Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Calm yourself. It is just a visit.
Rachel had not been nervous to see her family again. At least, that was what she told herself. She had lived among them long enough to know precisely what to expect.
She knew that Letitia would let her tongue run far more than she ought and that her father would simply let her get away with whatever she was doing.
It was a routine at this point. The only person that she truly looked forward to seeing was her sister.
Nervousness filled her as she waited for them to arrive. It would be any moment now.
“Keep calm,” she reminded herself yet again.
Simon, on the other hand, had been distant all morning. He had kept conversations with her short, and she was not even sure that he was going to be here when her family arrived.
But he had surprised her by showing up.
He kept his hands clasped behind him, and it only made her think of when he had used them to hold her.
Heavens.
She grew flushed.
A moment later, the butler announced them.
“Lord Montrose, Miss Letitia Montrose, and Miss Marina Montrose.”
Christopher entered first. He cast a cursory glance around the room, his gaze barely skimming over Rachel before landing on Simon with a look of calculated interest.
Of course, he is only interested in Simon. Her father had not cared for her before, so she would have been a fool to expect anything different now.
Letitia followed closely, smiling but not sincerely. It was the kind of smile that suggested she had already found something to criticize.
Marina entered last, but when she saw Rachel, her eyes lit up with relief.
“Rachel!” She reached for her sister’s hands, squeezing them in greeting.
“Marina!”
Christopher Montrose stepped forward, ever the imposing figure. “Your Grace,” he greeted Simon with a slight bow, his gaze assessing. “A pleasure to be received in your home.”
Simon inclined his head. “The pleasure is mine, of course.”
Rachel could see the way Christopher’s eyes darted over the fine furnishings, the gilded edges of the room, and the sheer wealth on display. And then, as expected, his next words came without hesitation.
“I imagine Everly Hall must require extensive estate management. These old properties—quite costly to maintain, are they not?”
Rachel nearly groaned. Of course, he would start with Simon’s finances.
Simon’s expression remained unreadable. “A well-managed estate does not concern itself with costs,” he replied smoothly.
Christopher chuckled, though there was no real humor in the sound. “Spoken like a man with a fortune to spare.”
Simon said nothing. He merely sipped his drink.
Letitia let out a small laugh. “Well, at least Rachel has done well for herself,” she said. “We were all so surprised to hear of the match. Rachel was always busy with chores around the house. I do wonder when she got the time to go about finding a love match.”
Simon set his glass down.
“It does not take long,” Simon replied. “One meeting is enough.”
“Oh, I do not doubt it,” Letitia mused. “Rachel has always been… resourceful.”
She was insinuating something wicked.
“I would think that it is better than being jealous,” Rachel pointed out. “Which you seem to be at this moment.”
Letitia’s lips parted in mock surprise. “Jealous? My dear, what a thing to say. Why, I am nothing but pleased for you.” She glanced at Simon. “I am not worried about my own match, either. I am certain that I will be paired soon.”
Simon took this moment to step in.
“How fortunate,” he said smoothly, “Rachel’s resourcefulness—as you say—has put her in quite an ideal situation. Otherwise, she would be sitting here like you, gloating about matches that have not yet been made and entertaining whoever looks your way.”
Letitia stiffened.
Simon leaned forward slightly, his gaze as sharp as cut glass. “But then again, some women enjoy the attention.”
The meaning landed immediately.
Rachel watched as her sister’s expression flickered and then transformed into one of offense.
She had always bragged about how she was highly sought after, but Simon had made it sound like a weakness rather than an advantage.
“My, how protective you are, Your Grace.”
Simon lifted his glass. “A husband’s duty.”
“And here I thought my sister never needed anyone to protect her.”
“Perhaps not, but she has me nonetheless,” Simon exhaled, slowly.
“Well,” she murmured, “isn’t that… sweet.”
It was no surprise that Letitia was seething on the inside. It was almost amusing to see. After all these years, how the tables had turned.
Simon looked rather irritated by the whole thing, and Rachel almost felt bad for having subjected him to this madness.
Marina cleared her throat delicately, drawing attention away from the exchange. She had noticed the tension and had decided to come to her sister’s rescue.
Much needed, Rachel thought to herself. It would be a waste if she spent the entirety of the evening exchanging subtle jabs with Letitia.
“I have been receiving a few callers, Rachel,” she said quietly, as if hoping to steer the conversation somewhere safer.
“Oh? Have any caught your interest?” Rachel turned to her sister, softening.
Marina hesitated, then cast a glance downward. “There are two who have been somewhat… consistent in their attentions.”
Letitia scoffed, folding her arms.
“Something wrong, sister?” Rachel confronted her directly. Could Letitia let it go for one moment without trying to insert herself into everything?
“A baron and the second son of a viscount,” she remarked dryly. “Hardly prime choices.”
Rachel shot Letitia a glare before turning back to Marina. “Are you interested in either of them?”
Marina bit her lip. “I think so. I do not know.”
“She is far too kind,” Letitia continued, waving a hand dismissively. “She ought to refuse them both outright before they begin thinking themselves worthy.”
“And what, exactly, makes a man worthy, Letitia? His title? His fortune? Or perhaps simply the fact that he is as cruel as he is rich?” Rachel challenged, tired of it all.
“My, my, Rachel. That almost sounded like a criticism of your own situation,” Letitia’s eyes gleamed with delight.
Before Rachel could respond, Simon finally spoke, his tone deceptively mild.
“Forgive me, Miss Letitia, but if the discussion is to turn to the merits of one’s title, I must ask—who, precisely, have you managed to ensnare in the matrimonial race?”
Letitia stiffened. Rachel bit back a smile while Marina let out a soft giggle.
Christopher cleared his throat. “A title is one thing. Wealth is another. The two do not always align, do they, Your Grace?”
“Indeed,” Simon’s expression remained unbothered.
Silence stretched between them for a moment before Marina spoke again, more softly this time. “I truly am happy for you, Rachel,” she said, squeezing her sister’s hand. “But I worry.”
Rachel exhaled, her gaze flicking—just briefly—toward Simon.
“Yes,” she murmured. “So do I.”
Simon met her gaze across the room; something in the way he held her stare—something dark, something heated—made her breath catch.
She looked away first. Letitia smirked.
And the visit continued as disastrously as ever.
Rachel should have known Letitia would not leave without one last strike.
“Oh, Rachel,” Letitia sighed dramatically, glancing between her sister and the duke, “I have just realized I never had the opportunity to congratulate you properly on your remarkable achievement.”
Rachel stiffened but forced a pleasant smile. She had almost forgotten how overbearing Letitia could be.
“How kind of you, Letitia. And what achievement, pray tell, would that be?”
Letitia smiled, “Why, securing your marriage to His Grace, of course,” she said, stretching each word. “Quite the achievement, isn’t it? A maid’s daughter made a duchess. I can only imagine how much you struggled to get there.”
Rachel did not rise to the bait, but her jaw clenched.
“It really is a dream come true for someone of your standing.”
Simon, who had been silent until then, shifted. His head moved slightly in Letitia’s direction.
Rachel maintained a loose posture and met Letitia’s smug look head-on. “No more difficult than your own aspirations, I suppose,” she said coolly. “The only difference is that I succeeded.”
Letitia’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, long enough to gratify something deep within Rachel, but the woman regained her composure swiftly.
“Good heavens, no,” Letitia laughed. “I would never deign to tell falsehoods about a man I’d never even laid eyes upon. Then again, not everyone has the luxury of being able to play fairly, now do we?”
Rachel’s heart sank.
She’d expected her to be cruel—she always did when it came to Letitia—but this was far worse.
Rachel didn’t blink, but her gut knotted with fear. She could sense the heaviness of Simon’s body next to hers and couldn’t help but wonder—what was going through his mind? Was he doubting everything now? Wondering if the gossip had been some kind of trap?
She made herself glance at him. But when her gaze landed on his face, she saw that he wasn’t gazing back at her.
His eyes were on Letitia.
“I would be careful, Miss Letitia,” Simon told her. “You speak confidently of things you know very little about.”
Letitia’s lips parted, barely. She wasn’t accustomed to being addressed in this manner—certainly not by a duke. The smugness went out of her face.
“I only meant—”
“What you meant was to insult your sister under the guise of civility. Do not mistake me for a fool—I recognize a veiled attack when I hear one.”
Letitia straightened her shoulders, her mouth tightening into something dangerously close to a pout. “I merely wished to state the facts.”
“The facts,” Simon repeated, his tone flat. “Here is a fact for you, Miss Letitia—I do not tolerate disrespect toward my wife. Not from anyone. And especially not from you.”
Letitia’s face reddened, and for once, she found herself at a loss for words.
Christopher, who had been pretending to take great interest in his drink, finally decided it was time to intervene.
“Now, Your Grace,” he began, “Letitia surely meant no offense. It was merely an observation.”
“If Miss Letitia cannot conduct herself with the respect befitting a guest in my home, then she is no longer welcome in it.”
It was a threat and not one that was even thinly concealed. The weight of Simon’s words hung heavily in the air, the implication clear.
Rachel had spent her life being belittled in her father’s house, treated as lesser simply because she had the misfortune of being born to the wrong mother. She had endured Letitia’s cruelty with patience, knowing she could never fight back without consequence.
But this? This was the first time anyone had ever defended her so directly.
Simon did not raise his voice. He did not make a scene, as his delivery was much more subtle. He had made it clear that she mattered.
That she was his.
Letitia, for all her bravado, was still a woman of the ton. She knew that being unwelcome in a house of this standing was no small thing. Her eyes darted to Christopher, silently pleading for intervention.
“We will not impose further.” Christopher exhaled through his nose before rising stiffly to his feet.
Letitia’s expression soured, but she knew better than to argue with Simon. She turned back to Rachel, her smile tight and forced.
“Well, it seems you have found yourself quite the protective husband.”
“Indeed,” she replied coolly. “And I suggest you remember that the next time you wish to insult me.”
Letitia muttered something under her breath.
Marina stepped forward hesitantly, quick to break the tension.
“I will see you soon?” she asked quietly, her voice almost pleading.
Rachel’s heart softened instantly. Marina, at least, had never been part of the cruelty.
“Yes,” Rachel said with a small smile. “I will accompany you to the next ball.”
“Truly?” Marina’s eyes widened.
“We will both be in attendance. And I expect you to introduce me to these suitors of yours,” Rachel nodded.
Marina flushed, glancing nervously at Letitia. “Oh, well—”
Letitia rolled her eyes. “If you must waste your time on a baron and a second son of a viscount, then by all means, parade them about.”
Rachel turned to Marina, ignoring Letitia entirely. “If they are kind to you, that is all that matters.”
Marina squeezed her hands, her gratitude evident.
Christopher, sensing the conversation was over, inclined his head toward Simon. “Your Grace.”
Simon did not bow, nor did he offer any parting pleasantries.
Letitia was the first to make her exit, dramatically as always. Rachel wondered if she was acting like this because she felt threatened by her now.
Christopher followed his daughter.
Marina was slower. She gave a final smile to her sister and then hugged her goodbye.
“I am sorry about all of this,” Marina whispered in her ear before leaving.
Now the two of them were finally alone. A silence fell between them.
Rachel turned to Simon. She should say something about what had just happened. It was embarrassing how often this sort of thing occurred with her family.
He was still watching her.
“You always stand up for me in front of my family,” she noted.
“Only because you do not stand up for yourself,” he replied. “You need to stop letting them get away with their petty taunts.”
“Old habits die hard.” She smiled, though it did not reach her eyes.
“Old habits need to be removed,” he told her. “Next time, I want to see you being firmer.”
“You have too much confidence in me,” she said, softly. “It will take me some time to learn.”
Simon pursed his lips. “Whenever you feel small in front of them, remember who you are.”
And with that, he left her standing there.