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Dramelia pulls out a set of keys, counting through them until she finds one that looks particularly antique.
“This is a belly-button key,” she says, smirking. “If I put it in your belly-button and turn it, your bum will fall off.”
Maddie’s mouth drops open, and all the adults roar with laughter, even Benedict, although when I glare at him, he coughs and turns his head away. Dramelia moves as if to close in on Madeline, who scrambles to her feet and runs to me. I put an arm around her shoulders.
“Did you see her face?” Dramelia crows, turning to Benedict. “She certainly doesn’t take after your intelligence, now, does she?”
“Well, my brother isn’t me, so it’s not her fault,” Benedict says with a lazy shrug. Maddie inhales at the implied insult against her father and her, and turns into my side. I need to get her out of here.
“Do you want to go to the horse barn and see the new kittens?” I ask her quietly as the group of idiots talk about gambling later, and a ride out in the morning to tour the vineyards. Maddie nods, wordless, and it’s not until we’re outside in the sunshine, her hand pocketed in mine, that she speaks.
“I didn’t really believe her,” she says, her voice hushed, and she looks behind us to see if we’re being followed.
“She made you not feel good though, and it’s okay to leave if someone does that,” I tell her, because god willing, nobody elseon this planet is telling Madeline she deserves to feel safe with adults and to be able to walk away if she doesn’t. It makes me nearly vibrate with anger. I am absolutely going to have words with Benedict later.
Lord or not.
If he cares about his niece at all, he’ll keep Countess Dumbfuck away from Madeline for the rest of the trip. And he’ll stop flirting with Dramelia long enough to realize how much he just hurt his niece’s feelings.
Petting marbled kittens, gray and orange, goes a long way to erasing Maddie’s hurt feelings, and if there’s a bit of wet kitten fur from salty tears, I ignore it. Madeline has the right to cry quietly to herself if she wants to. I read the room and order her dinner straight to her bedroom.
“You’re a lot nicer than my last nanny,” she says sleepily, freshly washed in a hot bath, dried, and tucked into bed. The sun is slipping below the horizon, and it’ll be dark enough for her to sleep comfortably with the curtains open. She likes it better that way, so she can greet the day when the sun rises again.
“Oh yeah, how do you figure that?” I ask her, stroking my hand over the damp hair on her forehead. Her eyes flutter shut, and she sighs.
“Nobody’s ever guessed what I needed before I needed it,” she mumbles, and then drifts off. She’s so small in such a big bed, and my heart aches for her.
I go to lock her door from the inside because there’s no point in inviting trouble not that I think any of Benedict’s friends would be stupid enough to bother the duke’s daughter, but still.
Drunk people think it’s fun to do all sorts of moronic things, including throwing open doors and singing at the top of their lungs to whatever poor person is inside trying to sleep.
I haven’t seen the duke since the early afternoon greetings, though, and I’m annoyed enough with today that I’m going to go talk to him. I slip out my bedroom door, and bump almost directly into Benedict.
He towers over me, and I gulp down the yelp I was about to make.
“Before you say anything,” he says, “yes, she was being a bitch, and I’m sorry I made Maddie feel stupid.”
I glare at him.
“I know you have worse things planned for her life,” I hiss, keeping my voice pitched low and scanning the corridor for anyone who might be lurking and listening, “since you’re thinking it’s a good idea to murder her da-”
He claps a hand over my mouth, grabbing me by the shoulder with his other hand.
“That’s enough of that,” he growls. I narrow my eyes, putting all of my anger and rage into my expression. If he’s going to silence me, I’m going to tell him what I think, with my body. He’s lucky I don’t knee him in the junk for being a complete jackass.
I step back, and wrench my shoulder out of his grip.
“You want my help in your nefarious little plan, then hear me,” I point a finger in his face, my voice shaking. “You donotsilence me. I am putting my life on the line—”
“Because you owe me for hitting me—”
“I’ll hit you again if I have to,” I spit, and his eyebrows hike up, like he’s surprised at the heat in my voice. “I’m already in shit, and you’re asking me to commit treason. So when I speak, you will listen.”
I nearly stamp my foot for emphasis, but that seems a bit too childish.
Benedict’s mouth is in a straight line, and then he snorts, laughing with a shake of his head.
“You really are something else,” he mutters.
