Death of a Duchess by Nellie Steele (the beginning after the end novel read TXT) 📗

Richard cornered me. “Well, if it isn’t the orphan duchess,” he remarked. As he closed in nearer to me, the thick scent of alcohol became apparent. “What a beautiful necklace. Is this the going rate for your special skills?”

I did not dignify his remark with a response, instead I turned to escape his drunken ramblings. He grasped my arm, pulling me toward him and into the hallway outside the ballroom. “Tell me, orphan duchess, do your special skills extend to the bedroom? Is this how you’ve earned your position?”

I tugged at my arm but failed to loosen his grasp. His hand’s crushing grasp twisted to pull me closer, and he forced his lips upon mine. I pushed against him with all my strength but was no match for his overpowering brawn. As I struggled, he began to fall backward, and I wondered if he might be having some sort of attack.

As I followed his falling form, I caught sight of Robert, pulling the man by the collar. He struck him square on the jaw, knocking his sinewy form to the floor. “I informed you once, my wife is no concern of yours. Do not lay a hand on her again.”

Sir Richard wiped a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth where Robert’s fist landed moments earlier. He pulled himself up to standing. “The whore cannot possibly be worth this much to you, Robert,” he hissed.

Robert’s eyes burned with fury. “Robert,” I whispered, “leave it. It is no bother.”

“Listen to her, she understands her worth,” Prescott breathed. With that comment, Robert cocked his fist, striking him again, sending him sprawling. I exclaimed aloud, covering my mouth with my hand as he landed.

Several gentlemen rushed into the hall. “Is something amiss?” one questioned.

“Sir Richard seems to have had too much to drink. He is having trouble keeping to his feet. Call for his carriage, he should be on his way,” Robert answered, then guided me across the ballroom and outside to the balcony.

He squared my shoulders, forcing me to face him. “Are you all right, Lenora? Did he harm you?”

I shook my head, still catching my breath. “No,” I answered after a few breaths. “I am not hurt.” He relaxed, and I continued, “Robert, I am sorry.”

“Sorry?” he exclaimed. “Dear Lenora, you have nothing to be sorry about!”

“You shouldn’t have struck him on my account.”

“I damn well should have done more than that,” Robert responded, leaning against the balustrade. “Oh, please excuse my language.”

“There was no need to cause a scuffle over me.”

“The man is an insufferable jackass. He’s made enough money in the rail system to buy his way into society. Unfortunately, he did not buy any manners. Are you certain you are unharmed, Lenora?”

I nodded. “Yes, I am certain.”

Robert shook his head. “It seems what you maintain as a generous offer on my behalf has caused you more trouble than any woman should encounter.”

“That isn’t true,” I insisted. “Your offer remains generous. It is my reputation that causes the trouble.”

“Lenora,” Robert said, taking my hands in his, “do not take this upon yourself. You share no blame in this.”

“Nor do you,” I asserted.

Robert stared off in the distance for a moment. “Would you prefer to depart?” he inquired after a breath, focusing his gaze on me.

“There is no need to depart on my account,” I assured him.

“Then perhaps you’d care to dance with your husband?”

“But your leg…” I began.

“It is quite fine, my dear,” Robert promised. “I use the cane only because I prefer the rakish appeal it lends me.” He grinned, and I matched his expression. He offered his arm, and I accepted, being led to the dance floor to join the others.

I had never danced with a man before, nor at a ball, though I had learned the steps for most popular dances at the orphanage. We were expected to learn them in the event we were engaged by a wealthy family and needed the skill. In a cloud of giggles, the girls would practice with each other and dream of being swept off their feet. I silently thanked my instructors for providing the lessons as Robert whisked me across the dance floor. My dream had come true. I had the world at my feet.

A smile crept across my face as we continued to swirl around the floor. When the music ended and we applauded the orchestra and dancers, my smile had not diminished. Robert glanced to me, leaning closer to say, “I’ve never seen you smile so much, Lenora. It is quite beautiful. You should do it more often.”

We spent the rest of the party enjoying the company and entertainment, remaining unbothered by any additional rude guests. We returned home in the wee hours of the morning. Poor Elsie was roused from her bed to help me undress.

I climbed into my bed, exhausted but exhilarated. As I relaxed into the pillows, I considered my task over the next several days. I’d prepare for our trip to Glasgow to engage my ladies’ maid. I considered the packing to be done before the trip, planning what I might need.

My musings were interrupted by a loud banging at the door. I shot up to sitting, listening as the pounding continued. The sound, enough to rattle my bed, could not emanate from an earthly source.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sliding onto the floor. My bare feet touched the cold floor as I crossed the room to the door, pulling on my dressing gown. Dust shook from the ceiling as the battering of my bedroom door continued.

I pulled the door open, staring out at an empty hallway. Moonlight cast shadows down the corridor from the large window at the hall’s end. I peered up and down the hall, searching for the cause of the disturbance. I found nothing.

Sighing, I latched the door behind me, shuffling back to my bed. I climbed in and settled back into my pillows. The moment I relaxed into the bed,