and yet none of it with our mouths, never words to confirm. I needed to remind myself of that and not get carried away with my own feelings. Feelings I had left so foolishly unguarded. I was senseless, I scolded myself as my father and Bianca gave some polite non-committal responses to my greeting. Their eyes pinned me to my spot, I knew the moment I was alone they would drill me for my husbands money, they would want to know why I had been ignoring their letters to send them money or jewels he had given me.

They weren't wrong, for some reason His Grace had obtained a whole new wardrobe for me when I had first arrived here, I had steadfastly refused at first, when a servant had requested to measure me to send to the dressmakers for gowns. But despite my refusal an entirely new and stunning wardrobe had been placed in my chambers, jewels, hats, gloves, riding habits, ballgowns, dinner dresses, day dresses, slippers, boots, everything a woman could possibly want and in the richest most alluring fabrics of glittering colors. I had yet to wear any of it, just as I had yet to send them any of my husband's belongings or money. Both of which I didn't intend to ever get around to.

It was almost as if I could physically see the wall going up around Wendy the longer her parents were in our presence and there was a distant and tortured look in her eye, one that was making my heart race with the urge to beat her father's face in with my fist. I flexed my hand out behind my back, remembering the smile on her face as she reunited with her sisters, I would protect her from her parents as long as she got to see her sisters she so obviously loved. My mind was already working out a way to convince her parents to let her sisters live with us, I could grant them access to a large number of titled gentlemen, provide the greatest care for their safety and agree to pay their dowries, I suppressed the grin from my lips, those greedy bastards wouldn't be able to resist.

"Oh, Wendy!" Her sister, Clarissa I guessed, threw her arms around Wendy's waist as she knelt on the floor to embrace her seated sister "How we have missed you!"

"Clarissa!" Her mother's sharp voice broke through the loving moment "Get off of your knees this instant!" she might as well have been a snake for the way she hissed the words out to her daughter. My fist clenched again, these people lacked all basic human decency and if they were willing to act so disgustingly in the presence of others, I could only imagine what they could be like alone. The thought had my eyes darting back to my wife, just in time to see her spine sit up all that straighter as she pulled her sister into a tighter embrace, squeezing her gently, before lifting her to feet again and smiling softly at her.

My chest tightened with emotion, she was perfect, the perfect duchess, the perfect wife, and sister. She was perfect for every inch and area of my life and would not stop thanking the Lord that she had fallen into my arms that blessed night. She handled every situation with Grace and Poise and the kind of thoughtfulness that takes time to craft, time to nurture and shape. She kept her composure but not when I had her in my arms, which is exactly where I always want her.

Clarissa sat sullenly next to Wendy, her eyes downcast, only glancing up ever now and then to share looks with her twin sister as silence fell over the room.

"It is getting very late and I am quite certain you are weary from your travels." My voice shattered the silence and all at once I had the whole family's eyes on me.

Bianca smiled a sickly sweet smile my way and clasped her hands in front of her chest "You are so right, Your Grace" She stood and crossed over to Wendy, pulling her up by her arm and yanking her towards her. Bianca towered over Wendy in height, her father wasn't an overly tall man but she was so much smaller than the rest of her lengthy family. "I have so missed Wendy" She turned to face her as she continued "Why don't you show us to our rooms!" If I had not been paying such close attention I might have missed the way Bianca's fingernails dug into Wendy's arm and the slight wince that sliced across her beautiful face.

The moment that Bianca's long fingernails broke the skin of my arm I could not hide the pain from my face, suddenly the air in the room no longer crackled with the warmth of the fire a chill cut through the room and I watched as all the emotion drained from the Duke's face as he shifted into an emotionless stonewall, the only clue to his feelings was the rage building in his eyes. Fury burning in his gray eyes like the billowing smoke of a fire.

"You dare to harm my wife in front of my very eyes" His voice was a deadly calm, he spoke lowly and yet it seemed to carry throughout the room, no one moved a muscle as he spoke. His eyes remained pinned to where Bianca was still holding me and she suddenly dropped my arm as though I had burned her and stepped back so quickly her heel caught the edge of her dress and she fell back into Father, the pair stumbling back against the couch in an ungraceful heap of limbs and curses.

I turned to look at the Duke, his eyes portraying his anger clearly, I begged with my own eyes that he would not send my sisters away from me, his jaw clenched even tighter his pulse thumped violently "Lach!" He snapped out as he turned his head, breaking the intense eye contact as a gasp escaped my lips releasing the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

He turned to look at my parents as they clumsily righted themselves "You may count yourselves lucky that by some grace of God my wife has more forgiveness in her little finger than I have throughout my entire body." Lach had stepped into the room promptly after being summoned and waited ever ready by as His Grace spoke "Escort the Earl and his Wife to their chambers and arrange for a maid to show the ladies to their chambers as well." He was still speaking as he crossed the room and grabbed me around the waist, suddenly sweeping me up into his arms and carrying me out of the room and towards the grand staircase.

My face flushed with embarrassment, I turned into his shoulder, why was he treating me like I would break at any second. I couldn't take the thought of what had just happened, my husband just had a clear glimpse into what was once my hellish existence. He must regret his choice for his Duchess even more now than he already was, why would he want such a weak woman. One who couldn't even stand up for herself against her abusers.

The double door entrance to his room was open as he walked with purpose across the room, setting me gently in a large, blue, cushioned chair. I turned from me without speaking, walking back to the doors of his chambers and slamming them shut. The loud sound caused me to flinch where I sat. The Duke's knuckles were white as he gripped the handles on the doors.

I tried to swallow the sudden dizziness that overwhelmed me, what he was thinking was lost on me, he was no doubt wondering how he could get rid of me now. He turned suddenly, he started to walk towards me slowly, even stopping at the table beside me to pour himself a drink before he bent until he was breathing in the scent of my hair, his nose buried in the curls at my temples, his fingers danced around the edge of my braid, sweeping it over and clearing my shoulder of all hair and fabric. His fingertips were dancing along my collarbone before he gripped the back of my neck and angled my face towards him.

His lips were brushing against mine, his breathing was shuddered and I could feel how he was shaking with unconstrained emotion and I was sure that he could hear my heart pounding against my rib-cage. "If they ever lay another finger on you" he began to whisper against my lips and my eyes stung from the start of tears "and don't think I won't know" his hand danced around my waist before he dragged my body up against his "They won't live to tell a soul about it." his words sent a shiver down my spine which quickly turned to a pulling ache in my stomach as he pressed his lips to mine, his tongue sweeping out and dipping gently into my mouth.

He ripped his lips from mine and kissed my forehead before he set about the task of cleaning the fingernail cuts in my arm.

No words were exchanged as he carefully and gently took care of my wound, I had to look away from the way he almost lovingly gave aid to me. He had my head feeling like I was trudging through a thick fog at a time when I needed to think clearly and rationally. It was how I had survived until now and so far I didn't see a reason to change, at least, not if I refused to see it that is.