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"No respect for the dead." His words came out in silent whispers, his teeth clenched. A small smile tugged on her lips. "Respect is earned in life, my lord. When a man fails to earn respect in life, it cannot suddenly be bestowed on him simply because he returned to the dust whence he came." "At the very least, Lady Atkins, pretend," he admonished. "Pretend to mourn for your husband! You are a woman in mourning! Grief, sadness, decency is expected of you," he growled, stepping so close to her, his nose almost kissed hers. "Not a low-cut, salacious red dress!" She inched forward, jaw set, until she could feel his warm breath on her skin. "And you are a man whose cousin's widow was only a few minutes ago caught with a man on top of her," she shot back, leaning further in until her lips were nearly brushing his as she searched his gaze. "Anger, rage, fury, is expected of you, my lord... Not jealousy!" * Newly widowed, the sudden death of Beatrice's husband has brought about her freedom from the shackles of a loveless marriage... Or so she thinks. All hope is quickly lost when she discovers her husband's cruelty in disinheriting her and leaving her penniless. But worse than his decision to disinherit her, is his decision to leave her at the mercy of his cousin; Noah, the very handsome Marquess of Camden. TW: This story contains mentions of suicide. Copyright © 2021 Lily Orevba All rights reserved.
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