Chivalrous Read Online Free PDF Page B

than face the beast.
    How many dinners had she spent invisible behind the tapestries? But she was too old for such nonsense—besides which, her large form would surely make a lump in the fabric.
    â€œWhy did I trust you? Worthless fool, I told you, there are ways around Justus’s mandates. I taught you better.” Father barely raised his voice, but he had a special way of adding a barbed edge to each word, and the bulging blue vein on his temple bespoke his anger.
    Reginald kept his gaze to the floor. “Yes, Father. I tried to live up to your esteemed reputation, but I lack your experience and wisdom.”
    Smart man not to argue with Father. It only fueled his fury. But a part of Gwen wished he would stand up to the tyrant upon the dais rather than pacify him as Mother had taught them all to do.
    Father’s telltale vein shrunk to half the size at Reginald’s compliance. “Good thing I have returned. And none too soon.”
    â€œWe are thankful to have you back, my noble father.”
    â€œOf course you are. I only want what is best for this family. Your inexperience has not served you well. But at least the duke speaks highly of you.” Father waved to a servant, and the man hurried forward with a goblet of wine.
    Mother, who had up to that point sat motionless next to her husband, sparked to life at the sight of the rich red liquid, but Father squelched any chance of her requesting her own with a sharp glance in her direction.
    Mother sank deeper into her chair.
    â€œFrom this time forward, my wife is to have no wine except at celebrations.” Father handed down his mandate without so much as a blink.
    Mother’s skin turned a sickly shade of grey, but she uttered not a word. She practically subsisted on wine. Some days, it seemed her only reason for waking in the morning. If Father refused her mead and ale as well, heaven help the poor woman.
    The servant stood gaping at the extreme command.
    â€œIs that clear?” Father ground out between clenched teeth and shot an icy glare at the man.
    â€œYes, m’lord.” The normally confident servant scurried away like a scared mouse.
    â€œGwendolyn!” her father hollered. “Where is that girl?”
    Gathering the courage Rosalind had assured her she possessed, Gwendolyn took a step away from the wall. Perhaps Rosalind was right. If she pleased her father, they might make a new start. “I am here, Father.”
    Father nearly choked on his wine. “For heaven’s sake, stop skulking about like a rat. Come into the light. I wish to see you.”
    He had ample opportunity to see her when they had bid farewell to Hugh but obviously had not bothered to take notice. Gwen lifted her chin as she approached the edge of the dais and stood next to Reginald, but she kept her gaze down in a demure fashion, which she thought might please her father. He never suffered arrogance, especially in women.
    Peeking through her lashes, Gwen watched as he inspected her head to toe.
    â€œHmm . . . lovely hair.”
    Rosalind would be so pleased.
    â€œComely figure. Pleasing features, at least when she wears such a gentle expression. I do recall her scowl to bring out harsh planes on her cheeks.”
    Gwen did not appreciate the way her father assessed her like a cow gone to market and would have been happy to demonstrate that scowl, but she held herself in check. She glanced nervously to Reginald, but he offered no support. Merely slid a few feet to the side, happy to leave her the sole object of Father’s scrutiny.
    â€œOverall better than expected.” As was her father’s reactionto her appearance. Rosalind must have worked miracles with her paints, for Gwen knew her face to be plain at best.
    Father turned his attention to Mother, who flinched ever so subtly. “But could you not stop her from growing so tall? Good heavens, Evangeline, she must tower over half the men in the dukedom. I thought