Page 115 of His Duchess of Scandal
But then she returned her attention to Lord Grenford.
“My sister is innocent in all of this,” she insisted. “She, most of all, does not deserve this sort of revenge, Lord Grenford. Please—pleasejust let her return to the party, let her return to my other sister, and you will not again be bothered by the Wicklebys or the Branmeres.”
But she did not expect his eyes to fix on something behind her, forcing her gaze to flick over her shoulder.
Her heart stuttered at the sight of Isabella standing at the turn of the hedge wall. Her sister’s eyes were wide, taking in the scene, and she stepped forward protectively, as if wanting to go to Sibyl.
“Lord Grenford,” Isabella spoke up, “I believe you should step away from my sister. Heaven forbid that word spreads of you being a terrible bastard who does not know how to treat women right. Because Iwillmake sure that that story circulates around theton, unless you step back now.”
“Oh, Lady Isabella,” Lord Grenford drawled, his tone sending icy dread down Hermia’s spine. “You are mistaken, for thetonhave already said what they want to say about my name, about my family. I no longer care about status or reputation. The Duke of Branmere may have dragged his name out of the mud, but not all of us have been so lucky.”
Isabella looked towards Hermia in question. “I do not understand.”
“It is not for anyone else to understand,” Hermia said, looking at the Viscount.
But the two of them only made the man angrier. His expression contorted with ire, his mouth curling, but nothing could have prepared Hermia for when he reached for her younger sister’s skirt. The awfulripof fabric made her shudder, made her freeze for a moment.
“Stop,” she commanded.
“Oh—oh, dearDuchess, I willnot.” Lord Grenford sneered her title, laughing darkly,. “Your father-in-law ruined my sister. Did you know that? It only seems fitting that I ruin a lady from your family.”
“Lord…” Her soft, weak voice tapered off at a hard glare from him.
But the Viscount onlytore, and he torehard.
Hermia let out a whimper.
“When thetonhears of how Lady Sibyl—the lady who holds out for love—has ruined herself with Lord Grenford, there will be an uproar, I am certain. And with such a torn skirt, I will not be questioned, no? Finally, thetonwill believe that the Grenfords are the innocent party in all of this.”
“No,” Sibyl moaned. “No,Lord Grenford.Please—please stop. Please—please.”
“Lord Grenford,” Hermia almost sobbed, breaking apart at the sound of her sister’s pain. Heavens, she should not have had to plead in such a way. She should not have felt so much fear. “Please leave her out of this.Please.”
“Then shall I take you, Lady?—”
Hermia was in his face in an instant, her concern ebbing away long enough for her to raise her hand. She was not entirely in control of herself when she smacked him hard across the face.
Her hand connected with his face, and it snapped to the side.
“No one,” she seethed. “No one,no matter how empathetic I am with their story, hurts my family.No one, do you hear me, Lord Grenford?”
But she did not anticipate her wrist being snagged in the harshest grip possible, sending a shiver of revulsion through her. Yet, revenge contorted his face.
Hermia wished to step out of his reach, but she could not. Not when he was gripping her so hard.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the Viscount. Hermia did not realize she had been released, saved by the newcomer, until she finally stumbled back into Isabella. But her eyes fell on the figure—on the man who had the Viscount pinned up against the hedge by a hand around his throat.
A snarl rippled through the maze, and Hermia’s eyes snapped to her husband—toCharles, who held the Viscount up, his hand tightening to a white-knuckled grip.
Despite her week of heartache, the sight of her husband rolling his neck in preparation for a fight sent a shiver through her.
Suddenly, the Duke of Branmere punched Lord Grenford hard enough to make him stagger.
“If youevercome near my family again,” Charles snarled, “near my wife, or my daughter, or even my sisters-in-law, or my homes, then Iwilldestroy you, Grenford. You are not welcomenear anything or anyone associated with me, and I do believe I have made that clear enough before.”
For a second, Hermia could only gape at him, at the sheer command he showed. Heat burst through her—heat andwarmth, both sensual and affectionate at once. It was overwhelming for a moment, so much that she didn’t know what to do with it.
“Leave, Grenford. I will not warn you again,” Charles growled. “Leave my wife, and leave my sisters-in-law—leave usallalone.”
