Page 6 of Duke of Pride

“I was going to say ridiculous,” Dorothy huffed. “Here, Victoria, see for yourself.”

Victoria read the letter Lord Prevost had sent to Stephen. She knew him. He was the next-door neighbor. It was a short letter that basically warned Stephen that his mother “had lately gotten involved with the wrong crowd.”

Her back straightened, and her fingertips slightly dug into the paper.

“Mother.” Stephen’s voice sent a chill through the room. “How could you have not told me about Miss Victoria living here? For almost a year, from what I gather.”

“Because, dear, I knew precisely how you would react.”

“And how, pray tell, is that?” His tone was clipped, though there was the faintest tick in his temple.

Somehow, Victoria found the fact that he was so tense was pleasing. It served him right for being so…

If she waited long enough, the word would for sure come.

Or perhaps it had better not.

“Like you are now, in fact?” Dorothy offered.

“Concerned and rational?”

“Absurd and irrational,” Dorothy dared.

“Mother, you are a duchess. Your household should reflect that dignity.”

“And it does.” Dorothy’s expression remained unchanged.

Victoria scoffed at that.

Stephen caught the faint sound and turned his attention to her. She felt the weight of his gaze pin her to her chair, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. The intensity seeped into her skin and down to her bones. But she was not going to cave just because he was looking at her with those ridiculously azure eyes of his.

“I am glad that you find it funny,” Stephen chastised as if she were an unruly subject before a magistrate.

Victoria’s breath caught at his tone, and then her anger flared.

“You disapprove of my presence, Your Grace?” she asked, lifting her chin. “And here I thought thepleasurewas mutual.”

Dorothy coughed delicately into her napkin, but Victoria saw the hint of amusement in her eyes.

Stephen’s gaze darkened. “You know precisely what I mean.”

“Oh, but I do not,” Victoria countered smoothly, tilting her head. “Please, do enlighten me. What is it about my presence that offends you so deeply?”

Stephen’s jaw ticked. Seeing him torn between propriety and the need to speak his mind as he saw fit was enough to sweeten her sour mood.

“Miss Victoria, surely evenyourecognize that your presence here invites speculation.”

“Do forgive me, Your Grace, but I hardly think the ton lies awake at night, whispering about whether or not the Dowager Duchess’s companion is causing scandal in her drawing room.”

“Lord Prevost seems to be doing exactly that.”

“So, that is what this is about?” she challenged. “A bitter, old man with too much time and too little entertainment writes you a letter, and suddenly I am a matter of concern?”

Stephen’s jaw tightened. Victoria’s nostrils flared. Neither backed down.

Dorothy watched in awe as if she didn’t believe such a scene was unfolding at her breakfast table.

“It is not just Lord Prevost. You must see how your presence here?—”