Chapter 2 #2
Christopher regarded Rachel with a dismissive nod and then turned to his favorite daughter.
“I heard that you were feeling unwell, darling.” His voice was soft. That sort of gentleness was never directed at Rachel.
It made Rachel nearly gag.
“Oh, I am not well, Father,” Letitia said most dramatically. “I only have Rachel here to assist me, and you know how frustrating and limited she can be.”
Christopher’s gaze flicked toward Rachel.
“Why can’t you look after your sister?” he chided. “You need to act better and pull your weight around this house.”
Rachel wanted to argue with him, saying that it felt like she was the only one who was pulling her weight, but she decided against it.
Whenever Christopher and Letitia were together, it was a different nightmare.
“I am doing what I can.”
Christopher snorted. “I really have my doubts. You dawdle and make excuses, just like your mother always did. Always trying to avoid doing real work.”
Rachel bit back the urge to scream. She hated it whenever he brought up her mother as a way to taunt her.
“I am not avoiding anything.”
“Watch your tone, you ungrateful brat,” Christopher sneered. “You’re fortunate to even be here, under my roof, enjoying the benefits of my name. Do not take that for granted.”
“It would be rather difficult for me to take it for granted.” Rachel could not help herself. It was absurd how little they gave her, and they still expected her to worship the ground that they walked on.
“What was that?”
Rachel thought to say something even worse, but then she thought about Marina. If she rebelled, then they would take it out on her.
Begrudgingly, she bit back down her argument.
“Nothing, my lord.” She lowered her gaze.
“Good.”
“Really, Father. I am happy that you are here to put her in her place,” Letitia said with a laugh. “An ungrateful smear should not be allowed the luxury of speaking back.”
Christopher nodded, clearly pleased with Letitia’s support. “Exactly so.”
Rachel made a move to leave the room again, wanting nothing more than to be rid of their company, but the butler came in, looking rushed.
“My lord, a guest is waiting for you downstairs.”
Christopher exchanged a glance with his daughter.
“Who is it? At this hour?”
“The Duke of Everly, my lord.”
The duke? Surely… it couldn’t be… Rachel suddenly felt pale.
Christopher turned sharply, his brows lifting in surprise. “The Duke of Everly? Here?”
“Yes, my lord,” the butler confirmed. “He is waiting in the drawing room.”
For a moment, Christopher seemed unable to respond, his mind clearly racing. Then, his expression hardened into a mask of purpose. “Of course. I will attend to him immediately.”
“Do you know anything about this visit?” He turned back to Letitia.
Letitia seemed to stumble on her own words. “I am not sure if I do. Do you think he is here to see me?”
Christopher cast a wayward glance at Rachel, who seemed to be red in the face now. “Of course. What other reason could there be?”
He meant it as an insult, but Rachel was too busy being a nervous wreck to take any actual offence.
Did he know? she thought to herself.
“This is a rare opportunity, my dear. Make yourself presentable. We may yet make a fine match,” Christopher said to Letitia, who seemed to be as delusional as she was cruel.
Her eyes widened with excitement, and she practically leapt from her chaise. “Of course, Father. I’ll be ready in no time.”
Christopher nodded, then glanced briefly at Rachel. “Stay out of sight,” he said curtly. “You’d only embarrass us.”
With that, he left the room, and Letitia followed him quickly. Rachel was left standing there, catching her breath.
The Duke of Everly. He must have found out. What else could explain the reason for his visit?
She considered the possibilities for a moment. Could Letitia have been on a mission of her own? Perhaps she managed to sweet-talk the duke, and now, he was here to ask for her hand?
No. The thought was dismissed almost as quickly as it came. Her half-sister had the charm of a brick wall. She could not see that happening.
Someone must have told him, she realized. There was no other way; after all, word travelled fast.
As she had intended for it to as well, but not to him.
Rachel’s carefully constructed lie was unraveling faster than she could mend it. And now, the man himself had arrived.
Well, she thought to herself, I suppose I cannot outrun the consequences of my own actions.
The only thing that she could do now was face what was coming next. She reminded herself that she had chosen to do this for her sister, and that even if her attempt had failed, it would be worthwhile to try anyway.
And besides, if she was to survive, then she was to come up with creative ways to get out of her own situation. Merely being obedient was not going to get her anywhere in life.
With haste, she started to move downstairs. One of the maids noticed her, but she waved her away immediately, making her intention of not being noticed clear.
She slowly peeked through the door, just enough so she could see what was going on. But without being seen herself.
Their drawing room had rarely seen a gathering of this sort. She could feel the charged tension in the atmosphere, even from a distance. Christopher sat waiting, eager to know the reason behind the visit. Letitia was in there, too.
They looked rather desperate, she thought to herself, but then continued to peek through the door, her heart now racing.
Christopher had told her to stay away, but she could not stop herself. Not knowing was worse than any other fate that her father had planned for her. She could bear those consequences as well as she had done this.
At first, she only heard his voice as he spoke to the help, but then, she stole a glance.
Simon Linwood, Duke of Everly, was no myth. He was seated in their drawing room. Even sitting down, it was hard to miss just how tall his stature was. He was towering over them, and Rachel could tell that he was at least a foot taller than her father.
But his expression was not a welcoming one. Rather, it conveyed nothing at all, and that only added to his overall intimidating manner.
She gulped loudly. Had she chosen the wrong person to start a rumor about? As much as she never wished to know the consequences, she was about to find them out.
“Your Grace, it is an honor to welcome you to our home,” Christopher began. “Though we were not expecting such a visit…”
Christopher must have realized that he said the wrong thing, for he scrambled to correct himself.
“I meant to say that we are happy you are here, of course,” he rushed. “No one is happier than my daughter, Letitia. I would be pleased to introduce both of you.”
“I am not here for Letitia,” came the response. It was dry and to the point.
“I am not sure if I understand, Your Grace,” Christopher sounded thoroughly confused. “If not for my daughter, what else could be the reason for your visit?”
“Miss Rachel Montrose,” Simon replied. “I am here to see her.”
At the sound of her own name, it seemed that her heart came to a stop. She stumbled, blowing her cover. All eyes turned to the door behind which she hid, and she wished desperately for the floor to swallow her whole.
“Rachel?” Christopher barked. “Is that you hiding there? Come out here, now.”
“I was just… I...” she stumbled over her words. But now there was no more use in hiding. She had been discovered.
Mustering all the courage she could fathom, she made her way inside the drawing room. Rachel was careful to keep her gaze trained on the ground, but even so, she could feel that the duke was looking in her direction.
Heavens. A blush formed on her cheeks, even though they had not even made eye contact yet.
“Have you been communicating with the duke?” Christopher questioned. “You must have done something silly. Your Grace, I really do apologize.”
Simon waved him off, but Christopher was not done yelling.
“Do you want to tarnish our reputation? What have you done? Speak!”
“I was only…” Rachel spluttered out, but her father did not give her the space to speak.
“Did you drag the Duke of Everly into some ridiculous scheme? This is beyond shameful!”
Simon’s deep voice interrupted, smooth and commanding, “Viscount.”
Christopher froze, turning back to the duke with a strained smile. “Your Grace, I assure you, whatever my daughter has said, she—”
“I am not here to discuss fabrications,” Simon said evenly, his gaze shifting back to Rachel. “I am here because the lady in question has declared herself my fiancée. I intend to make that claim a reality.”
Rachel’s breath caught. Letitia gasped audibly, and Christopher stared at the duke as though he’d sprouted another head.
“Her?” Christopher said incredulously, jabbing a finger in Rachel’s direction. “You mean Rachel?”
“Yes,” Simon replied.
The tension in the air was almost suffocating now. Christopher turned on Rachel once more. “You conniving little—”
“That will be enough,” Simon said, leaving no room for further argument. Christopher froze again, his mouth working soundlessly.
Rachel surprised herself with how little regard she had for her father’s anger in that moment. Normally, she would have been scared, but all she could think about right now was Simon.
And how he would react.
Simon Linwood had an air of danger about him, like anyone would be a fool to cross a line with him. Rachel wondered if she had done just that.
But somehow, she found herself wanting to see the situation through. She noticed the way that his shirt seemed to cling to his body. She was delicate compared to his muscular frame.
The thought made her flush.
For a nobleman, he also appeared to have something of a… rugged appearance. Rachel could not quite place it. She knew dukes to be well-polished and prim, and while he was by no means ragged, there was something else about him that was raw. Authentic even.
Now is hardly the time, she chided herself on her internal monologue.