“As glass.” Mrs. Harris nodded briskly. “It shall be as you desire.”
He arched his brows when she did not run off at top speed.
She blanched. “Straight away.”
“Thank you.” After his housekeeper hurried to warn the others, Titus strode back into the receiving area. He flicked his wrist at Buttons. “Take her upstairs and do your job. I don’t want to see either of you again until I’ve slept and breakfasted.”
“I’m standing right here,” said Miss Dodd.
“Then I needn’t repeat myself,” he said coldly.
Rather than appear chastened, she wished him a cheerful good night before disappearing up the stairs with her lady’s maid.
Titus didn’t realize he stood there in silence, watching her go, until the butler’s voice nearly startled him out of his boots.
“She seems truly lovely,” Kelly commented.
“She’ll be gone in three weeks,” Titus snapped. “I cannot wait for the return to normalcy.”
He strode off before the butler could respond. Titus did so more out of self-preservation than a desire for rudeness. Kelly was an observant old goat. Titus had no wish to know what, precisely, might have been observable on his face as he gazed after Miss Dodd.
The earl had a plan. He always had a plan. And this one was simple: Never allow her under his skin. The most important lesson he’d ever learnt was that if you refused to let yourself care about someone, then losing them could not hurt.
Titus would not care about his ward. He was looking forward to her imminent departure.
If he was grumpier than usual, well, it must be due to her disruptive presence and not the prospect of renewed peace and solitude in three weeks’ time.
Chapter 18
Titus awoke mid-morning, more determined than ever to concentrate on ignoring the new presence in his household. Pretending they were not living together now, would make the transition all the easier once they separated for good.
In fact, the wedge he did his best to drive between them was more for Miss Dodd’s benefit than his own. Titus was the worst person with which to cohabitate. Ha. An understatement. Others would be wise not to allow him into their lives at all.
People like his little brother, whose thinning and yellowed baby blanket Titus woke up every morning with his face pressed deeply into, as though the aged and fraying material still held any trace of Oliver’s long disappeared scent.
Foolish, illogical self-indulgence. Titus flung the blanket from his bed in disgust. Another traditional part of his morning routine.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and propped his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. Burying. Apt. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered that tiny coffin… and his starring role in the tragedy. After suffering less than a minute of Titus being Titus, all three of his family members lay crumpled and lifeless. He was destructive. Toxic. And he had no business seeking any comfort from his long-dead brother.
Titus launched himself out of bed. He scooped up the limp square of linen, rending it into a dozen jagged pieces with a mighty roar. There. The tie was severed at last. He had never deserved a connection to begin with. Had never merited the affection of anyone foolish enough to bestow any upon him.
Without the blanket to give him a false sense of forgiveness—
The door swung open and the earl’s valet Augustin rushed into the bedchamber. “My lord, are you all right? I heard an awful noise.”
Awful. That was Titus. Without turning around, he swiped his palm surreptitiously over his cheeks then stared down at the ruined scraps littering the floor by his feet.
“It’s nothing.” His swollen throat was almost too tight to force the words out. “Gather up these rags and burn them.”
“Burn them?” Augustin crept forward hesitantly, then sank to his knees to gather up the last remaining pieces of Titus’s baby brother. “I am certain that Mrs. Harris or one of the maids could—”
“Burn them.” Titus’s fists dug into his sides as his stomach churned. “Then leave me in peace. I’ll dress myself. I’ve no need of your services today, and if you ever question an order again, I shan’t see any need for your continued services in the future.”
“Yes, my lord. Understood.” Augustin scrambled to his feet and backed out of the room, bowing and scraping as he went.
Titus didn’t look up from the floor until the door shut tight and he was alone once again.
His muscles did not relax. The opposite. He felt worse than ever. It took every ounce of his iron will not to chase after Augustin, knock his valet to the ground, and snatch back every single scrap that had once belonged to Oliver.
