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‘What do you want from me?’ she gasped softly.
‘Ramsey is … something of a prude, and as such I do not believe he would appreciate it if my father’s widow, the woman who was my stepmother, and is now the Dowager Duchess of Woollerton, were to become involved in a sordid affair with the man the ton calls Lucifer. Therefore, I advise that you cease your relationship with him before such a possibility occurs.’
‘It is not for you to dictate to me whom I should or should not take as my friends,’ Genevieve refused determinedly.
‘I thought you might say that.’ William sneered at her bravery. ‘But you may rest assured, Genevieve, that if in the next month you should do or behave in such a way which might interfere with my own marriage plans, then I will personally make sure that you regret that behaviour. Am I making myself clear?’ His voice was as hard with cruelty as his father’s had always been.
‘God, how I hate you!’ Genevieve choked, wishing this conversation over, most of all wishing this man’s presence gone from her home, and the memories he had brought with him. Memories of her wedding night, followed by Josiah’s numerous cruelties to her. Of the times she had tried to escape him by running away, only to be brought back and beaten by the very same man who now twisted her arm so painfully.
‘The feeling is mutual, I assure you,’ William sneered. ‘Nevertheless, you will do as I say and immediately break off this scandalous friendship with Lucifer.’ He gave her arm another vicious twist before pushing her roughly away from him, studiously straightening the leather riding gloves he wore as Genevieve stumbled to regain her balance at the same time as she clutched her bruised arm.
How Genevieve hated this man and his father for what they had both done to her. For what William was still trying to do to her.
And she hated him even more for his confidence that she would again do as he had instructed.
‘Leave,’ she managed to choke out.
‘I will go when I am good and ready.’
‘You will get out of my house now!’ She refused to so much as sway on her feet until after William, with one last mocking smile in her direction, strode confidently from her salon and her home.
At which time Genevieve’s legs would no longer support her and she fell down on to the carpet, her wrist and arm hurting so badly that she sobbed tears of pain and humiliation, knowing that the peace she had acquired this past year, her belief that she was finally rid of Josiah, and his equally as cruel and unpleasant son, was completely shattered.
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