Page 77 of Deviant Duchess
Deborah’s brows furrowed.
“What is so bothersome about his brother’s reputation?” She asked, and then her spine went stiff. “He is…he is not one of those men that goes to the auction for mistresses, is he?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Beatrice replied hurriedly.
Deborah relaxed upon hearing so, but only a little.
“Then what could be so awful about him?” Deborah asked.
Beatrice shook her head.
“Not a thing. Henry is a good man,” she insisted.
This only further perplexed Deborah. If he were such a good man, then why would he need a marriage to protect him? Still,despite her curiosity, Deborah did not push. Some secrets were allowed to be kept, and it seemed to her that Beatrice had good reason to keep that particular one.
“So,” Beatrice sniffled, seemingly a little calmer after baring her pain, “What on earth are you doing here? I thought all was well with you?”
Deborah let out a humorless laugh.
“It was for a while,” she confessed, “I believe that is how I ended up here. I allowed myself to become too comfortable. I forgot important things. Gravely important things and instead focused on too much joy and pleasure.”
She shook her head, willing the tears suddenly glistening in her eyes to go away, “But that is done now. I am back to my purpose, and I am formulating a plan.”
Beatrice gave her a confused look and then, to Deborah’s surprise, grinned.
“Could you be any more vague?” She asked, and both of them let out an exhausted laugh.
“I suppose since you told me your tale, I should tell you mine,” Deborah sighed, “But please keep it to yourself. The only other person who knows is my husband, and that did not end well.”
Pain lanced through her heart as she said the word.Husband.And it was not his fault that it did not end well. He was trying to help, but she had pushed him away for fear of her own distraction. It was not a man hurting a woman this time. It wasshewho had hurthim.
“Deborah, you cannot!” Beatrice whispered vehemently after Deborah told her everything, including the next step of her plan.
“You cannot go back there, Deborah; you do not know what they will do!” Beatrice insisted.
Deborah shook her head, her mind already decided on what she was about to do.
“I need to catch him. I need to make him pay for what he did to my sister,” Deborah replied, eerily calm despite everything, “And if that means going back to the auction and selling myself again, then so be it.”
Beatrice’s eyes shone with worry as she vehemently shook her head.
“He will recognize you. He will insist you are a threat to the business. He will not admit to anything, you know he will not!” Beatrice insisted, her voice rising to a shout.
“Easy, darling, easy,” Deborah soothed, reaching out to give Beatrice another quick hug. “Everything you said is true. Those are real possibilities. But they are the only possibilities I have left.”
Beatrice shook her head as she leaned out of Deborah’s embrace.
“There has to be another way,” Beatrice insisted. “Can you not ask your husband for more help? The way you described him, he seems very willing to do whatever he can to assist you.”
Another bout of pain, so ferocious that it nearly gagged her, hit Deborah square in the chest, causing her pent-up tears to break free.
“No,” she breathed, lowering her head. “No, I cannot rely on him anymore. I have to handle this myself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“You,” Nigel said, running his eyes down Deborah’s body. “Didn’t think I’d see you back here.”
Fear trembled down Deborah’s spine as she was recognized. She had done the best she could to disguise herself, even going so far as to wear a honey blonde wig and layer on cosmetics. There was nothing she could do to hide the color of her eyes, though, and as Nigel looked back up to them, she knew that was what had given her away. Still, it was too late to back out now.
