Charles pushed his plate aside and his fork clattered onto the floor. John’s laughter died.
“What’s the matter, sir?”
Charles lifted his trembling hands.I’m not obliged to tell youeverything.
John tilted his head to one side. “You’ve had the dream again, haven’t you? I should have known, considering how you behaved toward your wife, poor lady.”
I’ve done nothing to her.
John snorted. “You gave her a fright when you grabbed her at the top of the stairs, then marched off as if the very touch of her disgusted you. She could be forgiven for believing that you want nothing to do with her. But she’s hardly likely to suffer your mother’s fate.”
Why not?
“Because you’re not your father.”
Charles sipped his tea, wrinkling his nose at the sickly-sweet taste. Why was it that sugar was supposed to calm a person’s nerves yet the taste of it made a man want to retch?
“You shouldn’t have married her if you were going to shut her away and ignore her,” John said. “Women don’t like to be ignored.”
I shouldn’t have come here.
“What, to breakfast?”
Charles shook his head.To this cursed house.
“It’s just a house,” John said. “It’s what you make of it that counts. Mrs. Brougham was right in that the house needs happiness and laughter. But the responsibility for that—and your little wife—lies with you.”
I don’t pay you to cast judgment.
The valet shrugged and took another mouthful of bacon. Charles waited for a response, another remark about his inadequacies as a master and husband, but none came. They continued to eat as the longcase clock in the hall outside struck eight times.
At length, Charles gestured with his hands.
My wife fears me.
“Is that why you ignore her?” John said. “Why you refused to dine with her last night? Perhaps you find her as distasteful as that pie?”
Of course not. Don’t be a fool.
“Then do something about it,” John said, his voice rising. “You made a vow to her brother, and Whitcombe isn’t a man to be denied. With your estate still in need of funds, you cannot forgo that additional ten thousand. You must consummate the marriage. Surely you can’t find herthatrepulsive? If I were you, I’d…”
John froze, then muttered a curse.
The skin on the back of Charles’s neck tightened as he caught the faint scent of rose.
No…
Gripping the edge of the table, he rose and turned to see his wife standing in the doorway.
John leaped to his feet, as if a hot poker had been inserted into his arse. “L-Lady Devereaux, good morning.”
She parted her lips as if to respond, then closed them again, the color draining from her face.
“Will you join us for breakfast?” John said. He approached the place setting opposite Charles and pulled the chair back. For a heartbeat she stared at it. Then she shook her head and retreated, her footsteps fading into the distance.
“You should go after her,” John said.
And frighten her even more?Charles signed.I have things to do.
