She Kissed Him In Front Of Everyone To Save Him — Not Knowing That She Had Just Saved The Richest Duke
Chapter 12
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The silence in the room deepened. The string quartet had stopped playing entirely. Lady Rutledge turned the color of old chalk. The malice vanished, replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror. Agatha whimpered quietly."My wife," Alistair continued, his tone conversational but laced with absolute poison, "has a gentle heart. She convinced me that destroying your family’s livelihood over a pathetic, failed trap in an alcove would be uncharitable. She saved your daughter from ruin, and she saved your husband from debtor’s prison." Alistair leaned in slightly. The wolf bared its teeth. "Do not test her charity again. I possess none."He held Lady Rutledge’s terrified gaze for three long seconds. Then he dismissed her entirely, turning to Lydia. The coldness vanished, replaced by a warmth that made her breath catch."The waltz is beginning, my dear," he said smoothly. "Shall we?"He did not wait for Lady Rutledge to move. He walked right past her, forcing the older woman to scramble out of the way, and led Lydia onto the polished floor.The music swelled, a sudden, desperate flurry of strings to cover the shockwaves rippling through the room. Alistair pulled Lydia into his arms. One hand swallowed hers; the other settled firmly on her waist. He pulled her flush against him, much closer than the dictates of a polite waltz allowed."You bought her husband’s bank?" Lydia breathed, staring up at him as they spun into the center of the floor."I bought it yesterday," Alistair confirmed, a dark spark of amusement returning to his gray eyes. "I find revenge is best served with compound interest."Lydia let out a sudden, breathless laugh. The sound bubbled out of her, genuine and bright, shattering the heavy tension in her chest.Alistair’s grip tightened on her waist. His eyes darkened, tracking the movement of her throat as she laughed. The air between them suddenly crackled, thick and heavy, entirely devoid of polite society rules."You are magnificent," he murmured, his voice a low rumble meant only for her."I am surviving," Lydia corrected, though her heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs."We are surviving," Alistair said. He leaned down, his mouth hovering mere inches from hers, exactly as it had in the alcove. But this time, there was no trap. There were only two cynical people standing in the center of a viper’s nest, realizing they held the only cure for each other’s venom. "And Lydia?" he whispered as they spun past the gaping faces of the ton."Yes?""You may have saved my life on Tuesday," he said, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "But I intend to make you pay for it for the rest of ours."London surrendered. It didn’t do so with grace, but with a sullen, terrified obedience.For three weeks, Lydia and Alistair attended every major ball, dinner, and theatrical premiere. They were a unified front of velvet, diamonds, and unspoken threats. Society learned quickly that to insult the new Duchess of Westmorland was to invite the financial ruin of your entire bloodline. They were feared, they were untouchable, and they were entirely exhausted.