Page 114 of Pride: The Rogue
Livian recoiled.
“Precisely, Miss Lovelace,” the duchess exclaimed; the lady’s graceful strides grew quicker. “You share my outrage. And as kindhearted as you are, Miss Lovelace, I know what you are thinking.”
The regal noblewoman couldn’t, as Livian herself couldn’t put a single, rationale thought together around the incessant humming in her ears.
“Your Grace?” Livian’s voice emerged distant, far, and weak.
“The gall of each and every one of thesedistinguishedpeers,” she hissed, slashing a hand about. “They will accept my invitation and be recipients of my hospitality and yet would denigrate Mr. Latimer, the man I will make my husband?”
The widow fairly hummed with an outraged energy.
A buzzing filled Livian’s ears. She gripped the side of the pianoforte to keep from collapsing.
I will not survive this.
Livian’s face buckled, right along with her heart, soul, and stomach, and she gave thanks the duchess’ rage had become so inwardly directed.
Lachlan’s business—the business he hadn’t clarified—that he needed to see to, suddenly made sense.
“But you are not that way, Miss Lovelace,” the duchess’ soft praise recalled Livian from the perch of despair she hovered upon. “As such, you have my apologies for my displaced anger when you entered the breakfast room. I trust Mr. Latimer and I may count on your support.”
You have to say something, anything.
The duchess gave her a hesitant look. “I know, given hispursuits,you may not feel entirely comfortable, Miss Lovelace…”
Livian had to say something, if for no other reason than to end this torturous exchange, so she might find a corner and lick her wounds.
Livian found her voice. “Indeed, you may. You have only shown me kindness and grace. Even if you hadn’t, I still would not judge Mr. Latimer.” She made herself smile and forced a lightness she’d never again feel. “The gentlemen Idofind wanting are the very guests who’d cast aspersions upon Mr. Latimer, though they are most certainly members of his club or other similarly scandalous ones.”
Her Grace drew back. “Hmm. I had not considered that.” A smile built slowly on the duchess’ full lips. “You’ve given me something to think about, Miss Lovelace.”
Livian’s throat worked uncomfortably. “Defending him as you do, you must love Mr. Latimer a great deal,” she said, thickly, hating herself. Hating Lachlan more. Just days ago, he’d made love to Livian like she was the only woman in the world.
“Love him?” The duchess laughed like Livian had told a jest to rival the Great Bard’s. Her radiant eyes twinkled. “No, mydear. When you reach my years and experience, you come to realize the rarity of love.”
Then why are you marrying him?she silently screamed.Why, when I ardently love him and yearn for him, and would lay my life down for his happiness, shouldyouget to have him?
Perhaps that desperation accounted for Livian’s unwitting entreaty. “But…do you not believe, Your Grace, that in joining yourself forever with one whom you do not love, you are doing your heart and Mr. Latimer’s heart great injury.”
“I did not say I do not believe in love,” Latimer’s future wife corrected.
Confounded, Livian shook her head.
“I loved once and lost mightily, Miss Lovelace,” the duchess gently explained. Pain etched the corners of Her Grace’s eyes. “And one only hasonegreat, true love,” she said thickly. “Would you not agree?”
Yes. “I…cannot say with any certainty, Your Grace.”
The duchess flashed a sagacious smile. “I respect Mr. Latimer. I admire him.” She paused. “I definitelydesirehim.”
Bile climbed Livian’s throat, and she fought to keep from throwing up at the worldly woman’s feet.
Alas, the Good Lord wasn’t done torturing her.
“And I know Mr. Latimer desires me,” Lachlan’s bride-to-be said, breathless. “Which, after falling in love and losing one’s true love is a small, but very important, consolation.”
And Livian knew the exact wicked thoughts playing in the other woman’s mind.
Livian knew because, in the matters of lovemaking, she herself had been the recipient of Lachlan’s masterful skill and rapt attention.
