Page 34 of The Duchess and the Beast
Suddenly, the deeper implications of his words struck her. Virtue’s eyes widened in sudden alarm, and she quickly turned to ensure that no one was within earshot.
“You need to leave,” she hissed at him.
He scoffed. “Oh, do not be so dramatic, Virtue. I only wish to talk. Surely, you can grant me that much?”
“Lord Prescott.” Her tone was firm, betraying no room for negotiation.
“Aaron,” he corrected, leaning a touch closer. “I was always Aaron to you.”
Virtue almost scoffed. Again, she glanced at the foyer. “I must insist you leave the grounds. Now!”
“Why? Afraid your husband might see us?” he chortled, his confidence bordering on arrogance. “Please, I am quite capable of handlinghim. From what I have heard, he does not much like people, anyhow. Where is he, then? Cooped up in his chambers, I presume?” Another smug bout of laughter.
“Try right behind you.” The rumble of her husband’s deep voice had Virtue’s hair standing up on end. Yet it was nothing compared to the stark pallor that overtook Lord Prescott’s face.
His posture stiffened. His eyes widened. And with a slow, deliberate motion, he turned to find Sebastian standing directly behind him.
It was funny. Virtue had always perceived Lord Prescott as a formidable figure—an influential man with a domineering presence. And where his presence fell away, his wealth stretched far beyond. However, confronted by her husband now, Lord Prescott’s stature seemed to diminish—he appeared more like a mouse caught in the formidable gaze of a lion.
“Y-Your Grace,” the man stammered before straightening. “I did not see you there.”
“Prescott, is it?” He stalked toward Lord Prescott, putting himself mere inches before the man. The stark difference in stature was only emphasized more the closer he got. Sebastian appeared like a mountain before him.
“It is Lord—That… that’s right.”
“And may I inquire what business you have in my home? Speaking alone with my wife? Or should I simply guess?”
“I was… I was just—” Lord Prescott’s tone faltered, clearly unnerved and struggling to say anything coherent under Sebastian’s intense scrutiny.
“He was just passing by,” Virtue hurried to explain for him. “And he was just leaving. Weren’t you?” She arched a brow at the man.
Lord Prescott looked for a moment like he might deny the statement. But one quick glance at Sebastian, the sheer savagery that radiated off him as if one wrong word spoken might see him lift Lord Prescott from the ground and tear his head right from his shoulders, and he seemed to think better of it.
“That is correct.” He straightened and attempted to imbue himself with some semblance of command. “As the lady says, I was simply in the neighborhood and, having heard of the wedding, I thought I might pay my respects. That is all.”
“Consider them paid,” Sebastian muttered darkly.
“Yes, well…” He glanced at Virtue for assistance, but she offered him none. “The two of you look very…” He swallowed. “Happy. I am glad to see it.”
“Make sure you pass it along,” Virtue beamed, enjoying the way Lord Prescott shook in his boots.
“I shall do just that.” He nodded once, again straightened his spine, and then forced a smile which was a sickly thing. “Good day to both of you and, ah… thank you for your hospitality.”
Sebastian stepped to the side and indicated for Lord Prescott to walk on by. Which he did do, seeming to skulk by her husband’s hulking mass. A pitiful display, Virtue thought, one in which Lord Prescott very much came out looking all the weaker. Something she could never have imagined from the man.
Saying nothing, the two watched as he reached his horse, climbed on top, and then rode from the estate, not once looking back. It was a strange display, from start to finish, and where Virtue might have liked to have wondered further at what in the heavens had just happened and why, she felt her husband’s steely eyes on her suddenly and all thoughts of Lord Prescott fled her.
Virtue faced him, her gaze wide and trembling, dreading his reaction. She was certain it would be one of anger, and not the kind that had an undercurrent of affection or sultriness. “I have no idea what he was doing here,” she rushed to explain in a single breath.
He regarded her intently for a moment. No. Longer. So long, in fact, that she felt herself begin to sweat. And then, most curiously, a smile crept up the side of his face. “I would be surprised if you did.”
She blinked, taken aback. “You believe me?”
“Of course,” he replied, holding that smile. “From the looks of things, you are even more surprised by his presence than I.”
“I am!”
“And seeing him again?” he continued, his smile slowly fading, though he made an effort to appear as nonchalant as ever. “Is he as you remember?”