Chapter 43 #2
The man in front of her was a snake.
She glanced at her uncle, who did not meet her gaze. His focus was entirely on Nathanial. As was her grandfather’s.
Until they suddenly flicked to the side, and she was aware of her father standing there.
Without her mother. Not because he did not want to include her, she realized immediately, but because her father was always going to protect her mother.
He would never put her in front of these two men without being assured of her welcome.
Which was why he was now at Kalina’s side, providing a second shield. Bolstering her.
“Father. George.” Her father’s gaze flicked between his parent and his brother.
He bowed. Very slightly. The expression on both of their faces had turned to pure contempt, and she could not imagine how hard it was for him to see them look at him so.
She wished she could reach out and hold his hand, but that would only weaken their position in front of the ton.
Society respected strength. Stiff upper lips.
“Finally got your wish, eh, John?” The marquess looked down his nose at her father. “Bought yourself a place in Society that I cannot ignore.”
Rather than answering him, her father looked at her and Nathanial.
“Go on,” he said softly. “You were on your way to the dance floor.” They did not need to be here for the marquess to sharpen his claws on. The unspoken words hung in the air.
Her father was willing to face this alone, but Kalina did not want him to have to.
Thankfully, her husband was doing an excellent imitation of a brick. He did not move an inch, nor did he look away from the marquess and his heir.
Until suddenly he did. Incredibly rudely.
Kalina found herself spun around as her husband gave the marquess and his son the cut direct, turning without acknowledging them, without taking their leave.
Gasps echoed through the ballroom. Even the musicians had not begun playing yet.
Every single guest was too caught up in the drama playing out before them.
Kalina’s heart was beating so fast in her chest, she thought it might jump right out of it. She was used to being at the center of attention, but not like this.
“Hereford!” That was not her grandfather; it must be her uncle, and he sounded utterly shocked. He could not have expected to be given the cut by a duke because Kalina had certainly not expected it. “You cannot be taking their side.”
This time, Nathanial whirled around without bringing her with him, but Kalina turned just as quickly.
Both the Marquess and her uncle looked horrified, but her father…
her father was watching Nathanial with a strange combination of relief and pride.
Gratitude. She’d thought he would be horrified that Hereford had just given his family the cut.
This was not the reaction she’d expected.
“You mean my wife’s side?” Nathanial’s voice was low, lethal with warning that her uncle did not heed.
“We all know you were trapped into… this.” Her uncle waved his hand at her, still not looking at her, as if she was not truly a person to him.
Even though she had no feeling for him, being treated as if she had no feelings, no worth, still stabbed her through the heart. Especially because he was right.
“A house party, from which you return with an unexpected wife? A wife who we all know was angling for a duke? The whole of Society knows you would not have chosen such an… an indecent match.”
Her husband moved so quickly, Kalina did not have time to stop him before he plowed his fist into her uncle’s face.
Gasps and screams rent the air as her uncle stumbled back, holding his nose, blood already seeping through his fingers and staining the pristine white of his gloves.
Hands over her mouth in utter shock, Kalina could only stare.
“Speak of my wife again like that and we’ll have a meeting at dawn,” Nathanial growled, fists clenched at his sides. She could not see his face because he had placed himself in front of her, a knight defending her honor. “We are a love match.”
The Marquess did not go to help his son. He stood there, eyes glittering with malevolence as new gasps and titters swept the ballroom. Kalina stood stock still; that had not sounded as though Nathanial was trying to cover up the truth, the scandal.
It sounded as though he meant it.
There was a flurry of movement, and Kalina found herself standing between her mother and Delilah.
Lady Astrid and Tiffany were there as well, placing themselves slightly in front of her.
The Dowager Duchess of Clarence stood beside Kalina’s mother, keeping slightly to the side as she tried to see the Marquess’ reaction—as short as she was, she likely could not see much because Kalina’s father was now standing beside Nathanial as well, with Ashwin and Ruper just behind him.
But it was the line of dukes who caused the marquess to take a step back.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, a menacing line of power, confidence, and muscle—with a single tiny monkey who chittered threateningly before falling silent again. All seven of the tragic dukes had joined together to defend their own.
Which was when Kalina realized that there was no need for the family her father had sought to provide by reconciling with his father… This was their family. The people who stood beside them, no matter what.
She finally had a place where she belonged.
“You go too far, all of you,” the marquess started to say.
What more he might have said, they would never know because he suddenly shrieked and stumbled forward, arching his back.
The line of dukes tensed, like they were not sure whether to defend themselves or try to catch him, but he managed to keep from actually falling over at the last moment.
Whirling around, he glared at the Countess of Spencer, who stood there with an empty glass and an expression of wide-eyed innocence on her beautiful face.
“Oh my,” she said, putting one hand up to her cheek and then bobbing into a curtsy that was just short of the exact degree due to a marquess. “My apologies, my lord. I tripped.”
The Marquess glared at her, trying to reach behind himself to feel the wet spot on his back. It was not very visible due to the black of his coat, but it must have been very uncomfortable because he was squirming in place.
Before he could turn his ire on her, the Earl of Spencer, a darkly handsome man with an extremely impressive glower, stepped up to his wife’s side.
Though their rank was lower than a marquess’, their reputation for wild and unpredictable behavior, as well as their connections, made them a force within the ton.
The fact that the countess was willing to spill her drink on a marquess was proof of that.
And they had their own large circle of influence as well.
The Duke and Duchess of Manchester moved to their side, and Lydia caught Kalina’s eye across the way, giving her a supportive smile.
The duke’s sister and her husband, the heir to Viscount Hood, moved out of the crowd as well.
Lady Arabella, whose outrageous antics within Society rivaled the Countess of Spencer’s, immediately stepped to her side.
The Marquess of Dunbury and his wife, Lord Hyde and his wife, the tall and tawny Marquess of Hartford and his wife…
Kalina’s grandfather and uncle were caught between the two groups, the rest of the ton looking on with bated breath.
“What an unfortunate accident. You are going to want to have that tended to immediately,” Lady Arabella said to the marquess, smiling in a way that was more like baring her teeth. “It is too bad you will have to miss the rest of the ball.”
“Yes, well.” The marquess’ gaze darted back and forth, but no one stepped forward to help him.
No one stepped forward to support him.
He lifted his chin and gestured to his son, who was still holding his nose, though he was no longer glaring at anyone. He seemed to have shrunk in on himself.
“Come, George, I need to go home.” He said it as if it was his idea, but everyone in the ballroom knew that he had been routed.
It was dead silent as he and his son began their long march up the stairs with everyone watching.
Lord and Lady Tremaine met them to exchange a farewell as good hosts.
Lady Tremaine looked caught between horror and delight—such public contretemps was not her style, but her ball was going to be the talk of the Season after this.
A consummate hostess, the moment the marquess and his son disappeared from her ball, she had the musicians start again. And Kalina finally felt like she could fully breathe again.
She thanked her friends for their support and hugged her mother. Nathanial was doing the same. He and her father exchanged gruff nods.
When her father embraced her, Kalina felt her chest pang.
“I am sorry,” she whispered, knowing that was not the outcome he’d hoped for.
“I am not,” he whispered back, surprising her. “You are far more important to me than either of them.”
Very nearly brought to tears, Kalina pulled back and pushed a smile onto her lips. It would not do for Society to see her crying, not after such a resounding social triumph.
The Countess of Spencer came by to offer her very insincere apologies for interrupting their ‘conversation.’ Kalina rather liked the unusual woman, and it was clear that she and Lady Astrid were quite friendly with each other.
Then her husband returned to her side and offered his arm once again.
“My dear. May I have this dance?”
She looked up at him, wonderingly. She wanted to ask him if what he’d said about being a love match was true, but this was not the time nor the place. It would have to wait.
Putting her hand in his, she smiled up at him and let him lead her to the dance floor.
She whirled round the ballroom in his arms, happier than she’d ever been in her life, knowing that her friends and family were watching, some of them joining her and Nathanial on the dance floor. The people who truly mattered.
Her people.
Though she knew any chance for reconciliation with her father’s family was gone, somehow it did not matter. She felt free.
Happy.
Fate had ignored what she’d thought she’d wanted and given her what she needed instead.