Waterfall(7)
“No!” Ilmir’s fingers dug into his flesh. “Not until I have you in a carriage. She will not disappear, Jordan. I assure you.” He laughed a mocking chuckle and yanked him through an open door. “She is a duchess.” He kicked the door closed with the heel of his boot.
“To hell, Ilmir.” His angry words smoked out of his mouth and singed the fabric on Ilmir’s coat. Damn smoke. He’d just breathed smoke. He stared at the lightly glowing spot on Ilmir’s sleeve, and his eyes widened. He had never done that before.
“Quite so. Hell has had me and enjoys my flavor.” The sleeve of Ilmir’s coat puffed, smoldering. “Now listen and listen well, brother. That there”—Ilmir pointed back into the ballroom—“is the Duke of Hudson. This is his home. If we slight him, we have no remaining allies in London. Do you understand?” Ilmir brushed at the singed fabric and continued to stare at him as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Of course Jordan knew where they were. But— Bloody hell! She was his! His! “Ilmir.”
“Control yourself. You cannot do this badly.”
Jordan’s fists shook in anger. “As if you should give that guidance. You have never thought of anyone but yourself!”
Ilmir nodded. “Correctly stated. And you have seen the consequences. Be the good whelp you always are. Or go your own path and we all fall.”
“Fall? We can’t fall.” But Ilmir was correct about one thing. Confronting her here in front of a room full of people when he was uncertain of his body’s changes was a poor plan. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He needed her alone. And now.
A nervous laugh escaped Celeste’s lips as the immense man before her was dragged across the ballroom by another man almost as large. Goodness. What a spectacle.
“Make haste!” A woman’s sultry voice heard only in her head pierced her ears.
Celeste flinched. The red wine she held in the intricately carved crystal glass sloshed up the edge and spilled down her dress, splattering on the floor. Not again. This was one of the most important days of her life, and she had gone daft, hearing voices once more. She stared down at the red wine now spreading like blood across her new pink silk. She was the spectacle once more.
Celeste dug her fingers into her grandmum’s forearm to steady herself. When would this madness stop?
“Are you well, dear?” Grandmum’s brown gaze, filled with compassion and warmth, met hers.
Celeste glanced into the crowd in the direction of the man who had knelt before her so ardently, and shook her head. No, not at all. How did she admit that her legs trembled from what had just occurred? That her heart raced? She didn’t. She couldn’t. Not really. Not ever out loud.
Truth be told, she had not one inkling of what that man was about.
She stared at the blue-eyed man as his brother dragged him out into the parlor and shut the enormous wood door. She swallowed hard. What man—let alone a mysterious, oddly attractive giant—would fall before her in such an impassioned manner? Even for the new duchess, the display was over the moon.
Still worse was that her reaction had nothing to do with the fact he had alluded to her incident. She bit her lower lip. No, be truthful, Celeste. He had said, “You survived,” which implied that he knew she’d woken up on a deserted shore alone, with her dress torn to rags. If the duke found out…
It would only be a short time before he learned she had no knowledge of how she’d gotten there, or of the marks on her neck, and of the voice in her mind.
Her father’s angry voice as the family physician examined her still lingered in her head. “The family will be cast out if you speak of this madness to anyone. His Grace will not have you. I will not have another word about it. You will do your duty.” He had even gone so far as to have her maidenhood verified. When she had asked him to search for her aunt, he had slapped her cheek so hard that the sting lingered for hours.
Chills swept up her spine in a wave. Thank the stars it had not left a bruise on her face.
She ripped her gaze from the now-closed door to her husband.
The duke stood the shortest of the group of men who gathered to tease him and congratulate him on obtaining his second wife.
She inhaled deep, sighed and closed her eyes. The way that man had stared at her… Blue eyes that she swore rippled like the water of the sea. Heat coiled about her body, and she shivered. Gracious. Hudson did not regard her in the same manner. Nor did the simple thought of his eyes cause the same intense physical reaction. She shifted her stance in an attempt to relieve the discomfort building in her core.