She inhaled through her nose, not trusting herself to open her mouth. This was Jules’ mother. She’d been brutally honest with her, at least, Charley would credit her with that.
It didn’t mean that she would fall into the countess’s plans, however.
“You understand then, why I must insist you remain in your chamber and keep away from my other guests.”
“Out of sight, out of mind?” The words came out before Charley could check them. Because surely, that was precisely what the countess meant by all of this. It was essentially what Crabtree had told her already.
“You do understand.” This time, Lady Westerley’s smile was almost genuine.
“Oh, my lady, there you are!” One of the housemaids had rushed around the corner. Her mob cap askew, and soot smeared across one of her cheeks. “Beg my forgiveness for interrupting you, but there’s been an accident in the kitchen—well, not an accident exactly, but Mrs. Jenkins and Cook are at one another’s throats and the lamb has been knocked into the fire.” The woman was obviously distressed, wringing her hands in front of her. “Mr. Goulding sent me to find you before anything else goes awry...”
The countess threw her hands in the air. “Those two must learn to get along.” She turned back to Charley. “We do understand one another, don’t we, Miss Jackson?”
“Perfectly.” Charley couldn’t help but stare at the painting on the wall and wondered if Jules’ father would have approved of his wife and Lord Brightley’s methods.
He had signed the contract, after all.
At Lady Westerley’s hesitation, Charley added, “You mustn’t worry about me. I’m perfectly capable of returning to my chamber on my own. It seems you have other important matters to attend to.”
The older woman narrowed her gaze. “I trust you’ll do as I’ve asked.” Her gaze traveled from Charley’s face to the tip of her shoes and then back up. “Because, trust me, Miss Jackson, I’ll stop at nothing where my son’s happiness is concerned.”
“Neither will I, My Lady,” Charley answered in the quiet after the older woman’s departure. “Neither will I.”
Chapter 27
ROCK? MEET HARD PLACE
Jules’ temples pounded as sunlight filtered through his closed eyelids. He wasn’t in his bed. A piece of paper stuck to the side of his face when he pushed himself to a sitting position.
The contract.
Charley.
And scotch. So much bloody scotch. If the pounding in his head wasn’t punishment enough, the dry sick feeling in his mouth ought to do the trick.
He’d made his decision and then done his best to drown the resulting guilt with his grandfather’s thirty-year-old Scottish whisky. It was what one did, after all.
A groan from behind the settee alerted him that he was not, in fact, alone. Forcing himself to focus, he identified Chase reclining along the leather settee and Mantis sprawled on the floor. Stone, Peter and Greys would have roused themselves enough to return to their respective chambers.
Oh, yes. Greys had bid them goodnight after finally winning the chess game.
After which, Chase had opened a fourth bottle. Or had it been the fifth?
A tightening in Jules’ gut gave him just enough warning to grasp hold of the nearby waste bin.
“I far prefer the sounds of birds chirping to welcome the dawn of a new day.” Jules lifted his gaze up in time to see Chase sitting up and smoothing his shirt as though they hadn’t downed half the alcohol in the manor the night before.
“Go to hell.” It wasn’t original, but Jules felt none too chipper.
Mantis laughed and then groaned from his position on the floor.
Jules located a handkerchief he kept in a drawer, wiped his mouth, and then dropped his head onto the desk again. Sitting up was far too painful. How the hell was he going to stand? To walk? He needed to see Charley and make sure his mother wasn’t going to harass her. It had been late by the time he’d bid her goodnight at her chamber door. She would have been safe enough overnight, but he needed to talk to her before she came down for breakfast.
She could not face the guests alone. Until he announced their engagement, she’d be ostracized.
This was something he should have considered before consuming what had remained in that last open bottle.
Jules sat upright and braced himself against a second wave of nausea before pushing up from his chair.Deep breath.
