So that people would not think he had taken pity upon her before scandal could break. But her husband stood there, still unable to say a single word.
Drexel laughed again.
“You see, duchess,” he stated coldly. “I hope you are happy in your scandal. The marriage must have been very quick. Your brother is very good. After all, I did share the information with him about you being in the duke’s rooms only a few hours before.”
A gasp went out, and she swallowed.
All the work of her mother, the dowager duchess, her smiles, everything that they’d done? Gone.
Fury bristled off James, and without a word, he snapped. He darted forward, fist raised.
“Don’t,” she cried out, grabbing his arm. “Do not give him the satisfaction.”
Her husband swung his gaze toward her, and she saw something in those eyes she had never seen before.
There was a rage so deep and so intense, she stepped back. He swung his gaze back to Drexel and snarled, “She has saved your life today.”
And with that, he turned on his heel and strode from them.
The crowd jumped out of his way, allowing him to storm back to the house.
Titters and exclamations exploded throughout the guests as he departed.
She whipped toward Drexel, who stood tall, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Did you get what you wanted, then?” she demanded, her own small hands balling into fists. “Is that all you ever wanted? My misery?”
“If you can’t be mine?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Yes. I warned you.”
With those words washing over theton, Drexel turned away, leaving her there with her broken dreams, her broken heart, and the knowledge of a scandal before all.
She sucked in a shuddering breath as tears filled her eyes.
In all her life, she’d never felt so entirely alone, standing in a veritable sea of nobles, all of them staring.
All of them judging.
All of them knowing she might be a duchess…but she was not truly his.
Not in the way it mattered.
For a long moment, she stood before all those stares, her heart, her soul on a precipice. She closed her eyes, feeling the horror of it crash over her.
As tears threatened to spill, she dug her nails into her palms, forced her eyes open, and turned toward the immense townhouse.
The path through the crowd he had made was still there, as if no one quite dared to fill the space.
She did.
Ignoring them all now, there was only one person that was important. One person she had to speak to.
She darted up through the garden, desperate to know what had happened in that moment when he’d stood so still, as if nothing could shake him, and then looked as if he was going to commit murder in the next moment.
Heart racing, she found him standing in the cavernous study, staring up at a towering portrait that dominated the room.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was his father.