The table was laden with platters of food—scrambled eggs, bacon, and a dish of dark-brown objects resembling mushrooms that glistenedin a brown sauce topped with green flecks.
The decanter of port was still on the nearby cabinet. If there was ever an occasion for liquor, this morning was it.
The young maid from last night scuttled in, carrying a teapot. “Bless me, yer lordship, ye’re already down. I just need to fetch the milk, then I’ll leave ye in peace.”
She cocked her head to one side and gave him a saucy grin. “Shall I make up a tray for Lady Dev-row? I suspect she’ll be wanting to keep to her bed for a bit this morning.”
John raised his eyebrows, and Charles signed,I’m damned if I know whether she’s joining us.
“Just bring the milk, miss,” John said, “and…”
He trailed off and dipped his head in a bow.
“Good morning, Lady Devereaux.”
Charles turned to see his wife—Olivia—standing in the doorway. Other than a slight color to her cheeks, she gave no sign of distress from her ordeal of last night. He reached for his signet ring and ran his thumb over the facets of the gemstone.
“Good morning, Mr.…” She nodded to John. “Forgive me, I don’t know…”
“It’s John.”
“John.” She fixed her clear gaze on Charles, and he felt his stomach curl with shame. “Good morning, husband.”
She dipped into a curtsey then sat at the opposite end of the table.
“I’ll wager it’s averygood morning,” the maid said with a chuckle. She bobbed a curtsey then exited the dining room, humming to herself.
Olivia cast her gaze over the table, her eyes bright with distress.
“I think you’re supposed to help yourself, ma’am,” John said. “If you wish, I could serve you. There’s bacon, eggs, and…” He glanced at the final dish and raised his eyebrows.
“Devilled kidneys,” she said, a slight smile on her lips. “They’reEleanor’s favorite. I’d never had them until I went to live with my brother.”
She spooned some onto her plate, then paused and glanced at Charles.
“W-would you like some?”
Charles shook his head, and her smile disappeared. She picked up her knife and fork, hunching her shoulders like a hunted animal striving to make itself appear smaller in the vicinity of a predator.
Bloody hell, what the devil was he supposed to do with her?
The door opened and the maid returned with a milk jug which she placed on the table. She eyed Charles’s empty plate. “Not eating, your lordship?”
She glanced at Olivia, then grinned.
“Ah—ladies first,” she said. “Might as well continue what ye started last night!”
Olivia looked up, and the maid chuckled.
“Ye’ve a fine husband there, yer ladyship!” she said. “I heard ye! Screaming yer pleasures, beggin’ him to come back inside.”
Trembling, Olivia lifted a forkful of food to her mouth, and Charles’s heart ached to see the distress in her eyes.
“Ha!” the maid cried. “I see ye blush. It’s no wonder ye’re eating first. Needin’ yer strength, I’ll wager. It’s a wonder ye can walk, given the size of him!”
Charles slammed his fist on the table. The fork slipped from his wife’s grasp and clattered onto the plate. He gestured to the maid, then to John, his hands shaking with anger.
“Please refrain from making such remarks,” John said. “They’re not suitable for the ears of a lady.”
