Page 97 of Project Duke

Looking positively regal, William rode on a beautiful tall brown thoroughbred. He stopped the horse abruptly when his dark eyes connected with hers, his expression growing very, very cold. Argos kept barking and growling at the man, and his horse got nervous, prancing and rolling its eyes.

“Duchess of Kelford,” he said as he looked at her. “Duchess of Grandhampton,” he greeted Penelope. “Lady Seaton.”

He lingered, the face Calliope had thought long ago to be so handsome, so irresistible…now showing her what he truly was.

A coward.

Something was odd about him. He had said Seaton with a slow slur of the S. His eyelids were heavy. He swayed slightly in the saddle. His hair was disheveled, and not just windswept but positively tangled.

His gaze went over her and stopped at her chest. She didn’t wear her spencer today because of the heat. Neither did her sisters-in-law. But, unlike any of the meetings before, when she had dreaded the very memory of him, of his fingers reaching for her neck, of that one word, “whore,” that had made her cower and tighten up in a little, weeping ball…

She felt nothing.

Not the burning of that spot over her collarbone. Not the heat of shame that the very sight of him brought. Not the word itself that had made her feel dirty and like she was all wrong. Who would love such a whore as she? Who would want such an odd woman who was supposed to be all grace and poise and manners but, instead, hunted for danger? Protected her loved ones. Uncovered mysteries.

And enjoyed herself in her marital bed with her husband…sometimes feeling like a whore with him…and loving it.

“Huntingham,” said Calliope, stepping forward and staring straight into his eyes.

Drunk, she thought. He was drunk!

“I hope your husband is well and your matrimony serves you well,” he said, his eyes still lingering on her chest.

Previously, that lingering would have brought her shame, had her face flaming.

No more.

He had no power over her anymore.

“Get away from my sister!”

She turned around to see Preston running towards them, fury written across his handsome face. “I told you to never come near her again!”

“I was just leaving,” said William, but before he could spur his horse, Calliope grabbed its reins.

“No,” she said and turned to Preston. “Thank you, brother. One day I will tell you the true story of what happened, and you will understand. Then, it was Spencer who protected me. Just a couple weeks ago it was Nathaniel and you.” She looked straight into the dark eyes of the man to whom she had given far too much attention and power for years. “And now, it is me.”

As both her brothers froze, she turned to William. How small he looked to her now, even sitting on his horse, so tall and mighty. How could she ever think he was anything more than tragic? He visibly shrank under her gaze.

She squared her shoulders. She knew had Nathaniel been here, he’d applaud her. She wished he could see this. She was free from William. From the power he had held over her.

She actually wanted to go back and reread Villains and Velvet. There were a few scenes she would have liked to try with Nathaniel.

“William,” she said with her biggest smile. “I pity you, dear boy.”

He glared at her but said nothing.

“I pity you,” she repeated. “Calling a young girl what you called me during a very vulnerable moment few get to see. And yet you caught me… It must have been quite a shock to you, feeling what you did then, wasn't it?”

He swallowed hard, and his eyes bulged, but he said nothing—which told her she must be quite right.

“Did you want to marry me because you wanted to understand that forbidden thing you felt when you saw me?”

Silence fell around her. She was very aware of several pairs of eyes on her, that she was letting her family in on something extremely private—something she should have told her parents about back then. Her mama, at least.

She was not ashamed anymore. There was nothing to be ashamed about.

“You made me feel like dirt,” she said. “You destroyed years of my life when I thought I was not worthy, not lovable for who I was.”