She Kissed Him In Front Of Everyone To Save Him — Not Knowing That She Had Just Saved The Richest Duke
Chapter 11
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"They will not look at anyone else tonight," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that settled in her stomach."I am terrified they will look at me," Lydia admitted, the truth slipping out before she could stop it.Alistair met her eyes in the mirror. "Let them look. You are untouchable."The carriage ride to Apsley House was a masterclass in tension. The streets were choked with magnificent coaches. When the Westmorland crest was recognized, the whispers seemed to penetrate the lacquered doors.Alistair stepped out first. He turned and offered his hand. Lydia placed her gloved fingers in his, feeling the reassuring crush of his grip. She stepped down into the glaring light of the torches.The murmurs began instantly: hushed voices, pointing fans, wide eyes. Lydia lifted her chin. She channeled the cold, cynical armor that had kept her sane for 24 years. She laid her hand on Alistair’s forearm, feeling the iron-hard muscle beneath the wool, and walked up the stairs.The ballroom was a sea of jewels and silk. The moment the major-domo struck his staff, the room fell silent."His Grace, the Duke of Westmorland, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Westmorland!"Two hundred faces turned toward the entrance. The silence was absolute, thick, and suffocating. It was the same silence that had followed their kiss in the alcove.Alistair did not hesitate. He led her down the shallow steps and straight into the fray. The crowd parted. No one offered a greeting. The collective judgment of Mayfair hung in the air, thick as smoke. Lydia kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, but she could feel the eyes clawing at her: spinster, opportunist, whore.Then a figure stepped directly into their path: Lady Rutledge.She wore a gown of acid green silk and a smile so brittle it could cut glass. Agatha hovered nervously behind her."Your Grace," Lady Rutledge said loudly, ensuring the entire room could hear. "What a surprise! We had assumed you would be retreating to the country to hide your recent indiscretions. It seems the new Duchess lacks a sense of shame as much as she lacks a pedigree."Lydia froze. The insult was blatant, a direct challenge. If she backed down, she would be ruined all over again.Before Lydia could open her mouth, Alistair shifted. He didn’t step in front of her; he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, a unified front. He looked at Lady Rutledge with the detached curiosity of a man observing a dying insect."Lady Rutledge," Alistair said. His voice was not loud, but it carried a deadly, resonant authority. "I understand your husband’s investments in the Caribbean have suffered recently. A terrible string of bad weather, I am told."Lady Rutledge’s vicious smile faltered. "I am sure I do not know—""I do," Alistair interrupted softly. "In fact, I recently acquired the bank that holds his primary notes. A trivial purchase, really, but it does make me his sole creditor."