Chapter 25
“Caroline, my darling, look at you!” Nora Mason crowed.
Caroline barely had time to open her arms before her aunt leaped forward and hugged her tightly. Smiling, Caroline quickly recovered and hugged her aunt back with equal warmth.
“Aunty Nora,” she breathed. “I am so sorry I have not yet visited, I have just been so—”
“Pish posh, my dear, no need to apologize,” Nora hastily replied, untangling herself from their embrace. “I remember all too well what it was like as a newlywed woman and how busy I was adjusting to my new life and responsibilities. Now come, let me have a good look at you.”
Sheepishly, Caroline stepped back and let her aunt take a long look.
Jeremy had helped her design her gown for the night.
Together, they had chosen a coppery-red taffeta that made her complexion glow and brought out the rich earth tones of her eyes.
He also insisted on picking out the finishing touches himself, which is how she received the matching shoes and a golden necklace and earring set that glittered around amber stones.
One, Caroline could not help but notice, matched Damien’s eyes almost perfectly.
Finally, Jeremy had stayed close to Delia as she had styled her hair.
He had instructed that small braids be woven into her updo on each side of her head, and that a single long curl of her dark hair be left free over her right shoulder.
When she had looked in the mirror afterward, she had stood there in amazement.
She would have never chosen such bold colors herself, but she had to admit, it was the best she had ever looked.
Caroline had asked where he had learned such secrets of women’s fashion, but of course, he had responded with his usual jokes. She stifled a giggle presently, recalling some of the things he had said.
“Marvelous,” Nora finally said after her long moment of perusal. “Positively marvelous, my darling. You look exquisite, and may I add, rejuvenated.”
Caroline smiled sheepishly at her aunt’s praise and quietly thanked her.
“You truly do look magnificent, cousin,” Adrian praised as he and Bridget stepped up to Caroline next.
“Thank you, and thank you both for coming,” Caroline replied warmly. “It is so very good to see you both.”
“And you, darling,” Bridget returned, stepping up to give her a warm hug.
When she pulled back, Caroline noted the sparkle in her eyes before she whispered, “Nora is right, you know. You do look… invigorated. As if you have been born again somehow. I believe, despite your fears, this union has been good for you.”
Caroline worked to keep her smile from slipping, but as she did, she felt her heart somersault in her chest. It was only a couple of days, and thanks to Jeremy, she was finally ready to give her marriage a real chance, but it had not been long since Damien had tended to her bee sting that she had had a chance to see or talk to him.
No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to just miss him.
She could only hope that wherever he had been, he had finally returned and would be attending the ball.
It was, after all, being hosted in Jeremy’s honor, and she was sure that Damien would not miss it.
“Please,” Caroline urged, stepping aside. “Do come in and enjoy yourselves. I must play hostess a little while longer, but then I will come find you, and we will hopefully have a chance to have a proper conversation.”
Nora and Bridget each kissed her on the cheek, and Adrian gave her a quick hug.
Then the three of them headed toward the makeshift ballroom that now filled the large foyer, dining room, and main parlor.
For a moment, she watched them, smiling fondly at her family as they walked away, then turned back around to continue greeting her guests.
For the next little while, Caroline found herself doing something she had not done in a very long time. Enjoying herself.
The house looked magnificent. The flowers George had helped choose lined every surface, and the candlelight caught the gold trim of Jeremy’s chosen invitations, reflected now in the decorations throughout the room. She felt a swell of pride every time she looked at it.
Jeremy appeared at her elbow at one point, looking immaculate and entirely in his element.
“Smile,” he murmured into her ear. “You are the Duchess of Ravenshaw. Own it.”
She laughed. But she smiled.
And to her surprise, it was not difficult. The guests were warm and welcoming, and as the evening wore on, Caroline felt herself settle into her new role with an ease she had not expected. However, she found herself glancing toward the doorway rather more often than she intended.
He has not yet come down.
She was mid-conversation with one of Jeremy’s friends when she turned back toward the entrance and felt her smile and her heart drop at once.
What are they doing here?
“M-mother,” Caroline stammered, feeling her heart begin to slam into her chest as her panic rose. She blinked and drew in a shaking breath as she took in the other familiar face.
“Caroline.” Agatha’s voice was as breathy and icy as she remembered, and that single word had a chill creeping down Caroline’s spine and making her shiver.
“L-lilian,” she stammered, managing to bow her head in greeting. They both stared at her with narrowed, cold gazes, their mouths set in hard lines that betrayed the cheerful color of their gowns.
Jeremy had not invited them; she was sure of it. She had helped him with the guest list and must have looked at it at least a dozen times as they prepared for the ball.
“You look well,” Lilian stated, her tone just as cold as her mother’s.
They cannot hurt me here. I am a duchess. I am safe.
“Thank you,” Caroline said. “You look lovely as we—”
Agatha quickly grabbed Caroline’s wrist and pulled her further into the house, pressing her into the corner behind the door as Lilian disappeared.
“You stole all of this from Lilian,” Agatha hissed, her grip growing painfully tight as she shoved her face close to Caroline’s. “That was not part of our agreement.”
The cold breath of her stepmother on her face made Caroline’s stomach clench. But she was not six years old.
“You sent me away,” Caroline said, keeping her voice low and steady. “You made the agreement, not I. And when His Grace came to find me, I tried to refuse him. You cannot blame me for his persistence.”
Agatha’s eyes narrowed.
“You ungrateful wench! You owed me.”
“I owed you nothing,” Caroline replied. “I owed Lilian nothing. You made certain of that a long time ago.”
“You have been a very bad girl, Caroline,” Agatha seethed, cutting her off. “And I am certainly going to punish you for it. You stole your sister’s life, you ruined my plans. After all I have done for you, this is how you repay me?”
She let out a low laugh so wicked that it sent Caroline’s stomach into tight knots and had perspiration erupting over her forehead.
“You are going to pay for it. I am going to ruin you in front of everyone’s eyes, do you understand me?” Agatha questioned.
Caroline shook her head, willing her bravery to rise above her fear.
“Look at me,” Agatha demanded through gritted teeth.
“That little bastard you have in this house? The entire ton is soon going to know about him. They are going to know that the Duke of Ravenshaw fathered him, and they are going to know that you were the pathetic, social-climbing fool who let him humiliate you by having you raise his own bastard. And that is not all. Oh, not at all, that is just the beginning.”
“You will not threaten that child!” Caroline snapped, her bravery pushing through as she still refused to look at her mother.
She could feel Agatha’s fury rolling off of her in hot waves, making the small space hard to breathe. Still, she refused to give in.
“Look at me when I am talking to you!” Agatha seethed, “I said look—”
Caroline squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her stepmother’s cruel grip begin to curl painfully around her chin, but before she could fully clamp down, her hold vanished, and the sound of Damien’s low, feral tone spread a balm over her pounding heart.
“Do not dare touch my wife,” he snarled viscerally.
Caroline’s eyes snapped open, and she let out a breath of relief as she saw him standing next to Agatha, his hand wrapped firmly around her wrist and holding it up and away from Caroline’s face.
“Unhand me!” Agatha seethed, staring up into Damien’s eyes.
Damien looked down at her with an expression that made Caroline grateful she was not on the receiving end of it.
“You will leave this house,” he said quietly. “Now. And you will thank whatever good fortune you possess that there are guests within earshot, because I assure you, Mrs. Mason, if there were not, this conversation would be ending very differently.”
Agatha drew herself up.
“You would not dare—”
“Try me,” he said simply. “I am quite certain that you did not receive an invitation to this party,” he stated coldly. “Leave, or I will toss you out myself.”
Agatha continued to glare at him as she rubbed at her wrist.
“You are already on the path to ruin, Your Grace. Surely you do not want to expedite the journey by hurting a woman,” she answered coldly.
“Do not test my manners, Mrs. Mason, or you may find yourself woefully disappointed,” Damien countered, keeping his eyes on her as he moved between Agatha and Caroline, creating a wall of intimidating height and muscle between them.
“I have every right to be here! I am your mother-in-law! You will show me the respect that I deserve!” Agatha demanded, and to Caroline’s surprise, Damien let out a cruel chuckle.
“You are nothing, and your awful threats prove that,” he replied.
“So hear me very carefully, Mrs. Mason,” he said, his voice dropping low enough that only the three of them could hear it.
“If you ever come near her again, I will make certain that every shameful, desperate thing you have ever done becomes the only thing this city talks about. And I promise you, I am very good at making certain things are talked about.”
As he said so, the door blocking them into the corner swung open, and two footmen appeared with the most serious of expressions.
“Is all well, Your Grace?” one man asked.
“It seems there was some confusion, and this lady has shown up at the wrong estate,” Damien answered, still glaring down at Agatha. “Do help her make her way back outside. And make sure she stays outside.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the footman replied and stepped forward.
“Do not dare lay a hand on me, you lowly thing!” Agatha snapped as the footman reached for her arm. She turned back to Damien with another glare, but even as she did so, she took a step back.
“Mama,” Lilian called, appearing behind the footmen. “I think it is time for us to leave.”
“You will regret this,” she hissed as she stepped around the footmen and took Lilian’s hand.
“No,” Damien replied, watching her closely as she and Lilian moved backward. “But you will if you set foot back into this house or touch my wife again.”
“Come along, please,” the footman urged.
Damien kept his back to Caroline until Lilian and Agatha were out of sight. Then he turned to face her, and her racing heart slowed as she saw his eyes, only a second ago filled with rage, were now full of worry.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his deep voice unbearably soft. “Did she hurt you?”
Tears still stinging her eyes, Caroline shook her head.
“May I touch you?” he asked, slowly raising his hands.
Caroline nodded, feeling all of her pent-up emotions begin to well up to the surface.
She let out a stuttering breath as his large, warm fingers caressed over the place Agatha’s cruel grip had been only a moment ago, and she had to close her eyes to keep her tears from spilling.
She forced in deep breaths through her nostrils as she then felt his touch travel to her wrist, which still pulsed with pain.
“She did hurt you,” Damien rasped, cradling her wrist with great care.
Caroline opened her eyes just in time to watch him raise her wrist to his mouth, and she let out a stifled sob as he placed the most delicate kisses over the reddened skin. He stopped at once when he heard her cry, his brows furrowing with concern.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“No,” Caroline breathed, shaking her head. “It was just... that moment felt so... I just need to catch my breath and calm down before I help Jeremy with the party.”
“Jeremy will survive just fine on his own. Probably,” Damien comforted. “Come, let us get you upstairs and to some privacy.”
He moved to let go of her wrist, but just as his fingertips parted from hers, she reached for him and slid her hand into his.
Damien looked back at her, gazing down as if she had just surprised him with the most wonderful gift.
He offered her a small smile as he wrapped his fingers around hers, and then, without another word, quietly took her to her room.