"And now poof," Bella said, flicking her fingers, "they are engaged."
"She loves him?" His brow rose in desperate resistance. As if if he questioned it properly, the answer might change.
Instead, Bella nodded.
"Indeed, my lord."
Henry's mouth went dry.
"The duke is quite lucky to have a woman such as her," Bella said. She kept going, sweetly, innocently, while Henry sat there and died in pieces. "She will do him good, I think."
Henry's smile faded. He lifted the wine at last and drank then sat there listening.
Interested.
Jealous.
Quietly violent in his imagination. Bella, bless her unsuspecting heart, kept speaking of Diana, every word peeling skin from him.
He nodded in all the proper places. Smiled when Bella laughed. Asked a question now and then, careful enough not to reveal how desperately he wanted every detail and how badly every detail wounded him.
The more Bella spoke, the stronger the ugly, pressing need grew inside him. Richard had to be removed.
