She, he would hurt without a second thought or the smallest regret afterward. She’d destroyed him, utterly. She’d killed his future and made a fool of his master and polluted the house.
Now, when it was too late, the duke had discovered his mistake. Why else would he leave his new bride behind and set out on a lengthy journey at the height of the Season?
Harrison set down the newspaper and refilled his coffee cup. He stirred in a few lumps of sugar and added a generous dollop of cream. Though he’d fallen on hard times and was temporarily inconvenienced, he was far from impoverished. The room might be smaller than what he was used to, yet it was comfortably appointed, and his friends kept him properly provisioned.
This wasn’t much solace for a man utterly and irrevocably ruined, who had no future worth having. Still, so long as he remained in London, it was better to be comfortable than not.
He was exceedingly sorry for Mary. She’d hang for sure. She should have known him better, after all these years, than to take fright over a few drunken ravings. In any case, she could do him no harm and their enemies no good. She didn’t know who his friends were. He had helped line the pockets of the high, middling, and low. He had friends among the goldsmiths, linen drapers, and furniture makers. He knew tavern keepers and innkeepers, fishmongers and bakers and vegetable sellers, tea and coffee and spirit merchants, the candle makers and coal merchants and more. There wasn’t a trade in London in which he didn’t have at least one friend.
Mary didn’t know who they were. She’d always preferred not to know. Thus she wouldn’t know, any more than the Runners and patrollers and constables and magistrates did, where he was.
He put her out of his thoughts and turned his mind to dealing with the cause of all their troubles.
He turned his mind to the first day he’d met the Harem Girl and the way she’d humiliated him in front of a footman. Keeping that incident at the front of his mind would keep off regrets. The next time, he wouldn’t need to stupefy himself with drink. Next time, he’d leave everyone else out of it. He’d do what any good servant must do. He’d remove from Marchmont House what should never have been allowed into the house in the first place.
He couldn’t expect thanks for it, but he was used to being taken for granted. A proper servant, in fact, took pride in being taken for granted. And as always, the good servant must derive his satisfaction from a job well done.
Tuesday, 12 May
The Duke of Marchmont took leave of his wife with a reluctance obvious to onlookers on the other side of the square. He didn’t care how obvious it was.
When she followed him out to the traveling chariot, he gave his neighbors the shock of a lifetime by making his horses wait. Instead of springing into the carriage, he held her hand and repeated all the instructions he’d already given—twice—indoors.
“You will not leave the house,” he said. “You will not step into the garden until the footmen have patrolled it first for intruders. And then you must have Jarvis with you at all times. With her umbrella. Promise me.”
“I promise, I promise,” she said.
“While you’re here, the servants can keep you safe. Outside of the house, you’re vulnerable.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I know you will.”
“Perhaps, after all, it would be wiser to take you with me,” he said.
“It’ll take me hours to pack, and if I go with you, the journey will take twice as long,” she said. “Men never make a fraction as many stops as women want. This way, you’ll be back in a few weeks—perhaps as little as a fortnight. Then we can enjoy the rest of the Season.”
“I can’t believe I must leave you alone while I go away to quarrel about fishing rights, of all things, at such a time.”
“They wouldn’t send for you if it wasn’t necessary.” She stroked the front of his coat. “Please don’t fret. I won’t be alone. I’ll be safer here than anywhere else. And I shouldn’t enjoy going out to any sort of entertainment without you, in any event.”
“I worry that you’ll be bored, Zoe. When you become bored, terrible things happen.”
“I won’t be bored at all. I’m excited about refurbishing the house. I’ll have plenty to do, looking at fabric swatches and paint charts and deciding how to arrange the rooms. If I begin to feel dull, I’ll send for my sisters to argue with me.”
He gazed down at her for a long while, into her sparkling blue eyes and sunny countenance. “Perhaps you won’t miss me very much after all.”
“I shall miss your body very much,” she said. “But while you’re gone, I can think of new and different ways to make use of it.”
He wondered what new and different ways she could devise that she hadn’t already done. Still, she did seem to have a boundless imagination.
He laughed and grasped her waist and lifted her off the pavement. “I’ll keep that notion in mind, to warm me at night in my cold, lonely bed.”
He kissed her, and she wrapped her arms about his neck and gave him a no-holds-barred kiss in return. She didn’t care who was watching, either. She never held back. With Zoe it was all or nothing, always.
He set her down again slowly, relishing the feel of her soft body sliding along his. They were scandalizing the neighbors, no doubt. Ah, well, he was besotted with his wife. What did he care who saw? Let them watch and let them talk about it all they liked.
