Gossamer in the Darkness (Fantasyland) - Page 21

And so on…

I also had not been around Lord Remington or the Duke of Dalton very long. I didn’t know what made their character (but spoiler, I was about to find out).

Last, I had never been struck.

The pain was subsiding, though it lingered and there was a tightness so I knew it was swelling. That said, I was in a state of shock that any human being, much less one who looked like my dad, would take his hands to me.

So, I had an excuse when I did what I should not and glided in my gorgeous gown into the drawing room.

Edgar was the first to see me.

He turned, paled immediately, only for big splashes of angry red to suffuse his cheeks, and he hurried my way.

“Daughter,” he bit impatiently, even if he was trying to make it sound concerned, “You’re to be abed. It’s lovely, you wish to keep us company, but let’s get you back to your chamber.”

He was crowding me, pushing me backwards, hiding me from the others with his body, and I was still partially in a daze, not to mention a little freaked at seeing him.

I was backing up.

“It’s my understanding,” I heard Loren drawl, “that the countess doesn’t like to be backed somewhere she doesn’t wish to be.”

His voice was coming around our sides.

I turned my head that way.

And stopped dead.

This was because, if I felt his anger singe my skin in the stables, his fury now was burning me alive.

“What’s this?” he whispered sinisterly, his attention locked to my cheek.

His father came up to his side, got a look at me, and his face turned to stone.

Edgar took hold of my upper arm and started jostling me toward the door.

“I’ll return after I see my Maxine to bed,” he said, trying again to hide me with his frame.

“You’ll take your hand off her, or mark me, Derryman, you’ll find it difficult to use after I crush every bone in it,” Loren threatened.

Edgar’s eyes narrowed on me, and he hissed under his breath, “Punished.”

And poof, my daze cleared.

Shit, what had I done?

He turned to the men, holding me at his side, and in an ingratiating tone, lied, “Maxine took a bit of a tumble. I didn’t want to say. It’s embarrassing to her. She can be quite awkward.”

“She didn’t take a godsdamned tumble,” Loren gritted.

Edgar made a frustrated noise.

I belatedly started freaking out.

“I think we can all agree she needs to be resting with a compress,” Edgar rejoined.

“I think you need to step away from your daughter, Derryman,” Ansley stated flatly.

His fingers on my arm tightened.

I winced.

“If you gentleme—” Edgar began.

He didn’t finish because he, and I (he took me with him because he didn’t let go), reeled back.

Though it was only he who was slammed against the wall with Loren’s hand wrapped around his throat, and Loren in his face.

“Release your daughter, sir,” he clipped.

Edgar let me go.

“Father,” Loren prompted, not moving from Edgar.

I felt my elbow taken with gentle fingers and I was carefully pulled away.

“Was it spending time with me in the stables? Or how she spoke to you before then? Or both?” Loren demanded.

Edgar made low choking noises.

“Loren, my son, step back,” Ansley called.

Loren didn’t step back.

“Have you hurt her before?” he pushed.

“Loren,” Ansley persisted.

“Answer!” Loren thundered.

“Loren! Now!” Ansley commanded.

I held my breath.

Loren didn’t move.

Edgar kept choking.

Loren pushed off and stepped back.

After he did, instantly, he turned to me, and tenderly ordered, “Come here.”

I had no idea why (that’s a lie, I did, that tone in his lovely, rich voice was mesmerizing), but I went right there.

When I did, he took my hand, lifted it, tucked it against the side of his chest and led us several feet farther from Edgar.

“We shall call your valet, Derryman,” Ansley announced. “You’re leaving tonight.”

No!

I tensed.

I felt his regard as Loren looked down at me.

“Your daughter will remain,” Ansley finished.

Oh God. Oh shit. Oh no.

“I did. I d-did. I t-tumbled,” I lied (poorly).

“Countess,” Loren murmured.

I looked up at him, feeling my eyes were huge, and desperately kept at it. “I did. I’m clumsy that way.”

Loren’s intelligent brown gaze roamed my face.

He then lifted it to his father.

“He goes, she stays,” he decreed.

Damn it, he knew I was lying.

“Lord Remington, may I speak to you?” I asked urgently.

“Good, Eaton, you’re here,” Ansley said, and I whipped my head around to see him addressing a man who had a slightly more important outfit than the other servants. “Find the Count’s valet. He and his staff will be leaving this eve. His daughter and her maid will remain.”

Eaton nodded smartly and left the room.

Ansley looked to Edgar and delivered the final blow.

“It will be up to your daughter and my son if they should make their own union, but Derryman, you and I, the House of Dalton and the House of Derryman, will have no such public alliance. Consider this the cut direct, sir, and please do me the favor of never corresponding with me in any way again.”

Tags: Kristen Ashley Fantasy
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