Page 19 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke (The Athena Society #3)
So, she favored them with a serene smile and said, “Lord Comerford’s presence hardly concerns me. That was a very long time ago.”
“Of course, dear,” Lady Helen agreed readily. “Though one does wonder what might have been, doesn’t one? If he hadn’t decided to marry another so precipitously after returning from his military service. Still, his loss was certainly His Grace’s gain.”
“Indeed,” Lady Pennington added with a knowing look, “though I’m sure it must have been quite the blow to your pride at the time. Being abandoned so publicly, only to see him wed another within months of his return.”
Samantha felt her composure beginning to crack, the familiar shame and humiliation of Adam’s betrayal washing over her despite the years that had passed.
She knew they were deliberately digging in her wound, sniffing after a reaction from her, but she held back with great restraint, so much so that her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her fan, desperate for something to occupy them.
“Ladies,” a familiar voice said smoothly behind her, and suddenly Ewan’s arm was sliding around her waist with possessive warmth. “I trust you’re not monopolizing my wife’s attention too severely.”
The relief that flooded through Samantha at his presence was almost overwhelming. She leaned into his solid warmth without thinking, feeling his arm tighten around her. She was so relieved that she forgot her turbulent emotions where he was concerned.
At least, for this moment.
“Your Grace,” Lady Cromwell simpered, “we were just congratulating Her Grace on your marriage.”
“How thoughtful,” Ewan replied, his voice carrying just enough chill to make the women shift uncomfortably. “Though I hardly think congratulations are necessary. I’m quite obviously the fortunate one in this arrangement.”
His free hand came up to cover hers where it rested on his arm, his thumb stroking gently across her knuckles in a gesture of intimate reassurance where they could clearly see.
“My wife possesses both beauty and intelligence in equal measure,” he continued, his voice warming as he gazed down at her. “A combination rarer than diamonds and infinitely more precious.”
The three women exchanged glances, their earlier malice replaced by obvious envy at the clear affection in Ewan’s tone.
“How… romantic,” Lady Helen managed weakly.
“Indeed,” Ewan agreed, pressing a soft kiss to Samantha’s temple that made her breath catch. “If you’ll excuse us, I believe I promised my wife a turn about the room.”
He guided her away with practiced ease, leaving the three gossips staring after them with expressions of frustrated disappointment.
“Thank you,” Samantha whispered once they were out of earshot, her voice slightly unsteady.
“There’s no need to thank me for defending my wife,” Ewan replied quietly, though she caught the underlying tension in his voice. “Those harpies have nothing better to do than run their wrinkled mouths.”
That last quip shocked a laugh out of her, but before she could respond in kind, a familiar voice called out from across the room.
“Oh! My dear Samantha! How wonderful to see you.”
Samantha’s blood turned to ice as Adam Graston, Earl of Comerford and the man she’d once loved dearly, approached with a petite brunette on his arm.
He looked exactly as she remembered: tall, handsome in a conventional way, with the same easy smile that had once made her heart race.
“Lord Comerford,” she managed, her voice admirably steady despite the way her pulse hammered against her throat.
But it was not from any pleasant emotion, that much was certain.
No, in fact, she seemed to be fighting the urge to launch herself at him and claw out his eyes.
Or perhaps tear out those lying lips of his.
But she did nothing of the sort, letting the emotions blaze and die out inside her chest, instead.
It would be far from gracious and ladylike to lash out here, over something that has long since passed. She had no intention of disgracing either herself or the Duke of Valemont this evening.
“It has been a long while since we have crossed paths, isn’t it?” He said, speaking far too familiarly with her, considering their relationship now.
Which was to say, they had no such relationship of familiarity anymore.
“Yes, fortunately,” she replied, unable to resist the jab, and she heard her husband’s very soft chuckle beside her.
Of course, Adam had his head so far up his derriere that he failed to notice the insult. “Please, allow me to present my wife, Lady Comerford,” he said with the same casual charm he’d always possessed. “My dear, this is Lady Samantha, an old friend of mine.”
“ Her Grace . She is the Duchess of Valemont.” Ewan spoke for the first time since Lord Comerford waylaid them, and Samantha’s breath caught in her throat at the strain of possessiveness she could hear in his voice.
Adam blinked then, as if just realizing that she had a man beside her in the first place. “Ah, Your Grace, what do you …?”
“You will refer to her as Her Grace.” Ewan continued, tone final. “She is my duchess. You have no right to refer to her so familiarly, good sir.”
She saw the flash of irritation in Adam’s eyes before it was swiftly replaced by an innocent gaze. “My apologies, Your Grace! I did not realize that I was being too familiar. You know, seeing as we were… close friends for a long time.”
Samantha felt Ewan’s arm tighten around her as he replied in an icy tone, “And you are ‘close friends’ no longer. Know your place, sir.”
The silence that stretched between them was short but very uncomfortable. But Samantha found that she did not dislike it. Not at all. In fact, she rather reveled in watching Adam and his wife squirm under the cold regard of her husband.
“My… my deepest apologies, Your… Your Grace.” Adam finally bowed, though she caught the way his jaw ticked before he lowered his head.
His wife followed suit before quickly lifting her head to regard Samantha again.
“Your Grace,” the brunette said sweetly, though her eyes were sharp with curiosity. “How lovely to meet you. My husband has mentioned you, of course.”
“How kind,” Samantha replied, though she felt Ewan’s arm tighten almost imperceptibly around her waist. “May I present my husband, the Duke of Valemont?”
“Your Grace,” Adam said, extending his hand with a confidence that belied the hostility she could see brewing behind his gaze. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Ewan’s acknowledgment was coolly polite but distant, his handshake brief and perfunctory. “Lord Comerford. Lady Comerford.”
“I do hope you’re finding London agreeable,” Lady Comerford continued brightly. “We’ve heard such wonderful things about your estate in Hampshire.”
“Valemont Hall is indeed beautiful,” Samantha replied, though she could feel the tension radiating from Ewan’s frame like heat from a forge.
“We must call upon you soon,” Adam said with his practiced smile. “For old times’ sake.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Samantha felt rather than saw Ewan’s jaw tighten. It was clear in the way his entire body had become one rigid line.
“How thoughtful,” Ewan replied with deceptive mildness, “though I’m afraid we’ll be returning to Hampshire quite soon. The estate requires our attention.”
“Of course,” Adam agreed easily. “Perhaps another time.”
“Indeed,” Ewan said, then glanced toward the far end of the room with apparent concern. “If you’ll excuse us, I believe I should check on my nephew.”
He guided Samantha away before either Adam or his wife could respond, his hand warm and steadying at the small of her back.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly as they made their way through the crowd.
“Perfectly fine,” she lied, though her voice came out more breathless than she’d intended.
They found Percy holding court near the pianoforte, surrounded by a small group of wide-eyed debutantes who were hanging on his every word with rapt attention.
“—and so Persephone, trapped in the underworld by Hades’ dark passion, could only return to the world of light for half the year, which is why we have the changing seasons. Rather romantic when you think about it, the way love can literally reshape the natural world?—”
“Dear nephew,” Ewan interrupted smoothly, “there you are. I was just telling Her Grace how much you’ve been enjoying the musical performances this evening.”
Percy blinked in confusion for a moment before catching his uncle’s meaningful look. “Oh yes, indeed! The music has been quite exceptional.”
As the conversation shifted to safer ground, Samantha felt some of the evening’s tension begin to ease, though she remained acutely aware of Ewan’s protective presence beside her.
And she didn’t mind it at all.