Page 118 of Duke of Diamonds
She raised her voice and cut him off before he could draw breath.
“Think about it, Holden,” she said. “In all of this, it is yourself you have disgraced most thoroughly. A man of honor and repute would bestow those very virtues upon his household andcultivate them. But I daresay you never possessed them to begin with. How wretchedly small you are, and how painfully obvious it has become.”
She took a breath, and it did not catch.
With each word, each long-silenced truth that spilled from her lips, she felt as though some great weight had lifted—like a cloak she had worn too long. It fell away, and in its place came clarity. Strength.
You will not touch her again.
George Holden stood before her, livid and silenced, his face an alarming shade of crimson. But for all his fury, he did not speak. Could not.
“And hear me well,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “If ever again you raise a hand or your voice to my mother in violence, I shall ensure you rue the day you named her your Marchioness. And the day you ever dared to bring me into this world.”
He opened his mouth again, but the words would not come.
Fiona turned from him, her hand resting on her mother’s trembling shoulder. “We are leaving now, Mama.”
CHAPTER 37
“Come, Mama. This is your home now,” Fiona said after her mother had alighted from the carriage in front of Craton Manor.
Prudence’s face was still pale from the morning’s events, but her chin still had a proud and regal lift. As they ascended the marble steps, the door opened, and Mr. Everett appeared, his features softening at the sight of them.
“Good day, Your Grace,” he said with a bow. “And Lady Holden.”
“Mr. Everett,” Fiona began, removing her gloves. “My mother will be staying with us. Kindly inform Mrs. Burton that a suite must be prepared for her at once.”
“Very good, Your Grace. I shall see to it immediately.” He offered a deeper bow to Prudence before disappearing down the hallway.
Fiona led her mother into the drawing room. “Fiona, dearest,” Prudence said as they took their seats, her fingers worrying at the folds of her shawl. “You need not fuss over me. I shall be quite well.”
Fiona reached over and took her hand. “You are staying here, Mama. That is not up for debate.”
Before her mother could protest further, voices filtered in from the hallway beyond, followed by the sound of booted footsteps.
Isaac entered the room, pausing at the sight of them.
“Lady Holden,” he said with a polite nod, stepping further into the drawing room. “What a surprise. I trust you are well?”
Prudence smiled, her face composed though slightly unsure. “Quite well, thank you, Your Grace.”
Isaac glanced briefly at Fiona, then back at her mother. “I had not expected to see you this morning. Is all well?”
“My visit was rather unannounced,” Prudence replied, clasping her hands. “Forgive the intrusion.”
“Not at all,” he said. “Craton Manor is a spacious place, one that benefits from warmth and company.”
There was a pause, almost imperceptible, before he added, “I trust your journey was comfortable?”
“As much as one can expect from a morning in a carriage,” Prudence answered.
Fiona watched the exchange quietly, noting how Isaac remained courteous, even pleasant, but his look told her he sensed more than he was being told.
“Well, I shan’t keep you,” he said at last. “Please, make yourself at home.”
He offered another nod, and with that, turned and walked back into the hallway. Fiona rose as soon as he was gone. “I shall be but a moment, Mama.”
She followed Isaac down the hallway, catching up to him just as he reached his study. “Isaac,” she said softly, drawing the door closed behind her once they had stepped inside.
