Beautiful Torment *Book One of the Beautiful series*

6) The deal

The sharp sound of its snap came, but to her surprise she felt no pain. Lucy's eyelids cracked open to see the manservant standing between them, the end of the wretched stick within his grip. Madam Caledonia's mouth fell open in shock. She tried jerking her end of the cane away, but the servant did not relent.

"Alexander," the Duke said tensely, giving the man a pointed look.

With a scathing reluctance, he released the cane and moved to the Duke's side without so much as glancing at Lucy. The young girl shook, but found her bearings enough to lower the tray onto the tea table.

"You were saying?" The Duke said as if nothing had happened, though Lucy could feel his gaze on her.

Madam Caledonia snapped her mouth shut and straightened her white wig and the amethyst necklace that matched her dress. "I was saying that my maid Rosalind would be perfect for you. Obedient and efficient in her workings."

"Hmpf," the Duke responded and began pacing the room.

Lucy watched how the man servant, Alexander's, eyes followed him wearily, a growing suspicion in them. Losing his patience with his master, he spoke roughly. "Come, Leopold, we have spent far too much time here already." That fire burned bright in his dark irises again. A sight stirred some primal sensation within Lucy. The feeling she had not known she was capable of until the night before.

Madam Caledonia's mocking laugh broke the spell Lucy had to blink away. "Leopold? You let your servant speak to you this way, my lord? If he was mine I would have him beaten within an inch of his ungrateful life."

"You could try," the muscle in Alexander's cheek clenched. He turned his piercing gaze onto the old woman and, to Lucy's delight, she paled in fear and stumbled back into the satin loveseat.

Surprisingly, the Duke did not react to his servant's brazen behavior and instead looked at the young girl before them. "Is this Rosalind?" He asked, gesturing her way as if he had not heard her called by her name already.

The Madam looked confused for a moment before coming back to herself. She cleared her throat. "No, this is Luciana. An incompetent and unruly fool, my Lord."

"Perfect," the duke smirked. "I will take her."

Alexander released an animalistic growl that chilled Lucy to the bone. "No," he looked to his lord, speaking plainly. To Lucy's bewilderment, he was not struck down for it.

"Forgive me," the duke said, laughter dancing in his eyes. "My manservant is obviously very tired," he spat the sentence towards Alexander but held the Madam's gaze.

Alexander leaned in, whispering angrily at him, but the Duke only waved him away like an annoying insect. "I shall pay any price you deem fit for her, Caledonia."

Lucy could have sworn her heart stopped beating in her chest. She spent all this time worrying after Victoria that she hadn't stopped to think about her own safety—or about the Duke's earlier threat to her. In hindsight, she should have seen this coming and hidden herself away until they left. Instead, she stepped right into the jowls of the beast.

Looking to her Madam and was shocked to see a flash of hesitancy in the woman's eyes. She fiddled with her cane, her expression muddled and unreadable, before coming back to herself. "It will cost her weight in silver," she finally said, refusing to look at the young maid.

The Duke nodded, grinning, but Alexander grabbed his arm and whispered roughly in his ear again, the words inaudible.

"Yes, yes," the duke muttered in response with a wave of his fingers.

Lucy caught the servants eye then, a brief glimpse that told all. His expression was painted with a mixture of regret and disgust. But for what? She wondered. Did he regret acting in her defense, going against his master's word and interjecting himself in affairs above his station? The girl, herself, worked hard to choke back the pleas building on the tip of her tongue. The tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks. She wanted to beg the madam not to sell them–if not for Lucy's sake, then surely for her daughters. Maybe the madam did not realize what a terrible man the Duke was. Perhaps she was so blinded by his silver, his gold, that she could not see what was so clearly right in front of her.

Certain that this Alexander would not step between her and the cane again, Lucy bit her lower lip, smothering her words before a single one could draw a breath of life. Her hands balled into fists, nails biting crescent moon imprints into her palms with such force she provoked drops of blood. Pain steadied her body, but the room around her became like a dream. The three others were ethereal wisps, their voices nothing but the humming of wind.

It was not until she felt a hand on her shoulder that she snapped from her delaria, eyelashes fluttering like wings. His touch was fleeting, but it left a burning warmth in its wake. Alexander looked at her, a hint of what could be concern smoldered within his gaze but became replaced by a sudden cold detachment. It was then she realized they were alone, the madam and Duke had slipped away—likely to finalize the agreement in her study. Or perhaps to tell Victoria of the unhappy news.

Lucy looked down at her trembling hands and then back at Alexander still standing in front of her, staring off towards the large bow windows that opened to the tangled gardens outside, past the marble terraces.

"This is your fault," she said suddenly, her voice shaking.

Her words caught his attention, earning her a sharp look. Some of his raven black hair fell across his forehead, but he quickly swept it back with an angry brush of his hand. "How on earth do you fathom that?" The question was cold, leaving no room for warmth or reproach. It sent a shiver–equal parts thrill and unease–through Lucy's small frame, but she fought against the fear.

"If it were not for you, I would not have stumbled through that door! What were you even doing lurking around the grand house?" She snapped.

"Looking for something to eat. Unfortunately, I missed dinner last night."
The jibe caught Lucy off guard. She could not tell if he was serious or teasing–his face gave nothing away.

Still stewing, and at a loss for words, she started to turn away from him, but his deft fingers reached out and captured her chin. The hold was nothing like the Duke's had been earlier. It was not painful or demanding, but rather a ghost of a touch that left her feeling breathless as she stared into his dark eyes. They grazed over her face, lingering on her powder covered handprint. Lucy briefly wondered if he could see straight through the thick concoction. Or if his lord had bragged about the act. Her mind recoiled at the second assumption. Somehow, she knew it was not the correct one. That if he knew what had happened, he would be furious.

Something in his expression softened a fraction as he stared at her. She breathed in his scent–notes of oak moss, cedar, and cypress filled her senses. Inviting, clean, earthy smells that reminded her of a forest after rainfall. She could not deny that up close, in the light of day, he was even more extraordinarily handsome than she believed him to be the night before.

"You should leave this place," he whispered. "Flee while you still can. The Duke will not be a kind master."

Lucy sucked in a deep breath, her heart fluttering as she peered up at him. But then a feeling like molten steel rose in her stomach. "I would not forsake Victoria. She is little more than a child. She will need me for what is to come."

He released a humorless laugh, shadow falling over his striking features. "You think you are being noble, Luciana, but that notion will be your doom. You can not save the girl now, but there is still time to save yourself."

A throbbing ache squeezed through Lucy's body. Why had she expected anything else from a man who served someone like the Duke? Of course, he would not understand honor or friendship. Or doing the right thing. She jerked her chin from his grasp, being let go without a fight, but he did not look away. "You misunderstand, sir. My doom was thrust upon me the moment I was born."

All of Lucy's emotions hardened into one: determination. She would go with the Duke quietly. And whether it be days, or years, she would free Victoria from his clutches. They would escape–sail oceans, climb mountains–whatever it took to rid themselves of these villains.

Alexander dropped his hand to his side. It disappeared into the fur-lined edge of his black cloak. And then he bowed slightly, without breaking their eye contact, before sweeping out of the room and leaving her alone.

Without him there, the air suddenly felt absent of all warmth, and a void of emptiness withered within her chest. But she tried to tell herself she was only imagining it. After all, a man so cold could not possibly invoke anything but ice.