Page 109 of Ne'er Duke Well
Selina chatted briefly with the three dowagers for a few more moments, before placing her hand on Peter’s arm. “I fear we must take your leave,” she said. “Some business to attend to. Such apleasureto see you all.”
They left the group, and Peter set his hand atop Selina’s. “Do I want to know—about the venison?”
Selina vibrated with smothered amusement. “There’s a book. Lady Malcolm borrowed it so many times and for so long that eventually I simply replaced it in the catalog.”
“Is that right?”
“It describes the—er—adventures of a certain female huntress. Modeled on Diana. She engages in a variety of exotic acts with her fellow archers. Arrows, you see. Piercing, er, numerous things. Toward the end, one is informed that Diana prefers agreat dealof sauce. All over her apples.”
Peter tried very hard not to imagine any such thing in the context of the dowager they had just encountered.
“Duchess,” he said instead, “don’t tell me you are having a good time.”
She laughed softly, a little puff of air. “Perhaps—just a little.”
The afternoon continued in much the same vein, and Peter felt dizzy with pride in her. In her accomplishments, certainly—but also in the way she threw herself into the role, vibrant and strong. She would have fled society if it would have kept their family safe, the same way she had tried to remake the whole damned world in order to help a friend.
He thought of the way she’d thrown herself into the Serpentinefor the little wet ball of canine fluff, and tenderness came in a rush that was almost painful.
There was a brief commotion at the front of the library, and Selina’s head snapped up.
It was Lady Georgiana, Peter saw—and then, with a start of alarm, observed the Earl and Countess of Alverthorpe behind her.
Lady Alverthorpe hung briefly on her husband’s arm, but he shook her off and made toward the back of the library. Peter felt a brief flash of hazy red rage, but fought it back. Selina was stiff beside him, and he had to be steady right now. For her.
They hadn’t expected direct confrontation. They had counted upon Alverthorpe’s pride to stop him from announcing his family’s association with Belvoir’s and the Venus catalog. He might withdraw his membership, to be sure—but they hadn’t thought he’d come for Selina.
They’d been wrong.
Alverthorpe was tall and bluff and would have been handsome if his face hadn’t been carved with fury. He came straight for them.
“Stanhope,” he hissed. “I should have known it when you married into this family. Not something a real Englishman would touch in his life.”
Selina stiffened further.
The earl’s eyes fixed on Selina. “And you,” he said. He seemed to relish the words. “I’m going to run this place out of business. And after that, I’m going to have you brought up on civil charges for the filth you’ve been spreading.”
This was what Selina had been afraid of. Tagore had said she couldn’t be prosecuted under criminal obscenity charges, but that didn’t mean she was exempt from legal action.
Selina lifted her chin. “I am the Duchess of Stanhope,” she said coolly. “My membership rolls include several royals. I’d like to see you try.”
Alverthorpe’s face grew even more enraged. “Control your wife,” he snapped at Peter. “Or I will do it for you.”
Peter heard his restraint snap, a quiet pop inside his ears. “That,” he said softly, “was too far.”
And then, at Alverthorpe’s elbow, Georgiana spoke. “Enough,” she said. “Father. Enough.”
The earl turned on her, and Peter stepped forward, prepared for the earl to unleash violence, but Georgiana raised her voice. “No. I’m tired of being silent.”
She’d dropped her muddleheaded public persona. She looked almost a different woman, her mouth a hard slash.
“Georgiana”—Alverthorpe’s voice was a threat—“we’ll talk about this at home.”
“I’ll talk about it now. I wrote the books you found in my chamber.”
“Don’t be a fool—”
“I wrote them,” she said, “and three others. I can find them here for you, if you’d like to see them.”
