“Well, my dear, dear sister,” said Dain. “You look stunning this evening. A new gown, I take it?” His amber eyes traveled up and down her body.

Vicky’s stomach lurched. “You swine,” she spat. “How dare you look at me in such a fashion?” So much for being polite.

“Why, Lady Victoria, such language,” he mocked.

She narrowed her eyes. “But then, I suppose I’ve answered my own question,” she continued. “Swine are too bestial to have a conscience. Indeed, they enjoy wallowing in the mud.” Elizabeth Bennet’s subtlety had deserted her, but blast it. Dain deserved to know what he was!

He put his free hand on her arm and squeezed. The motion would look like fraternal devotion to any onlooker, but it was becoming more and more painful by the second.

Vicky gasped.

He chuckled deep in his throat.

How had he hidden his cruelty all these years? She tried to move away, but his grip tightened. She suppressed her grimace.

She spoke through clenched teeth. “Take your hand off me.”

“Or what, dear sister? What can you possibly do?” He smiled again.

Bile rose in her throat. So this was the monster Thea had lived with for two years. But his question remained: What could she do? What if he took her out of the ballroom? Who knew what he might do to her if they were beyond the gaze of prying eyes?

Vicky’s heart drummed in her chest. Maybe she could knock him in the face with her reticule, or if worse came to worse, somewhere more painful, but she couldn’t do that in the ballroom without appearing mad. If she waited until he took her somewhere private, there was no guarantee she’d be able to break free of him.

Suddenly, an answer came to her. She spoke loudly so the guests nearby would overhear. “Oh, Lord Dain, the ribbon on my slipper has snapped. Pray excuse me. I am certain someone in the retiring room will be able to assist me.”

He tutted with false concern, then gestured to the side of the ballroom. “There is a chair. I shall fix it for you.”

She raised her voice again. “No, no. I’d much rather retire for a moment.” If she said much more, the entire ballroom would think she needed the privy.

He pulled her to the edge of the ballroom. “My dear sister, I could not possibly part with your company.” His hand gripped her arm like a vise.

Vicky narrowed her eyes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he could do this to her. “Take your hand off me, or I swear to scream the truth to the entire ballroom,” she whispered.

“What truth would that be?” he drawled.

“That you’ve been beating my sister to within an inch of her life and you’re taking me outside to do the same to me.”

He laughed. “I’m afraid, dear sister, no one would believe you.” His lips curved into a sneer.

His repeated use of “sister” made her itch to slap him. “Perhaps not now. Not yet.”

He gripped her arm even tighter and angled his body to face her. “Just what does that mean?”

Her stomach dropped. She’d said too much. Althea had only been in London a week and the lawyers couldn’t start the proceedings for her legal separation yet. Her mind raced for an answer to distract Dain. “That you will reveal your own character. Just as you have tonight.” She glared at him, refusing to blink.

His lips twisted in a snarl. “Do not try my patience,” he said, anger infused into every syllable.

Before she could say another word, Dain abruptly released her arm and stepped back.

“Lady Victoria. How lovely to see you again.”

Vicky’s throat went dry. She turned and saw that, to her simultaneous joy and dismay, Tom stood beside her.

Tom smiled and took Vicky’s hand.

She could hardly believe it. He’d sought her out amongst the hordes of people here? She blinked several times, trying to guess his reasoning. A short stillness ensued until Vicky realized she’d left her hand in his grip a hair longer than was proper. She pulled her hand back and cast her eyes down, hoping her heated cheeks weren’t noticeable.

“L-Lord Halworth, what a surprise.”

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