Page 75 of A Duke Makes a Deal
“Cynthia,” he said quietly, his eyes hard.
A flash of something, challenge perhaps, shone in her eyes as she and her escort stopped their advance. They were a few yards away from him and Clara. Cynthia’s long neck stretched as she peered over Silas’s shoulder.
“Is that Violet?” she asked, her voice a soft coo. “My, how you’ve grown in only a year.”
“Nearly two years now,” Violet said after a moment of silence.
It was evident that she didn’t wish to betray her brother, but the stilted hope of seeing a former confidant was obvious in the sound of her voice. Violet remained immobile, however.
Cynthia cocked her head.
“Come, friend,” she said, hands outstretched. “I wish to see you closely.”
Violet didn’t move and Silas saw displeasure pass over Cynthia’s face. Instead, Violet turned to her brother, as if waiting for his signal. As he looked up, he saw that everyone was watching him. He needed to be cautious. Whatever move he made, whatever word he spoke next, would solidify Cynthia’s treatment for years to come.
A surge of vengeance coursed through him, urging him to make her pay for the pain she caused him. But it was a dull feeling, not as strong as it had been before. Clara’s fingers neither released him nor tightened, but they remained as if she were giving him support in whatever he chose to do. In truth, he would have liked for Cynthia to disappear.
Instead, he glanced back down at Clara once more. She was staring at him with patience and understanding. In that moment, he felt very glad indeed that she was his wife. Turning to his left, he nodded at Violet before facing Cynthia once more.
Cynthia, who had always been very attuned to body language, was visibly displeased at the display. Firstly, that Violet had chosen her brother instead of her and then, Silas’slack of reaction. He could guess what she was searching for. She fed off emotion, good or bad. Had he been pleased to see her, she would’ve relished it. If he had been furious, even more so. But indifference? That was something she could not stand. He hadn’t done so on purpose, though. Silas couldn’t muster any sort of feeling, good or bad, towards her now.
Violet took a step towards her, but Cynthia held up her hand to stop her, instead trying a different approach.
“Miss Clara Woodvine,” she said, a sneer in her tone. “What a stellar choice, Silas. I have read about you, Miss Woodvine. It truly is a pleasure to meet you. I had hoped Silas would find a suitable replacement one day.”
The cut was intentional and obvious, but before Silas could speak, Clara took the smallest of steps around him, seemingly unwilling to be protected. In fact, she came to stand in front of him.
“My name is Clara Winters,” Clara started, her sweet, even tone hard as steel. “Duchess of Combe.” Her title seemed to echo through the room and challenge snapped between the two women. “Unfortunately, my dear husband has married a prideful woman. Pride is in fact my worst sin, and while I do pray that the good Lord helps relieve me of such a vile attribute, I’m afraid he hasn’t thus far. Therefore, you may address me as ‘your grace’ to appease my wicked sense of self.”
Cynthia’s mouth set in a hard line; her eyes lit with acrimony. Rarely, if ever, had she been set upon by someone, especially in front of a room full of people. Silas had never heard Clara speak so calmly yet forcefully towards another human being. While he was rather pleased that she had been so straightforward and earnest, a part of him wanted to tell her she needn’t bother. Cynthia’s presence, while a nuisance, was not worth the aggravation. Nor would it be worth her retaliation.
Just then the expensively dressed man who had been standing next to Cynthia came forward.
“Your graces,” he said with a bow of his head. “May I introduce myself? I am Lord Randall Valle, son of the Earl of Pinehill.”
“Lord Valle,” Clara said, the picture of manners.
“You’ll have to forgive my fiancée,” he said slowly as his words seeped through the room. “We have been out of England for so long, she may have forgotten etiquette altogether. You see, we’ve been in Paris for over a year.”
So, she was to be remarried. Silas was rather numb in that moment and couldn’t quite think of anything to say. He might have reacted before marrying Clara—in fact, he was sure he would have—but as monumental of a revelation as it was that Cynthia was engaged, it seemed to fall a little short of making him care.
How very strange.
“Well, I’ve heard rumors that Paris will do that to one’s manners,” Clara replied smoothly, unaffected by the news.
Silas had to admit that he was surprised that Cynthia had decided to marry again, but the surprise did not affect him in the way he thought it would. There was no heat behind his heart, no anger. To be honest, he only felt a sort of mild pity for the young lord.
“There’s no need to apologize for me, Randall,” Cynthia said, turning to Clara. “Your grace—”
“Thank you very much, Lady Cynthia,” Clara said, cutting her off. “While it has been thrilling to finally meet you, I’m afraid we are rather pressed for time. We’re rehearsing a play, you see, and I don’t want our players to be unprepared for our performance. So, if you’ll excuse us.”
“I—”
“Thank you for understanding and I look forward to continuing our conversation again during dinner. Good day.”
Clara turned her back on Cynthia who, while nearly shaking with fury, turned to leave, if only to stop herself from being ridiculous. Silas knew Cynthia would seek revenge for being so humiliated by Clara and while he would never have assumed Clara was capable of behaving like that, a small, selfish part of him had been thrilled. She had put Cynthia in her place immediately. She hadn’t cowered or waited for Cynthia to embarrass her.
Still, it might not have been the best idea to anger Cynthia. She was a reactive, volatile person as Silas could attest, and Clara had certainly incurred her wrath. Clara, on the other hand, had hardly seemed affected. Everyone went back to their respective spots, including Fredrick, quietly taking over his role as Jasper. It seemed everyone involved with the play had decided to behave themselves under Clara’s direction, who had taken a seat in a tall, wingback chair.
