Royally Ever After by Loretta Chase Page B

face, the drunken moron.
    The men were too busy gossiping and laughing to notice her approach until she was practically under their noses.
    Then Lord Lovedon’s dark gaze slanted her way.
    â€œAh, Miss Sharp,” he said lazily. “Taken a wrong turn, have you? The duke’s house is something of a labyrinth. All sorts of odd corners and not-so-secret floors between floors. Happily, you needn’t fear his mad aunt’s springing out of a concealed door. She’s moved to Torquay.”
    Chloe stripped off one of her gloves and struck his cheek with it. She grabbed a glass of champagne from one of his startled companions and threw the contents in his face.
    He didn’t so much as flinch. The champagne dripped from his face onto his perfect neck cloth and down over his splendid silk waistcoat.
    Over the room’s sudden silence, the rain’s hammering sounded like drumbeats. Her heart beat a harder and faster tempo.
    â€œWhat is wrong with you?” she said. “How could you say such hurtful things? At a wedding , no less! How dare you make my sister cry on her wedding day, of all days? You brute .”
    â€œI say,” someone said.
    â€œWhat the devil?” someone else said.
    She ignored them. “If I were a man,” she said, “I’d draw your cork for you. I’d— No. Why do I need to be a man? Be so good as to name your second, my lord.”
    She was aware of hurried footsteps behind her, and familiar voices. Her sister Sarah had come. And Amy Renfrew, Chloe’s dearest friend after Althea.
    â€œOh, Lord, I knew it,” Sarah said. “I saw that look. I know that look.”
    â€œCome away, Chloe,” Amy said. “Whatever it is, let it be.”
    â€œName your second, Lord Lovedon,” Chloe said.
    â€œSecond?” Amy said.
    Someone laughed.
    â€œI believe Miss Sharp has challenged Lord Lovedon to a . . . duel?” one of the men said.
    Chloe didn’t know or care who spoke or who laughed. The world was a red fog of rage, and she could barely see. Except for him. His lordly hulk was all too clear, and she wanted to choke him, this spoiled lout who’d upset her sweet, gentle sister on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
    He stood, eyebrows aloft, still smiling his superior little smile. A drop of champagne clung to his thick black eyelashes. Another drop trickled down the hard angle of his jaw into his snow-white neck cloth.
    â€œOh, no,” Sarah said. She grabbed Chloe’s arm and tried to drag her away. “You can not make a scene, Chloe. Not here. Not now .”
    â€œA scene,” Chloe said, her gaze locked with Lovedon’s glittering black one. “I’ll make a scene. By Jupiter, I’ll—”
    â€œCome away, Chloe,” Amy said, taking hold of the other arm. “Whatever the trouble is, this is not the time.”
    â€œFor God’s sake, come away,” Sarah said.
    â€œI recommend you heed the ladies’ advice, Miss Sharp,” Lord Lovedon said. “Under no circumstances could I possibly agree to meet a young lady at thirty paces.” He took out a large linen handkerchief, embroidered with an L , and calmly wiped his face. “I should be a deuced laughingstock.”
    â€œYet it doesn’t trouble you to make a laughingstock of one who has done you no injury,” she said. “It’s quite all right to demean someone you know nothing about—”
    â€œChloe, let it be,” Amy whispered. “Come away before any of the others come looking for you.”
    Chloe wasn’t done. She wanted to hurt him, the way he’d hurt Althea. But he was unreachable, the aloof, immovable aristocrat. He still wore the mocking little smile. He remained perfectly cool and collected even while he wiped his face.
    Meanwhile her hands were shaking, and it took all the willpower she had to keep her voice at an even pitch.
    â€œI