Which had given him pause, because he had done something similar to her the other night. Perhaps that was it? She clearly hadn’t liked seeing his ex-mistress visit their home, but he had explained that to her. Perhaps he hadn’t explained well.
Fitz burst past the Jennings’s family’s butler without a word and went straight for the stairs of his old home, taking them two at a time. He had made sure his housekeeper, Mrs. Hutchinson, was informed of Georgiana’s illness, ordered her to whip up a tonic for his wife, and to be at the ready for anything Georgiana needed. Once he had been assured his wife was settled and sleeping, he’d ordered his carriage and made for his family’s townhome. He needed his brother. Felix would know what to do. He always knew what to do. He’d been heading the Jennings family since he was only four-and-twenty.
Lord, and at the Rutledge supper party? His hand shot to his chest, digging into the thick fabric of his wool coat. The Duke and Dunmore had closed in on her, and she’d smiled—smiled—at them. He let out a growl. Her smiles weren’t for them, damn it. She belonged to him. She washis. He had been moments from throwing her over his shoulder and storming out of there, scandal be damned. He paused at the top of the stairwell and blinked. What was happening to him? Clearly, love made him bloody loopy.
Fitz shook his head and strode down the family wing of bedrooms in the home he had grown up in and stopped before his father’s old chambers. Now his brother’s. He sucked in a breath. And pounded on the door.
“Felix! Wake up. I need to speak with you. Now!”
Thumps and muffled sounds came from behind the thick oak door. Fitz bounced back and forth on his feet, fingers tapping rapidly over his thigh. Then, blessedly, the door cracked open.
A flushed, disordered Felix popped his head through the small opening. “This had better be important, Fitz,” he gritted out.
Fitz’s eyes welled, burning like the devil. Shite. Shite, shite, shite. Not tears.Hold yourself together, mate.“I think I have r-ruined my marriage.” His stupid, cracking voice betrayed him.
Felix’s demeanor changed instantly, his brow furrowing, eyes sharpening. The head of the household was ready to fix things for his family. “What has happened? What have you done?”
“I-I don’t know. But IknowI did something.”
“Who’s out there?” a deep voice called from inside Felix’s chamber. “Did you invite a friend, handsome?”
Fuck. It would appear Fitz had interrupted his brother during something…important.
“I’m sorry, Felix. I-I will come back later. I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.” Fitz turned on his heel, but Felix’s fist latched onto his coat. Fitz’s body jerked backward, and he stumbled to a halt in front of his brother again.
“Just let me grab my banyan, and we’ll go down to my study. Don’t worry, Fitzy. We’ll sort this out.”
Fitz turned and nodded at his brother’s back disappearing into the bedchamber.
Felix’s muffled voice rumbled through the small opening of the door, “I’m sorry, Benedict. My brother has called, and I need to address this. We’ll have to pick this back up another time. Please see yourself out.”
A clearly upset whine echoed into the hallway, and Fitz winced. But then Felix was popping back through, covered in a silk onyx banyan lined with thick, black velvet, and wasted no time leading them to his study.
Felix pushed Fitz into one of the two leather armchairs and made his way to his sideboard. “All right, Fitz. Start from the beginning. When did you first notice she was upset with you?”
Fitz pressed his fingertips to his temple, squeezing, and frowned. “Urm. I’m not sure exactly. There were possibly earlier signs, but one night she visited my rooms, and I shut the door in her face.” He winced. He chewed his lip, wracking his brain. His eyebrows lifted, and he met his brother’s gaze. “Or… I did abandon her…urm…left her bent over my desk.”
All expression melted off Felix’s face from where he leaned against the sideboard, and he blinked dumbly at Fitz. His mouth worked and eventually managed a disbelieving, “Bent over your desk? As in—”
“She asked me to spank her,” Fitz argued. “I panicked.” As any highly anxious chap would.
“Sodding hell, Fitz. Hand meets flesh. It’s not that difficult.”
Fitz glared daggers at his brother. “It is not simple for all of us. Regardless, I thought we had moved past that, but I know when she saw me today paying Adelaide in my study—”
“Adelaide?” Felix sputtered, nearly tossing his freshly poured whisky all over the floor. “Adelaide was in your home? Adelaide, your ex-mistress? Was in the home you share with your wife?”
“Yes… Earlier this evening before the supper party. I realize now I probably shouldn’t have had her come to the house.”
Felix shot him ayes, you have that fucking rightlook.
“I told Georgiana that!” Fitz said defensively. “I told her I wouldn’t have Adelaide come to the house anymore.”
Felix’s eyes went wide, and he inclined his head in disbelief at Fitz. He threw back his whisky and closed his eyes. “Let me see if I have this straight. You want a happy marriage with your wife?”
Fitz nodded.
“So, you invited your mistress over to the home you share with said wife to have sex with her? And then told said wife, you would only tup your mistress outside the home from now on. Am I following?”
