Discovering the Devil

S e v e n

VII

HARRY didn't wait to hear the collective gasps of horror and disbelief from onlookers as his step-sister continued her performance. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of his stepmother's dress and her pearls, and he certainly wouldn't wait for her rebukes. He whipped around and stalked out of the ballroom, through the doors of the castle, and into the night air. "Hawthorne!" a gruff voice yelled. Harry barely had time to turn around before a fist cracked against his jaw. Harry reeled from the blow and his vision was spotted with blackness. Once his vision cleared, the identity of the assailant was apparent. Solomon. He'd probably been dying to punch him the entire evening. "How dare you?" Solomon yelled.

"How dare I?" Harry echoed. He spat out a mouthful of blood as he cradled his jaw.

"You've ruined my engagement party."

"I've never heard a man complain about an engagement party."

Solomon's jaw tightened. "You had no business coming here."

Harry smiled bloodily. "I was invited." Solomon neared Harry again, presumably to deliver another blow, but Harry stepped back. His sardonic grin was gone. "You're not Charlotte, Solomon. If you touch me again, you'll regret it."

Solomon clenched his fist but he didn't come closer. "Why do you feel the need to interfere in my life after all this time?"

"Tonight wasn't about you," Harry replied flatly. After all this time, this man still believed the world revolved around him.

"Then why were you here? Hm? What could've possibly convinced you to come?"

"That's none of your business."

Solomon opened his mouth to say something but shut it once they both heard the sound of footsteps. Once they both saw it was the Duke of Fordham, Solomon released an audible sigh of relief. The elder duke patted the younger's shoulder, an apology of sorts, and Solomon gave Harry one last glare before stealing away. The Duke of Fordham's exact emotions were hard to pinpoint, his face was a hardened mask, but Harry swore he saw the disappointment in those deep, dark eyes. Good. His father deserved to be disappointed. Father and son stood staring at each other for several moments without saying a word.

"I want what I was promised," Harry finally said, breaking the silence.

"You think you deserve a reward after what just happened?"

"I didn't do anything! It was all Charlotte!"

"You let her provoke you."

"I didn't let her do anything!" Harry yelled. All the anger and bitterness of the unbelieved boy at fifteen was bubbling to the surface. "All I did was move her away. I would never push a woman that hard. Especially Charlotte."

"Your sister---"

"--step-sister," Harry corrected stonily.

"---has always been one for theatrics, especially when it comes to you." The duke sighed. "You should've extricated yourself from the situation better."

"I should've extricated myself from the situation better?" Harry didn't know why he was so incredulous. The blame would always fall on his head, no matter how blameless he actually was. "You're her parents, or at least one of you is. Why didn't you do anything to stop her?"

"It wouldn't have been wise."

"It was wiser to let her beat and badger me?"

"You have to have more self-control, Harry. Having a confrontation with your sister is one thing but in front of a room of people?" The duke shook his head. "It's going to be next to impossible to find you a wife now."