The blood shot up, some trickling in warm droplets down his skin, as another drop landed on his eyelashes, pooling red in his vision.
“Face me!” Catherine demanded. “Show me some pain. Show me the devil can be hurt!”
He wouldn’t dare give in. So many times she had hurt him in his life. Sometimes, he had thought she hurt him just to displace her own pain onto him. Other times, he had thought it was because she just wanted to see the son she despised so much could be hurt by her.
I won’t be hurt. Not anymore.
“Face me!” she demanded.
She wants to see the blood.
“Don’t find me again. If I ever see you again, you will regret it, Catherine.” He addressed her by her name, coolly.
He opened the door, about to march out when he found himself face to face with Maggie. She stared at him, her jaw going slack as her eyes landed on the cut on his cheek.
No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Theo,” she whispered, “did she…?” She raised her hand toward his cheek, clearly about to wipe the blood away. He blinked madly, trying to get the blood out of his eyes lashes.
“Face me, Theodore!” Catherine yelled again, clearly unable to see Maggie for Theodore blocked her from view.
Unable to speak to either of them, Theodore grabbed Maggie’s hand before she could touch his cheek. He dragged her away as they walked down the corridor, hurrying as fast as he possibly could. At the very least, Catherine’s yelling voice didn’t follow them.
“What just happened?” Maggie asked in panic. “Did your mother do that to you?”
“Not now.”
“But… you’re bleeding…”
“I know what a little blood is like,” he muttered, more to himself than to her at all.
“What does that mean?” she said wildly.
He just kept walking out of the house as fast as he could. In the entrance hall, he practically snatched Maggie’s pelisse out of the footman’s hand and hurried to put it around her shoulders. Cedric appeared in the drawing room doorway a second later. He looked as flustered as Theodore felt, his face red.
“Honestly, Theodore, I didn’t know.” Cedric shook his head.
“I know.” Theodore jerked his head as he nodded. “She gets everywhere. She’s like smoke that way.”
“Don’t go yet,” Cedric pleaded. “You know what she is like. She’ll leave now she has made her point. Stay, have a nice time. Please, cousin.”
Theodore took his frock coat out of the footman’s hand and shrugged it on over his shoulders. He caught the bloody cut on his face by accident, smearing it across the side of his head. Afraid to get it on his jacket, he snatched up a handkerchief, then grunted under his breath as he smeared it across the sleeve of his jacket.
Maggie was suddenly there. She had a handkerchief of her own and was wiping the blood off his cuff for him. It was a moment of calm, simple, small, and disappearing all too fast as her hand lowered away from him again.
“We’re not staying,” Theodore muttered. “We’re going home. At once.”
Cedric nodded, reluctantly.
“Then… goodnight.” Cedric sighed. “And to you,” he turned to Maggie and reached for her hand.
An anger ripped through Theodore. It was like white hot lightning, and he saw Cedric’s fingers nearly brush Margaret’s own. He reached out fast and closed his hand over Margaret’s, pulling her away and turning to face Cedric.
“Don’t touch her,” he seethed under his breath.
“Cousin.” Cedric’s mouth fell slack.
“You heard me.” Theodore turned and dragged Margaret down the front steps and toward the carriage.
