Page 40 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
Chapter 19
Arabella had barely slept. She had seen senseless violence many times before, but never in the name of her own protection. She still hadn’t decided how to react, though her mind often wandered to the streak of bright red blood on the lord’s face or the way he was dragged from the room by her father’s men. She reached forward for the butter, then scraped some along the triangle of toast.
She couldn’t deny that it thrilled her to have the duke himself defend her. Their growing connection was becoming increasingly obvious on both sides, but she had not expected Sebastian to display himself in such a way and in front of everyone. It was romantic and sweet, and Arabella felt truly protected. It made her feel loved.
Yet it had both shocked and scared her, and her heart had positively stopped when she saw her father approaching. To her surprise, though, that, too, had turned out well. Far from being angry, her father seemed pleased with Sebastian, celebrating him for defending her.
He’d ordered champagne, for goodness’ sake, and then proclaimed Sebastian to be like a son. The pair had barely left each other’s sides for the rest of the evening, though Arabella often caught Sebastian looking over at her.
The whole thing set her stomach roiling and her thoughts twisting and turning. Her mind went back to poor George Heath and how her father had treated him simply because he and Arabella had liked one another. She wondered why he had not reacted the same with Sebastian, for the duke had done nothing if not show his true feelings in hitting the lord.
Unless Father does not suspect Sebastian and I of being involved.
She chewed her lip, the toast hanging limply in her hand while her thoughts raced. Were Sebastian and her father closer than she had realized? If so, she wanted nothing more to do with the man.
Though she couldn’t deny her feelings—both physical and emotional—were developing for him by the day, she knew that growing attached to a man in cahoots with her father would be a bad idea. She wanted to escape this world, not become further embroiled in it.
But that was surely the only explanation. Her father was not angry at Sebastian and didn’t suspect anything of them because Sebastian was courtinghimas much as he was Arabella. The thought left her with a sour taste in her mouth. She had dared to think of him as a knight in shining armour, but he was the same as all the rest.
With a little growl of frustration, she ripped off the corner of her toast and chewed it frantically. Yet another man was playing games with her, but she refused to be anyone’s pawn.
No, her mind was made up. She would not allow Sebastian Ravenswood into her life any longer. The fact that he had defended her was sweet and made her heart leap with hope and possibility, but she couldn’t risk it, not if he really was involved with her father and the schemes he cooked up.
“I saidgood morning, Arabella!”
Suddenly pulled from her thoughts, Arabella found her grandmother now sitting across the table from her, her head ducked as if to catch Arabella’s eye. All the negativity flowed out of her, and she sighed, smiling at Priscilla.
“Good morning, Grandmother. Please excuse me. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Priscilla busied herself with peeling a hardboiled egg, rolling it on the tablecloth until the shell cracked.
“Oh dear. I hope there is nothing bothering you,” she said.
Arabella shook her head, both for Priscilla’s sake and her own. “No, no. Nothing at all, Grandmother. It was an eventful night, that’s all.”
“It was Lord Campbell’s turn to host, wasn’t it?” she asked. She placed the egg on her plate, next to a small pile of salt, then began buttering a thick slice of untoasted bread.
“That’s right.”
Priscilla raised her eyebrows. “They are normally sedate affairs, I’ve heard. Campbell is the dullest of the group. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man with less personality than him.”
Arabella allowed herself a giggle. “Indeed, you’re correct, but it wasn’t Campbell who caused the ruckus. There was a young lord there who had taken a little too much alcohol—”
Priscilla snorted as she dipped her egg into her salt. “Don’t they all?”
“Yes, but this one was behaving poorly. He made several lewd comments to me. I must admit, he made me feel rather uncomfortable.”
Priscilla looked at her sharply. “Did he proposition you, dear?”
Arabella nodded. “And more. Really, Grandmother. Why do men feel they have the right to take what they wish?”
“They mayfeelit is their right, Arabella dear, but it isnottheir right. Remember that always.” She let out a long sigh, her egg now forgotten. “This is one of the reasons I have begged your father not to take you to these events. It’s unsafe and not proper for a young lady in your position. He assures me he is always there to protect you, though.”
“He tries,” Arabella admitted. “But he cannot be at my side all the time. My protector last night was the Duke of Ravenswood instead.”
Priscilla’s worried expression turned into a wide smile. “Oh, I did enjoy meeting the duke last week. A very pleasant young gentleman, even if he is a member of your father’s disgusting little group. Did you spend a lot of time with him?”
“Not a lot, no,” Arabella said. “Though he overheard the lewd remarks, and he took it upon himself to rid me of the man. If the punch he threw is anything to go by, I’d wager His Grace has some strength within him.”
