Page 87 of A Duke Makes a Deal
“Goodness, what’s going on here?” Clara asked.
“We’re leaving,” Silas said, his tone gruff. “Now.”
“Tonight? While the ball is taking place?”
“Yes,” he spoke. Violet whimpered and Silas gave her a furious expression. “Not a word out of you.”
“You’re a brute!” Violet yelled.
Clara gave her husband an uneasy glance.
“Silas, you didn’t hurt anyone, did you?”
“Yes, he did!” Violet hurriedly exclaimed as maids and manservants moved about them. “He nearly murdered Fredrick Trembley.”
“Fredrick?” Clara repeated, her face crumbling into confusion. “Why on earth would you have done that?”
“Care to share?” Silas asked his sister sarcastically as a bright red stained her cheeks. “No? Well, then, it falls to me to tell her that that bastard Fredrick Trembley had his hands up your—”
“Oh, stop it! Stop!” Violet shouted, putting her hands to her ears. “Don’t say it!”
“You can’t even talk about it! What makes you think you’d even be ready to do… that?” he said, seemingly stumbling over his words. Clara saw an embarrassed flush come to his cheeks. It appeared Silas was less than eager to talk about his sister’s situation. “Besides it was a godsend that I got to you before that roving pack of gossip mongers found you,” he said, turning back to Clara. “Did you know Valle sent out a damn search party for them?”
“I wish they had found me!” Violet snapped, which caused her brother to stop what he was doing and come up to her. “It wouldn’t have been nearly as mortifying.”
Clara took several steps forward and placed both hands up between them.
“Violet, I’m sure whatever embarrassment you’ve endured here tonight shall not live forever, and whatever has been ruined can be mended. Your brother was worried about you, and I know you do not hate him.” She took a breath. “Now, please make sure all your things are gathered from your room and meet us downstairs. Promptly.”
Violet gave Clara a small nod and ran back to her room. When Clara turned to face Silas, he seemed far too distracted to discuss what had transpired between him and Cynthia, although from the words he spoke next, it was clear she was at the forefront of his mind.
“That vile snake of a woman,” he cursed, running his hand through his hair. “To go after Violet that way. I should strangle her.”
“Cynthia won’t be an issue any longer,” Clara said evenly, as she went behind the silk screen to change into her travel dress. “In fact, I think she may leave the country again as Lord Valle will not have her.”
“Not an issue?” Silas repeated, coming behind the screen. “How?”
Clara snapped her dress tightly.
“Silas, please.”
“What do you mean she won’t be an issue?”
Clara’s cheeks flared hot.
“We had words,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “She threatened you.”
“Did she?” he asked, unimpressed. “Empty threats, I assure you. She has no sway over me.”
“No, but it seems that was enough for me to do something,” Clara admitted. “I slapped her.”
Silence followed for a long moment before Clara looked up. Silas was staring at her, dumbfounded.
“You what?”
“I slapped her,” Clara repeated, shame bubbling within her. “I’m not proud of it.”
Clara held her breath, worried about how he might react.
