Chapter 45: Slap of dominance

It was mid-afternoon in Wycliffe Manor, the sky a pale gray blanket outside the wide windows. A slow drizzle tapped against the glass panes. Most of the household was quiet with servants completing their duties, and nobles in their own chambers.

Cora, ever diligent, had just finished airing out the Duchess's chambers and stepped into one of the side corridors near the linen room to fetch clean towels. The passage was quiet...too quiet. And then suddenly, a shadow loomed.

"Lady's little lapdog, aren't you?" Emilio's voice curled like smoke from the dim corridor ahead.

Cora stiffened, hugging the fresh linens to her chest. "Pardon me, my lord, I need to return to..." Her voice trembled,

He stepped in her path, eyes gleaming with mischief and something far darker. "Always so proper. But Mrs Carroway can't keep you safe forever. And a girl as pretty as you shouldn't go unappreciated."

She stepped back, bumping against the wall. "Please, Lord Emilio..."

But he was already reaching for her. He grabbed her trying to force a kiss on her but she struggled. "No one's coming to save you today. I'll make you mine".

Meanwhile, Evelyn paced through the eastern wing with measured steps. The manor was quieter than usual, the weight of Nathaniel's absence was felt. Though days had passed since his return from London, he rarely stayed in the manor. Evelyn felt it more acutely than she cared to admit. Still, life in the estate moved forward, and she took her daily duties seriously, even if she missed the man who had become both a mystery and an anchor.

Today, however, something felt off. Cora had left Evelyn's chambers over an hour ago to return a shawl to the laundry staff but hadn't returned since. It was unlike her to disappear without a word. Evelyn had dismissed it initially, assuming Cora had gotten caught up with some other duties, but as time stretched on, unease began to coil tightly in her chest.

Leaving her chambers, Evelyn asked one of the maids passing by if they had seen her handmaid.

"No, Your Grace," the maid replied. "Last I saw her, she was heading toward the linen quarters."

That small thread of worry tugged Evelyn in the direction the maid had indicated. Her slippers tapped briskly across the polished floors as she made her way down the west corridor, past the linen stores and storage closets. It wasn't long before she heard muffled voices, one pleading and frightened, the other harsh and low.

She paused, her breath catching. And then she heard it clearly.

"Let go of me! Please, let me go!"

Cora.

Evelyn didn't hesitate. She yanked open the door to one of the back storage rooms, and what she saw froze her in place for a beat.

"Get your hands off her!"

Evelyn's voice sliced through the hallway like a blade. Her footsteps echoed hard and fast as she stormed toward them, eyes ablaze, skirts sweeping around her in a fury of motion.

Emilio barely had time to turn before Evelyn's palm struck his face with a thunderous crack. The sound echoed off the walls. Cora gasped and dropped the towels, stumbling aside.

"You disgusting bastard!" Evelyn shouted, standing between him and her maid, shoulders trembling with rage. "How dare you lay a hand on my handmaid? She is under my protection, and you...you are filth!"

Emilio staggered back, his cheek red with the imprint of her fingers. "You struck me?" he said incredulously, his face contorting with humiliation. "You forget who I am..."

"I don't care if you were the King's bastard himself!" Evelyn snapped. "You are nothing in this house but a leech living off my husband's generosity and abusing his name to scare women who can't fight back."

The commotion had drawn attention. Footsteps thudded as servants peered hesitantly around corners, and then came Juliana and Lady Rosalind, sweeping into the corridor in her usual silk-laced calm. Her eyes took in the scene, her smile thin and practiced.

"What is this noise?" Lady Rosalind demanded, eyes darting between them. Her face blanched at the sight of Evelyn's furious posture and Emilio clutching his cheek.

"Ask your son," Evelyn snapped, pointing at Emilio. "He tried to assault my handmaiden. I found him pinning her against the wall."

Lady Rosalind's face shifted too quickly from horror to diplomacy. "I'm sure it's not what it looked like. A little misunderstanding surely..."

"No misunderstanding," Evelyn said coldly, her chest still rising and falling. "Your son tried to assault my maid."

Juliana stood frozen, her face pale with shock and disgust.

Lady Rosalind's gaze briefly flicked to Cora, who stood trembling behind Evelyn. Then she offered a polished, dismissive laugh. "Oh, come now, she's just a servant. Perhaps there was a misread glance or..."

"She is mine," Evelyn snapped. "Her class does not strip her of dignity or protection. I will not allow her to be violated or threatened. Not under this roof. And certainly not by him."

Rosalind tried again, more gently. "Evelyn, I understand your concern, but making a fuss over a servant..."

"Her name is Cora," Evelyn said sharply. "And she is under my protection. As Duchess of Wycliffe, I will not allow this to be ignored."

Emilio stepped forward, still fuming. "You think you can shame me like this? You, some merchant's daughter who got lucky marrying up?"

Evelyn turned slowly to him, her voice ice. "You are a guest in your cousin's house. Remember your place. I will be informing the Duke the moment he returns. And if I hear of you breathing in Cora's direction again, I will personally see to it that you're thrown out with the garbage."

Emilio gritted his teeth. "Watch your mouth, Duchess. You forget you're just a decorative thing my brother brought home..."

A stillness fell over the corridor.

Evelyn's face turned pale with fury. "You vile, bloated excuse for...."

"That's enough."

The voice was quiet but thunderous. Like the hush before a storm.

Everyone turned.

Nathaniel Wycliffe stood at the end of the corridor, having returned earlier than expected. His coat was damp from the rain outside, his gloves removed, and his sharp eyes fixed not on his wife, but on Emilio.