Chapter 20 #2
He rose to his height, and she followed his eyes. He looked one last time down at the necklace around her neck and straightened his jacket.
“I will be back for dinner,” he said. “Perhaps not the dining hall?”
“I hate that place,” she chuckled.
“Me too.”
He leaned for a goodbye peck and left. The silence he left behind was not the void that it was before. It was filled with his promise and a peaceful quiet. Prim was there, her hand on the pearl, her head in the clouds, and her feet firmly on the ground still.
She had instructed the staff to set a small dinner table in the little drawing room. They were more than happy. The stiff atmosphere of the big dining hall, the sheer amount of work to keep it pristine, the wood to warm it.
“This is so much better, Your Grace,” Mrs. Byrne said. “Will His Grace agree?”
“Where did he have dinner before?”
“Not in the estate,” Mrs. Byrne said with haste. “I mean His Grace…”
Prim realized what the older woman was talking about. Leo always had somewhere else to spend his nights. But for the past month, he was home every night. Never left, not once.
“Well, now we are having dinner here,” Prim said.
As if summoned, Leo walked in briskly. He went straight to her and left a peck on her cheek. Mrs. Byrne smiled and left.
“Leo, the staff!”
“What? Do you wish for me to kiss the staff, too? Mrs. Byrne!”
“Leo!” She chastised and closed his mouth.
He gave her another peck on her lips. Then he took off his jacket and loosened his cravat. Prim watched him transform from a Duke to her husband. It was mesmerizing.
“This is so much better,” he said, pulling a chair for her at the small table. “More like a dinner and less like a martial courtroom.”
“I agree.”
They ate for a while and talked about their day.
It was domesticated and serene and familiar.
Then the dinner was done, the table was cleared, and she had tea and coffee served at the sitting room.
Leo took his seat on the armchair. She was ready to take her seat, but Leo grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down on his lap.
“The martial courtroom had its appeals,” Prim said, reprimanding him.
“No, it didn’t,” he whispered in her ear.
Prim smiled at him as she turned to face his playful look.
He cupped her face and pulled her even closer, his lips eating her hungrily.
She moaned softly in his arms, tightening her arms around his neck.
His kiss turned deeper, his tongue licking her lips, asking her for entrance.
She gasped, and their kiss turned wet and more intimate.
“Your Grace,” his butler interrupted from outside the door.
“Later,” Leo smiled against her lips.
“Your Grace, an invitation.”
“Leave it on my desk,” Leo said, kissing her neck.
“Your Grace, you instructed me to inform you instantly if anything came up regarding the Duke of Covington.”
Leo froze, his heated kiss turned sour against her skin. His body stiffened in ready aggression, his arm turning from passionate to protective. He gently pushed her to her feet and opened the door.
“Give it to me!”
Prim watched as Leo tore open the envelope. He read what Prim could see was an invitation. His face distorted in wrath.
“Those audacious…” he snarled and paced the room.
“Leo?”
He handed her the invitation. Prim read. The Duke of Covington invited 'The Duke and Duchess of Mildenhall' to the annual family dinner”.
“What is this?”
“This,” Leo said and threw away the piece of paper, “is a declaration of war!”
“First of all, this is an invitation to the family dinner. Let’s not get that dramatic.”
Leo’s face cracked in a smirk. But his anger came back tenfold.
“It’s a challenge.”
“That it is,” Prim frowned. “The sheer audacity alone.”
“To invite you to this pit of snakes, they dare call family dinner! To show publicly how they approve of you, while they have been plotting your demise all along.”
“They are certainly plotting something. The plan at the ball backfired.”
“You are my Duchess, but there are still ways to hurt you. Perhaps now more than ever. They need to strike while you are still vulnerable, not established in the eyes of the ton, the marriage after a scandal,” Leo was seething.
“Your what?”
His eyes snapped at hers, only to find her looking at him with a genuine question. His anger dissipated, and he focused on her.
“My Duchess,” he said.
“I find that possessive pronoun quite pleasing,” Prim concluded.
“I shall endeavor to repeat it often.”
“See that you do.”
He sighed as he looked at her.
“It seems that this exact possessive pronoun is what got you in trouble in the first place,” Leo said, his face distorted by anger.
He glanced at the invitation on the floor. His jaw ticked in annoyance.
“We are going,” he said.
“We are?”
“If they thought that I would hide in fear, they should reevaluate their opinion of me.”
Prim looked at the invitation, too. That simple piece of paper that disrupted their peace, which was just starting. She really hated the Covingtons right this moment.
“Prim?” Leo asked. “I understand. I am asking you to walk inside the house of the very people who had done their best to annihilate your dignity. You don’t have to come. I will make an excuse.”
“No need,” she said, her look unwavering. “I will accompany my Duke.”
He smiled at her wickedly.
“You are right, my Duchess,” he held her close. “The possessive pronouns have some merit.”
Prim felt his fingers in her hair and leaned into his touch. His lips found hers in a fierce kiss as if the idea of her getting hurt stirred the anger in him. When he pulls back, he has that mischievous glint in his eye.
“They will certainly not see that coming,” he said with determination.
“I am sure they won’t,” she chuckled. “It might give you some opportunity.”
“Yes, they might slip. Oh, a strategist, Miss P.J.?”
“Simply a lady of the ton.”
“You are so much more than that. Much more.”