Page 8 of Unbound Duchess

“Oh, really?” Benedict mused, crossing his arms. “Yet it was a party that kept you from your father the night he died, was it not?”

Ellen glared at him.

“I told you what that was,” she bit out. “Told you how I did not wish to go in the first place.”

“Yet you went all the same, just as you will attend this party all the same,” Benedict retorted. He shoved away from her bedroom wall and moved toward her door.

“Get ready,” he commanded, his pleasant tone suddenly sharp and cruel as he threw a warning gaze at her. “Our guests will be arriving in two hours, and you will be a proper lady and help me to receive them.”

“And if I do not?” Ellen countered defiantly.

Benedict’s expression hardened as he leaned toward her.

“I have always been kind to you, cousin,” he said gravely as he locked his eyes on hers. “Do not force me to show you how quickly that kindness can turn into something else.”

Ellen jolted, alarmed by his words and how they reminded her of her late father’s opinion of Benedict. He had always disliked something about her cousin, and Ellen had always pestered her father about his judgment. Now though, she wondered if her father’s opinions had been valid.

As the door closed, Ellen’s handmaid, Sarah, rushed toward her.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Sarah asked worriedly, her kind brown eyes searching Ellen’s face. “You look most pale.”

“No,” Ellen whispered, a tear escaping down her cheek as she turned to her handmaid. “But it would seem that my cousin does not concern himself with my well-being.”

She flicked away her tears, wishing it were easy to rid herself of her sorrow and apprehension, and then drew herself up straight.

“We should hurry along,” Ellen said, laying the gown in Sarah’s arms. “I suspect that my cousin will force me downstairs at his convenience whether I am ready or not.”

An hour and a half later, freshly bathed, adorned in the overly bright gown, and with her dark locks pulled halfway up, Ellen stood by her door and waited. But as she heard her cousin’s approaching footsteps, she faltered, and freed one long curl from the pins so that she could cover the mole on her cheek.

Benedict’s cold blue eyes widened as he stepped inside; he made no show of hiding his apparent approval as he slowly drew his gaze down her body.

“Very good,” he purred, putting a hand at her hip.

Ellen’s lips tugged toward a sneer as he touched her. She felt his palm caress her there as it guided and turned her in a slow circle. His touch did not warm her, nor comfort her as the stranger’s had during the night of the masquerade—the stranger who had kissed her so passionately that she had used the memory to comfort her through the last dreadful week.

“Very good indeed,” he praised when they faced one another again.

“I do not want to do this,” she stated with finality, uncaring of the satisfied look in his gaze.

“We all must do things we do not wish to do, sweet Ellie,” Benedict stated, his tone and gaze growing cold. “But you will do them. Do not forget. It is under my grace that you live now. Unless you would prefer life as a street urchin? They do not need pretty gowns like the one I have given you.”

Fear trembled down Ellen’s spine as she once more wished she had trusted her father’s opinion of her cousin.

“No,” she rasped out. “I am grateful for your generosity, cousin. I just am not comfortable with parties, is all.”

Benedict’s eyes warmed again, and he moved his hand around to her lower back. Her flesh instantly rebelled against his adventurous touch, but she curled her fists and withstood it.

“That is one of the many mistakes your father made,” Benedict stated patronizingly as he began to lead her out of her room. “He spoiled you by allowing you to have choices. If he’d had a firmer hand in socializing you, you would be far more accustomed to parties than you are now. Fear not, though, I shall teach you, dear cousin.”

As they walked side by side, Benedict looked down at her, and Ellen’s stomach twisted painfully as she saw his strangely lupine smile.

“I shall teach you many things,” he whispered.

Ellen’s nostrils flared as she tried to move away from his touch and closeness, but his hand drew back to her hip and pulled her back into his side.

“Benedict,” she whispered harshly as they walked down the stairs.

“Lesson number one,” he snarled under his breath as his grip on her tightened. “You do as I say. Always.”