Duchess By Night

Page 34

But whatever thought she had flew from her head as the door at the end opened, letting in a swirl of snow and wind. She leapt back.
Strange stood in the door for a second, and then walked forward, throwing the door shut behind him. He pulled off his gloves, one by one, with a silent precision that contained as much threat as a tiger’s slavering yowl.
“Good evening,” Harriet said. “I thought you were with your guests, my lord.”
“I had the suspicion that I should watch you,” he said. He turned his eyes onto young Nick. “Off to your quarters, boy.”
Nick hesitated, throwing a worried glance at Harriet. She brought out the coin she saved for him. “I’m most grateful to you for your tutelage, Nick. Thank you. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“But you’ll—” he said, but stopped. Obviously, he needed the position, and she could see chivalry and terror warring in his face.
“Go,” Strange said. There was something flat in his tone that made the boy turn and flee.
Harriet turned to face Strange. He’d been irritable with her before, but now there was true rage burning in his eyes. He slapped his gloves into the palm of his hand with a noise like a gunshot.
“Is there some way that I can help you?” Harriet asked.
“Do you know, I thought the opposite?” he said. “I thought that I should watch over you, to make sure that you weren’t beguiled by one of the scum that sometime float around the house. But I didn’t realize that you would be a predator.”
Harriet blinked at him. “Predator? I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I take umbrage at the insult, my lord.”
“You take umbrage,” he sneered. “I catch you kissing my stable boy, a good boy, and giving him money, and you take umbrage?”
She frowned at him. “He was helping me—”
“That sort of help isn’t allowed in my house,” he said, and his voice was as chill as a frozen knife. “Never. Under any circumstances. Do you understand?”
“I—”
“A simple yes or no is enough. Do you understand?”
Harriet stood there for a moment trying to figure out if she did understand. The only possibility that came to mind was—
Her mouth fell open and she could feel her eyes growing round. “You couldn’t—you didn’t—” She spluttered. “You degenerate beast!”
There was a moment of panting silence in the stable, and suddenly Strange threw back his head and started to laugh. The noise of it rang in the rafters and made the horses prick up their ears.
“You are a fiend,” Harriet said, moving to walk past him. “Your mind is as black as a privy. I’ll leave these premises tomorrow.”
He caught her arm, still laughing. “I’m not a fiend, Harry. I’m not.”
She glared at him. “No one but the most dissipated rascal could have such a thought in his head.” She jerked her arm away.
He was still grinning. “It’s your face,” he said, sounding utterly unrepentant.
“My face!” she said, feeling her cheeks go red. “There is nothing in my face that would lead anyone to that conclusion. You, sir, are just as much a hell-hound as they say of you, and I was a fool to come near your estate. I’ll leave tonight!”
“Don’t you see,” he said, grabbing her arm again, “I was just trying to protect young Nick? You’re damned beautiful for a man, Harry. It made me suspicious, and I shouldn’t have been. You can’t help the way you’re born.”
“The very fact the thought came into your mind—”
“I’m an adult. I run a house party that makes no pretenses to follow the rules of decent society. Of course I thought of it. Among other things, I’m the father of a lovely little girl. I have to think about such things.”
Harriet shuddered. “I pity you, then. Because my father and mother never worried about that.”
“Oh, they must have,” Strange said. “Not worry about you? With that beauty you have? The way your eyes look, so innocent and that brown-violet color?” His mouth curled up. “They worried about you, young Harry. It’s to your mother’s credit that you never encountered this sort of ugliness.”
“If you have, it’s because you live a licentious life,” Harriet said, feeling as if the moorings of her rage were slipping away from her. A moment ago she was about to leave the estate, and now he was looking at her, and there was a shadow of something on his face that made her feel odd. It was almost sadness, but how was that possible?
“Quite likely,” he said.
“You shouldn’t have such people around you,” she snapped. “Then you wouldn’t have to have such invidious thoughts.”
“I would always have that kind of thought.”
“I pity you, then,” she said. “I know the friends who enter my home. I know their strengths and their weaknesses. I need not fear them.”
“No one knows what’s in another man’s heart. The greatest evil often lies under the prettiest face.”
Something went across his eyes that was pure pain, but he shook it away, and the laughter was there again. “Now, you must forgive me, young Harry. Really you must. You see, I did think I knew you. And my rage was all the greater because I suddenly thought I’d made a mistake.”
Harriet smiled, a bit stiffly. “It’s quite all right.”
His charm was a potent weapon. He walked back to the house, talking of inconsequentials. But Harriet felt faintly nauseated. This was not the house for her, not a place where Strange clearly expected that sort of thing might happen to little Nick. She needed to leave. And what’s more, she would take Nick with her. She could easily employ him on her estate. She had about sixty people there, and not a single lecher that Nick needed to fear.
When they entered the house she started toward the stairs, but Strange stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Surely you haven’t forgotten Kitty?”
“I’m sure the two of you can entertain each other,” Harriet said, not impolitely. “Will you give her my excuses, please?”
“So you can go upstairs and instruct your man to pack your bags?”
She hesitated. It seemed so bald. And yet, why prevaricate? “Yes,” she said. “This is no place for me.”
He dropped her arm. “Of course, I cannot stop you. Will you bid Villiers goodbye tonight or tomorrow morning? I was bid to his room this evening.”
“Then I will join you and make my farewell,” she said. “And I do thank you for your hospitality, my lord. It’s not your fault that I am more naïve than I thought. I belong at home.”
“In the country? Do you live in the country, Harry?”
She nodded. “I thought it was a boring existence, but now I am changing my mind.”
“I wish you would change your mind about Kitty. How often does one get to see an angel perform?”
Harriet didn’t bother to answer that. He walked up the stairs beside her.
Villiers’s chamber was hung with blue velvet and had the lush atmosphere that Harriet imagined one would find in a courtesan’s drawing room. Villiers was lying on a settee next to the fire, wearing a dressing gown of rich black embroidered with pearl. Candlelight threw shadows on his face, on the exquisite drape of his gown, on the lavish velvet on the walls.