Free Rescued By a Lady's Love (Lords of Honor, #3) by Christi Caldwell Page B

involuntarily retreated. His black, palpable rage, however, was reserved solely for the poor servant who’d roused his fury. Well, technically she had roused his fury. But... “Get. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Door.” Again, he passed his hard stare over Lily.
    She detested her slight audible intake of breath; that ever so slight indication of her fear. By God, she’d not be so disdained by a Winters again. Not allowing him the luxury of unsettling her, at least openly anyway, Lily tipped her chin up.
    The duke’s thick, black lashes swept down, but not before she caught the faint flash of surprise. But then his wintry fury was promptly back in place so that she wondered if she’d merely imagined any other hint of emotion there. “Have Mr. Davies deal with her , Harrison.” The unscarred portion of his mouth turned up in a snarl. That patent disdain showered on her for too many years.
    His Grace made to close the door and she thrust her foot out and forced it open. “How dare you?” she seethed as the good sense to fear him fled. The duke swung a hard, one-eyed stare at her. At the fierce glint trained on her by this bellowing beast, her heart hammered wildly.
    “How dare I?” The jeering note to his words roused greater terror than his earlier bellowing.
    Fear danced in her belly, and yet... Do not say another word, Lily... Do not say another word. She dampened her lips. “His name is Harris.” She’d never been one to go silent in the face of a challenge. The duke gave no outward reaction to her insolent correction, which only further stirred irritation with him. “My name is Lily Benedict and I am here to meet with you.” Then, with the years of politeness ground into her years ago, she remembered to add, “Your Grace.” She forced her chin up another notch. She’d wager her meager bag of possessions that the beast who snarled and hissed at his servants was unaccustomed to shows of rebellion.
    The Duke of Blackthorne continued to study her with a darkly cool, inscrutable expression. She curled her toes into the soles of her slippers, prepared for the jeering laugh of his dead brother. At long last, he said, “Meet with me, you say?”
    A flare of respect shone on the butler’s face and he quickly averted his gaze.
    The young duke stepped aside, daring her with that slight movement to enter his lair.
    What he could never realize is she’d spent the past years in a hell of her own making, so what was one more foray into the devil’s den? In a desperate bid for control, with her chin held high, she yanked her skirts and swept past him.
    The door closed with a soft, ominous click and she jumped, wheeling back around. The Duke of Blackthorne stood with his face in profile.
    Did he seek to deliberately shield that marred half of his once perfect, chiseled features? Another mocking grin formed on his partially-scarred lips. Unnerved by his icy blue stare, she dropped her gaze—to the gold-headed serpent under his gloved hand.
    Lily took in the cane for a long moment. If she required the assistance of a cane, she’d not find that support from a slithering serpent—
    “You are suddenly shy, Miss Bennett?”
    Miss Bennett? Her mind stalled. Hadn’t she used the false name she’d adopted all these years? Surely she’d not been so careless!
    Oh, God. A loud buzzing filled her ears. He knew. Her thoughts spiraled out of control like a too-fast moving carriage careening out of control. Except...as the moments ticked on, she peered at him, searching for any hint of recognition from this man whose brother had ruined her life through one lie and that one shameful, forbidden act. But there was none.
    “Is there something wrong with your vision?”
    That taunting whisper jerked her head up and she blinked back her earlier fear. A giddy relief slammed into her. He didn’t know who she, in fact, was. Just as he saw Harris as Harrison, he’d commandeered ownership of her name. “There is nothing wrong with my