Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

L avinia staggered away from the library, her legs barely holding her up now that she was away from the Duke and didn't have to pretend to be tough and uncaring about what had gone on between them in there.

Tears slid down her face and she wiped them away quickly, refusing to waste a single tear over that heartless rapscallion.

He had warned her that he would not touch her again, and she had foolishly thought that...

She made a choking sound, slapping a hand over her mouth. She couldn't go back into the ballroom. Not in the state she was in. She was sure her hair was a mess, but even worse she felt like she had been split from the middle and it was all her damn fault.

"Lavinia," Jenny's soft voice called and she turned slowly to face the shorter girl.

She didn't even have it in her to hide her ragged appearance.

"W-what happened?" Jenny rushed towards her, eyes wide, "Tell me this instant!"

"I cannot talk about it now, but I promise you, it is nothing. I was just foolish and I have come to my senses now," she gave her a wobbly smile.

"But-"

She clutched the girl's hand, eyes desperate, "please, help me find Noah. Tell him it is urgent that I leave at once. Tell him I am not feeling well or something like that. Will you help me?"

"Of course I will help you, you are my best friend, but do not think I shall let this go."

"Alright."

"There is a door right through there," the red headed girl pointed in the direction she had just come through, "it leads to the gardens at the back. From there, you can get into the carriage without being seen. Shall I tell Noah to find you there?"

"Yes. Thank you," she sniffled, "I will be most grateful."

Shooting her a narrowed eyed, worried look, Jenny hurried away, leaving her standing there alone and trying to quiet her raspy breaths. How could one go from feeling so much pleasure to being so wrecked?

Squaring her shoulders, she followed the direction her friend had showed her to the glass doors leading into the poorly lit garden. There was a couple at the balcony, but they were far too distracted with each other to notice her slipping away beneath them.

To her relief, her cousin was already there, pacing in tight circles as she appeared.

His eyes zeroed on her pale face and then her mussed up hair, "I am going to kill that good for nothing cad!"

Noah made to walk back into the building but she clutched his hand, panicked, "what do you think you are doing?"

"Defending your honor," he barked, eyebrows pulled down into a scowl.

"He has done nothing!" Except make it clear that no matter how far she so stupidly thought they had come, his unknown reasons for keeping her at arm's length still remained concrete.

"Then why do you look like that?"

She lowered her lashes, trying to buy herself some time to give him some version of the truth, but it only set off his fury again. "How dare he? Does he think that because he is a duke that he can get away with anything."

"Oh, Noah," she cried, "my virtue is still intact." Was it? She wasn't even sure anymore. "We merely kissed. That is all. I am simply shaken up by the torrent of emotions inside of me."

"You can fool Mother and everyone else, but you cannot fool me, Lavinia, " he scoffed, "I knew there was something amiss between you and the Duke from the very beginning and I know that he must have said or done something that-"

It was at that moment that she snapped. "If you do not believe me, then by all means, go in there and cause a ruckus and announce to the whole world what I have done in secret. Call out a duke and then kill him and be hanged for murder. Go on, Noah! Go and behave like a caveman whose property has been damaged. The Duke and I are set to marry, so what does it matter anyway?"

"It's a matter of honor and principle," he gritted out.

"I shall wait in the carriage while you go and defend my honor then," she stomped her way to the carriage, sick and tired of infuriating men and the entirety of society.

She would still marry the Duke but now she would allow him to keep to the rules of their arrangement, because she was the only one who seemed to be able to get hurt.

"What is the matter?" She met her aunt standing by the conveyance, shawl wrapped tight around her shoulder.

"You do not have to end your night on my behalf," she said without looking at her, "I think it might be the flu."

"The marquess enquired about you after you disappeared from the ballroom," it was as much a question as any. Where had she gone was the subtext and with whom?

Lavinia decided to take the statement as it had been rendered, "did he? How nice."

She had laughed too hard at everything he said and only used him for the sake of getting back at Victor. Her stomach churned at the knowledge that she had used someone so callously for her own selfish purposes.

And it was all because of the blasted duke.

This thing with him had the power to destroy innocent bystanders in its wake, but they were too far gone to end it.

Unless of course she was willing to face complete ruin and bring down the Hartfields along, and after all they had done for her, they didn't deserve to suffer for her harebrained decisions.

Mouth set in a firm line, she stared ahead unseeingly and stayed that way the entire journey back home.

Victor moved out of the library and out into the ballroom like a ghost, his mind racing with image upon image of her.

No matter what he told himself, he didn't succeed in erasing the taste and feel of her from his brain. The sounds she had made, he was afraid he would be replaying them for the rest of his life. The entire encounter with her in fact was going to be the sole subject of all his dreams going forward.

Why the bloody hell had he touched her tonight?

As soon as he caught sight of a flash of dark gold hair floating through the room, his mother in tow, he remembered why.

He had wanted to wipe the feel of the marquess's hands from her body, replace them with his until she couldn't remember anything about the man.

Had he succeeded? He didn't know.

It didn't matter anyway, he had acted like a right bastard and he had to apologize. But maybe not now, not when her taste was still so fresh in his tongue.

Never in his life had he lost control like that. For god sake he had almost taken her against that table like an animal, or like a light skirt, and not a lady that he planned to make his duchess.

No, he had to apologize this instant.

He searched the room for her frantically.

"If you are searching for your duchess, she's gone," Georgie appeared at his side, giving him a curious look.

"How do you know that?"

"I was just at the balcony and I saw her leave the house, her cousin was waiting for her with the carriage. Perhaps she had a headache."

Shame filled him. Because of him, she had had to escape like a disgraced woman, when earlier she had floated in like a beguiling vision in red, catching his eye and the interest of the rest of the room.

She should have been dancing her feet off right now, but instead...

"Have you seen Patrick?" he asked her.

The girl spluttered, "Why would you ask me? I am not his keeper. How am I to know where he is?"

If he hadn't been so distracted by the entire thing that had happened with Lavinia, he would have noted the guilty look in his sister's eyes and the way she was now trying to avoid his gaze.

"Where is Mother? I must take my leave."

"Is the ball no more fun with your lady love gone?"

He ignored her, "when you see Patrick, tell him to come around if he can."

Victor planned to drink himself to mindlessness, but it was pathetic even for him to drink alone. Maybe if he was drunk enough, he would have the guts to tell his friend about how irresponsible he had been.

Or maybe not.

The Viscount didn't know about the arrangement with Lavinia, neither did he know about the Duke's resolve to never fall in love and how he was now scrambling desperately to keep that resolve.

He hardly recognized himself these days and a small part of him wished Lavinia would do him the small mercy of ending the arrangement. That way, he would be free of all this.

Dragging a hand down his face, he wondered why he had been so averse to marrying one of his mother's selections. Lady Hannah might have been terribly dull, but at least she would never have made him so green with jealousy to the point of almost taking her innocence at a ball. It would have been easy for him to keep his hands off her. He would never have felt this ache.

"You are behaving rather strangely," Georgie peered at him, "are you alright?"

No, he thought. He wasn't and he didn't think he had been for the longest time, but he was finally brave enough to admit it to himself.

"If you'll excuse me." He walked away before she could get another word in.

He pushed past the throng of people in the room, gaze determinedly ahead of him. Everyone who watched him walk past saw the look in his eyes and decided that he wasn't to be approached, which was his intention. The Duke just wanted to get home, get a head start on clearing his mind of everything Lavinia related and have join him later.

"Georgie said you were in a bad mood, but I didn't believe her," his friend's voice said from behind him as he made to step into his gleaming black coach.

"Get in," Victor bit out and disappeared into the dark interior of the vehicle.

Patrick raised one brow in apparent surprise before joining the Duke, "What has got you in such a snit? Let me guess, her name begins with the letter L and rhymes with vanilla."

"Lavinia doesn't rhyme with vanilla."

"Ah," he smiled, "so it is her after all. Who would have guessed? The answer to that question, by the way, is anybody with half a working eye and anything but air between their ears."

At that moment, the carriage passed under a streetlamp and Victor was able to see the smile that stretched the other man's mouth. He was greatly tempted to put his fist into that smile and knock a few teeth loose. But then, he remembered that the man had nothing to do with his predicament.

If there was anyone who should be losing a few teeth, it should be him. He had been in his full senses when he had dragged her away from the dance floor and marched her to that study like a criminal being led to the guillotine. He even distinctly remembered Patrick trying to talk him out of his stupidity. He really should have listened.

"I need a drink," he finally said.

The viscount snorted, "You need several drinks my friend. I don't think one is going to do you any good," a pause, "I don't think several will help either come to think of it."

"You know what will help?" Victor drawled, "a round or two with you in the fighting ring."

The other man's smile died instantaneously. The Duke may have been a gentleman and the holder of one of the most ancient and powerful titles in the country, but in the ring, he was a beast. It had been long since the two men had gone against each other for some stress relief, and the Viscount was in no hurry to change that.

"I do hope you've got whiskey. Brandy is not going to cut it tonight," he conceded.

Victor chuckled, "What brewery owner worth his salt drinks bloody brandy?"