Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“God, he looks so pompous,” Cedric muttered, sipping from his glass of brandy as he watched Sylvester move through the crowd. “I wonder how many women he has ruined?”
Godric turned from the bar empty-handed and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he, too, set his gaze on Sylvester.
“I would wager the number is high,” Godric murmured. “My sources tell me that he has attended many auctions. Maybe not all at the same house, but he has a penchant for the ‘slave girl’ fantasy, it seems. I have received word that he has even arranged a few himself.”
Cedric’s lips curled in disgust. He might have been a rake, but he’d never made a woman feel as if she owed him sexual favors.
Truly disgusted with the man before him, Cedric turned his eyes away and quickly found his Deborah.
He was surprised and relieved to see her smiling and talking excitedly with another woman in an awfully gaudy gown of flowers.
His lips twitched toward a smile as he settled into watching her, and he felt the rest of his disgust fade away.
“You grow distracted, old friend,” Godric murmured.
Cedric chuckled.
“She does distract me,” he admitted, “In the most wonderful ways.”
Beside him, Godric tsked his tongue.
“Careful, you are starting to sound like a man in love,” he warned.
“Please,” Cedric chuckled, shaking his head as he kept his eyes on Deborah, “I am a man in lust. She is driving me wild. She does the most seductive things, and the thing is, I do not even believe she realizes what she is doing.”
“Right,” Godric grunted, “Lust. Sure, old friend.”
Cedric rolled his eyes, ready to ask Godric what he was going on about, when suddenly Deborah’s cheerful expression fell as she looked away from the woman in the loud gown. His brows furrowed, wondering what had happened, and his gut tightened as he followed her line of sight.
He shook his head, as if she could see him do so even though he knew better, and took a step away from the bar.
“What is it?” Godric asked.
“She has seen Fairborne,” Cedric replied, watching Deborah’s every step.
“So? It is not as if she would do anything here,” Godric said blandly. “We are at a ball, for heaven’s sakes.”
Cedric didn’t reply, too busy watching Deborah reach up to her hair. The glint of steel had his heart racing, and as he muttered a curse, he moved, abandoning Godric to make his way through the large crowd.
Don’t. Not here! He thought, sliding between small gaps in the throng of bodies as his heart hammered faster. Sweat broke out on his brow as he reached her, and just as her dagger came into view, he gripped his hand tightly around hers, forcing her to let it go so that it dropped into his sleeve.
He let out a breath as the cool metal of the small dagger slid over his skin, concealed now by his shirt and jacket. He glanced around, and it seemed no one noticed what Deborah had just held or saw the intent of her actions.
“Murder is not a good look for you, darling,” Cedric whispered into her ear, feeling her rage vibrating off of her as he pressed his body tightly to hers. “What do you say we dance instead?”
He caught her hands as she whirled around, stopping her from making any more of a scene, and twirled her onto the dance floor.
“Let go of me,” she hissed, her green eyes shining with rage.
“Not going to happen,” he murmured, feigning a smile as he gripped her tightly and led her into the dance steps.
“What did you think you were going to do?” He whispered, “Stab him in front of all of these people? Then what?”
Deborah cast a glare toward Sylvester, who was obviously oblivious to how close he’d come to death.
He was far too wrapped in flirting with the young woman he was dancing with- a woman, Cedric noted, who looked barely old enough to be on the marriage mart in the first place. His nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Then I would have revenge,” Deborah hissed, “For me. For Hester!”
“And what would happen after?” Cedric asked, leading her into the next step. “You would go to prison for murder or a noble. Possibly even hang!”
He cleared his throat, catching his voice reaching a dangerously loud volume, and willed himself to calm down.
“You cannot do that,” he said through gritted teeth, then sent her into a twirl.
“Why not?” Deborah whispered, coming back to him, “I have nothing left of me but this rage!”
Cedric gripped her hands and raised them above their heads as the dance invoked, and leaned in close until his lips were almost touching hers.
“You have me,” he gritted out, moving her to the left, then to the right. “I am trying to be your ally. You do not have to take this burden on your own anymore.”
Deborah chortled.
“I do not have you,” she practically spat.
Hurt laced through Cedric’s chest, but he ignored it. If that was how she felt, he could not blame her. He had just confessed to Godric that he was not in love with her, after all.
“If not for me, then Adeline,” he whispered, wrapping his arm behind her back to move her into the next steps. He watched as some of the anger in Deborah’s eyes dwindled, and he took his opening.
“That girl is coming alive because of you,” he whispered, “Do not make her lose another mother.”
The lingering anger in Deborah’s eyes extinguished in a second and was quickly replaced by guilt.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, faltering in her steps.
Cedric caught her immediately, pulling her effortlessly into the final steps of the dance.
“I am sorry,” she whispered, tears welling in her green eyes, “I did not think…I just…felt.”
“I know,” Cedric replied, then drew in a calming breath, relieved that he got through to her. “I know. And it is alright. We will find another way to make Fairborne pay. I promise you.”
The music ended then, and as they bowed to one another, Cedric’s heart throbbed in pain as he watched a tear escape down Deborah’s face.
He was stepping up to her in the next instant, brushing the tear off her cheek with a kiss.
The crowd around them let out an audible awe, as if they had just witnessed the sweetest thing.
“I am tired,” Deborah whispered, slowly lifting her lashes. Her green eyes still sparkled with tears, and he could feel the exhaustion in her voice.
“As am I,” he agreed, pulling her into his side. “We have done enough this evening. Let us go home.”
Deborah only nodded, and she let him hold her to his side as they walked. He gave false, charming smiles as he moved through the crowd, warding off any questions. To them, they just appeared as a dutiful husband and tired wife, a modest woman who was far too delicate to dance into the late night.
Once outside, Cedric helped her into their carriage, and she slumped forward and held her head in her hands as he climbed into the seat across from her.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head, “I almost ruined everything. For you. For Adeline. My entire family. I just…When I saw him, all of this rage just came barreling forth, and I was consumed with it.”
“What matters is you did not ruin anything,” Cedric countered, squeezing her wrists gently. “You let me stop you, Deborah. A part of you knew you needed to stop. That was the voice you listened to; that is what is important.”
Deborah sniffled, then raised her head as the carriage began to move.
“What if you had not seen what I was about to do?” She asked, looking utterly lost in her sadness. “How would you have explained this to Adeline?”
“I do not have to,” Cedric said with a shrug. “You stopped, Deborah. And tomorrow, you will be there for her just as you promised.”
“Tomorrow,” she sighed, as if remembering something. “I promised I would take her to the gardens since she could not come with us tonight. Oh, she would have been devastated!”
“Well, now she will not be,” Cedric said with a shrug.
Deborah looked at him, the need for comfort so apparent in her eyes that he could not deny it.
He moved to the seat beside her and lifted his arm, and without any insistence from him, Deborah sagged into him.
He nuzzled his chin over the top of her head, letting the quiet stretch as the carriage took them home.
“I had told Adeline that we would take Grace tomorrow,” Deborah said after a while, “However, would you consider coming with us instead?”
Cedric looked down at her, unsure.
“Deborah, I do not know,” he said tentatively, watching her raise her weary gaze to his, “Adeline is making progress, but to spend an entire day with her might undo all you have done to bring us together.”
“Please?” Deborah begged, clutching at his jacket, “What if I see him again? He seems so…untouched, unbothered by all he has done. What if my anger takes control again?”
Cedric was silent as he considered her words.
It was unlikely that a man like Sylvester would want to visit the conservatory, especially in the daylight.
However, if he were pursuing a woman, he doubted the man would mind putting on a show.
He also did not like the idea of Deborah coming face-to-face with Sylvester alone.
Even if her rage did not take over, it was obvious that his presence would have an effect on her.
“Very well,” he relented.
Deborah’s relief was instant as she sagged into him again.
“Thank you,” she whispered, nuzzling into his side.
He moved to stroke her cheek, and it was then that he felt the hard steel of the blade, still trapped in his sleeve. He removed it and held it up for both of them to see.
“This is quite the deviant little blade,” he mused, turning it in his hand, “Disguised as a hairpin. I must confess the design is quite clever. However, I think there is something you should know about it.”
“Oh?” Deborah asked, sounding exhausted, “What is that?”
“This would have certainly disrupted his evening, but it would not have given you the desired effect. It is far too small to be a murder weapon,” he explained. “It is quite literally an oversized pin.”
To his surprise and relief, Deborah let out a small, tired laugh.
“I think you should hold onto it,” she replied. “At least for now. You are right. There is another way to make Sylvester pay. An oversized pin is not the answer to my problems.”
With a nod, Cedric slid the blade back into his sleeve as the carriage came to a stop.
“I will keep it safe until you ask me for it,” he promised, and then led them inside, both in need of sleep.