Page 54 of Unbound Duchess

“Look at you,” Benedict cooed.

Cold chills raced down Ellen’s back as she heard her cousin’s voice. Chills that struck her stomach and flooded it with nausea as his gaze dropped slowly down her body.

“Could not stay away, could you, Sweet Ellie?” he asked, his eyes lingering on the swell of her cleavage.

The tip of his tongue swirled around the top row of his teeth before he slowly drew his bottom lip between them. Disgust shuddered through Ellen’s body, threatening to make her vomit right then and there.

“You miss me?” he asked, his voice suddenly husky as he finally flicked his eyes up to hers. “Come to your senses and ready to come home to me?”

Ellen drew in a shaky breath, not at all sure if she could play the part intended for her, and looked away from his intense gaze. Her heart began to slam harder into her ribs when she looked over the staircase railing and found that Solomon and Laurence were not there anymore. Where did they go? They promised!

Tears flooded into her eyes at once as she began to tremble. Her breath suddenly felt too difficult to catch. She was going to faint!

Then a touch—soft and brief—passed along her knuckles. She did not turn, but glanced in the direction of the touch. Breath slammed back into her lungs as she saw not only Solomon, but Laurence, subtly making their way up the stairs behind her. They stopped, only a few steps above where the wholly oblivious Benedict stood. She squeezed Laurence’s kerchief in her fist as she drew in another calming breath, and then Laurence’s green gaze found her.

His eyes, as usual, held that studious sharpness as he stared up at her. Those lips that were so soft to kiss were set in a hard, determined line, and his chiseled jaw was tight. His nostrils flared subtly as his gaze stayed on her. Benedict was their prey, and he could sense the oncoming struggle.

Laurence gave her a single, curt nod. A small promise that his claws were sharper than Benedict’s. Suddenly, power snapped into her veins, eating away the fear and anxiety Benedict had put there, and she knew she could do what needed to be done.

“I am married now, you know,” she answered.

Ellen was caught off guard by the smooth, confident tone of her own voice.

“It was a shame that we could not invite you to the wedding, but after what happened between you and my husband, I did not think it was appropriate,” she added with a cool shrug of her shoulders.

Benedict’s left eye twitched as he began to work his jaw back and forth in silent rage.

“Do you do that often?” she asked, not giving him a chance to say a word about her marriage. “Take women you hold affection for to that awful place?”

A smirk twitched over Benedict’s lips as something dark entered his eyes. “I do not have to hold affection for them to take them there,” he replied smoothly. “In fact, every woman but you has loved the experience of that place.”

He cocked his head. “Whatever could be so wrong with you that you would not have as much amusement as them?” he all but purred. “What twisted, dying, lonely thing inside is so afraid of company that you shudder at the experience instead of leaning into it?” He was trying to goad her; Insult her, make her feel weak and alone.

It was not going to work. Not now. Not when she had two large, dominant men looming behind Benedict, hanging on every word he said. Laurence was right. She had a family now, and she was not going to be alone again.

“I am curious,” Ellen said, her tone light and playful as she took a step toward her cousin. “Who did you want to me home that night and ‘teach’ me a lesson? Was it the decrepit old man? Or the rather rotund one—the one you were speaking to just a few moments ago?”

Benedict’s left brow quirked. “Either would have sufficed,” he replied with quiet rage. “I know both. They have similar…tastes when it comes to training their winnings.”

Ellen’s lips threatened to draw back in a sneer of disgust, but she willed her expression to remain only slightly intrigued.

“Training that you could not give me yourself?” she asked, cocking her head slightly to the side as she looked at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Careful,” he murmured. Benedict’s nostrils flared wide as a sneer contorted his lips into an uneven line.

“What are their names?” she pushed on, ignoring him. She made a show of glancing around the party, as if searching for them. “Maybe I could speak to them about this ‘training’ myself. I would be most curious to see what they could do that you could not.”

She glided her tongue over her bottom lip as she let her gaze fall back on him, and just like he did to her, she let her eyes wander down his body. Only instead of appearing impressed when she was done, she made sure her disappointment was evident. When she finally reached his eyes, though, she jolted. The sneer she expected to still be on his lips had shifted into a smug, wicked grin.

“Is your husband not ‘training’ you well enough?” Benedict countered.

Ellen’s cheeks flushed at once. She had made a mistake trying to lure him into talking about the auction, and now he had fodder to attack Laurence.

“I am not surprised,” Benedict chuckled. “He would not know what to do with a spirited woman; could not break them. He certainly could not break his sister.”

It was Solomon who moved behind Benedict. Solomon, with his murderous gaze after that comment. And it was Solomon who Laurence had in his grip. Panic began to rise anew as Ellen watched her husband whisper something into Solomon’s ear, and the man stared daggers down at Benedict’s head.

Ellen’s cousin had no idea how close to death he was. No idea that just behind him, as he chortled at Ellen’s silence and no doubt thought he’d won their little tête-à-tête, the man he was shaming was saving his life. She had to find the upper hand again, and quickly.