Chapter 25 #2
Raph’s eyes blazed with hunger. “I’ll just have to discipline you harder until you’re tame enough.”
The seductive warning made her skin tingle deliciously.
He cornered her against the wall of the alcove. The ballroom’s hum faded completely behind them, and he loomed over her, pinning her with his body and scent as he braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned down.
“Raph, someone will see.” Camelia looked around in fear, but found no one nearby.
Her pulse quickened under his glare, her body arched towards him as she craved his touch even in a forbidden place.
“You laughed so freely with Ashton. Unashamed, unguarded. That laugh belongs to me, Camelia. Only I should draw it from you and make you unravel.”
“That’s absurd!” she protested. “Why does it affect you so?”
“Because you’re mine,” he said simply.
A shiver rippled through Camelia. The urge to give herself to him—consequences be damned—rose fierce and sudden inside her.
Sensing her need, Raph leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, a soft invitation. Camelia’s breath caught, then her lips parted.
“When we get home,” Raph murmured, “I’ll have you laughing, moaning, and begging only for me.”
Her knees nearly buckled at the promise. She pressed a trembling hand to his chest, not to stop him—not really—but to steady herself. “Raph… wait.”
He pulled back instantly, concern flickering across his features when she stepped away from him. She needed to catch her breath.
“Camelia?” Raph called after her as she walked briskly out of the alcove.
“I just need some air, Raph,” she managed, her pulse still racing. “You need to give me a moment.”
“A moment for what?” He hurried after her.
She spun, jabbing a finger at him—not accusatory, but desperate.
“One minute you insult me, and the next you… you touch me like that, and I can’t think straight!
You make me question everything I feel.” She turned away again, overwhelmed more by desire than anger.
“Just a moment, please. I need to breathe.”
Raph halted, letting her walk toward the garden.
After a few minutes, footsteps approached.
“I told you I just needed a moment, Raph—”
Her breath caught. It wasn’t her husband.
Lord Montague stood behind her, smirking, a glint of malice in his eyes.
“Well, well, Your Grace,” he drawled, his voice dripping with false charm. “It’s funny finding you here, in a shadowed corner without your… husband.” He eyed her with disgust.
“Lord Montague, it’s never a pleasure finding you at such events,” she responded stiffly.
Her insult made his nostrils flare.
Lord Montague began to circle her like a hungry predator. “How is His Grace’s daughter? What was her name again?” He frowned in thought. “Ah, yes! Was it Pamela?”
Camelia’s back went rigid. “Why in heaven’s name are you asking about Pamela?” She did not hide the distaste in her tone.
“I am just curious, that’s all,” he sneered.
“If you ever utter my daughter’s name again, I will silence you forever, Montague.” Raph’s booming voice stopped Lord Montague in his tracks.
Camelia’s heart lurched. The venom in Raph’s tone chilled her, and it seemed to have the same effect on Lord Montague.
Why did he mention Pamela? Does he want to hurt Raph through her?
“Camelia, come here,” Raph commanded.
“You should save yourself the embarrassment and leave while you can, Lord Montague.” Camelia glared at the man before brushing past him.
“You’ve gained much more confidence with your title, but you’ll always be a poor man’s daughter,” Lord Montague hissed under his breath so only she could hear.
Camelia’s fists clenched at her sides as she stalked towards Raph. He stepped between her and Lord Montague, then leaned towards the man and whispered something in his ear that made his eyes widen in fear.
“We’re leaving, Camelia. Now,” he grunted, pulling her towards the exit without any further explanation.
His wide stride was purposeful, and Camelia struggled to keep up with him.
“Raph, what just happened?” she asked urgently, but he remained silent. “What did you say to him?” she pressed.
“Just a good old threat to make him stay in his lane,” he replied drily as they walked to their waiting carriage.
“But why did Lord Montague mention Pamela? What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing, Camelia.”
“There’s a secret here that you need to tell me.”
Raph helped her into the carriage, his movements jerky as he settled across from her.
“Raph, please. Let me in.”
“That’s not an easy task for me, Camelia.” He avoided meeting her eyes.
“Try, because I’m tired of being lost!” she snapped.
Raph sat silently for a few moments, the sounds of the travelling carriage echoed between them before he turned to her with pained eyes. “Lord Montague is a predator, Camelia.”
“I know that, Raph. But why was he asking about Pamela? You don’t mean to tell me that he plans to marry her.”
“No.” Raph gave her a disgusted look.
“Are you going to tell me or leave me guessing?”
Raph lifted his head, and without preamble, he confessed a deeply unsettling truth.
“Lord Montague is Pamela’s real father.”
Camelia gasped. “He is Pamela’s real father?”
Raph nodded, his eyes glazed over. “Yes, that’s why I need rules and control. It’s all to protect her, so she won’t suffer the way her mother did.”
Camelia had longed for the truth, but hadn’t expected it to pierce her heart.
“The reason you married me was to get revenge on him?”
“No, Camelia. I married you to protect you and your family and put an end to his evil schemes.”
His words did little to comfort her after the truth scarred her.
“Raph, I have no idea what to say, but my pain does not matter. Hiding this from Pamela will hurt her even more than it did me, and when she finds out the truth, you might lose her forever. She already feels the distance between you two.”
Raph shook his head, and the coldness returned to his eyes. “You don’t understand, Camelia. This truth would break her. I’ve built a life to shield her from him.”
“Oh, but I do understand. More than ever. What it’s like to be lied to by you!”
“You would have been ruined, Camelia.” Raph’s voice was low. “Cast out, whispered about in every drawing room from here to Edinburgh, if I hadn’t dragged you out of that alley and made you a duchess.”
The words struck harder than the cold air drifting through the carriage window. Ice clawed at her skin, but it was nothing compared to the burn behind her eyes. Tears welled, hot and treacherous, but she blinked them away.
“You could have told me,” she whispered shakily.
“From the very first time you spotted him at my father’s house, you could have told me that he gave you that scar and that this marriage was nothing but an act of your duty.
I stood at the altar believing… God, I believed we might have made something real from this mess. ”
Her throat closed on the last words.
The carriage rolled over a rut, jerking violently, yet neither of them moved. The space between them was thick with unspoken words. Raph’s gloved hands lay clenched on his knees. His silence spoke louder than any hurtful words he could have said.
“Don’t ever speak to me of ruin again,” Camelia said, her voice barely audible. “You’ve already delivered it.”
She turned her face to the window so he wouldn’t see her tears spill over.
They headed home, where lies festered, and where Pamela lay asleep, safe from the daunting truth.