Drake offered another wry smile.
“You’ve thought this through,” Beau accused his friend, accepting his glass.
Drake didn’t retreat. “They did. We’re talking about the destabilization of the country, Drummond. Assassination of royal princes, politicians, and the most beloved general in the history of the country. Do you really want to be responsible for that?”
Beau knew that Drake had the answer long before he asked the question. There was really nothing else Beau could do. He had to find Theo. He had to protect his little brother….
Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and emptied his glass, focusing on the fire as it washed down his throat and into his stomach. His little brother. His little brother he had finally given up for dead. His little brother who had planned to marry Pip.
No matter what happened, Beau knew he would somehow lose.
He had to do it anyway.
* * *
They were goingto put the plan into motion the next day. Pip was fine with that. It was better than being left with too much time on her hands to wade through the stew of emotions the news had produced.
Theo. Alive. It was impossible to comprehend. She had mourned him. She had stood by the monument they had erected in the village church to one of their honored military dead. She had grieved as much as Beau. No, she reconsidered. She had grieved more. She had also grieved for Beau.
And it was all a lie.
She would kill him. She would pummel him like bread dough until he cried like a toddler. She would…
She would do whatever she needed to do to bring Theo back, if for no other reason than for Beau.
He wouldn’t look at her. He wouldn’t reach out to her. From the moment he’d learned that Theo was possibly alive, he had retreated into himself in a way Pip hadn’t seen since those first awful weeks after the news of Theo’s supposed death. He turned down Pip’s parents’ invitation to stay with them and took Pip back to his townhouse on Charles. He made sure Pip wouldn’t leave the house and then disappeared into his study. And left Pip behind to fret alone.
Pip hurt for him. She knew how upended and chaotic she felt. She could only imagine how this was affecting Beau. To know that Theo had been alive just days ago. But not sure whether he still was. It was like being reprieved from the hangman’s noose only to have them hold you at the edge of the scaffold while they decided whether to change their minds. To have no control over the outcome. Beau couldn’t tolerate having no control.
She wanted so badly to simply walk into that study, wrap her arms around him and hold him. She wanted to reassure him that at least she would always be here. She didn’t know that, though. She didn’t even know whether he wanted that. Whethershewanted that. So, she did what she always did when she landed someplace where she felt like an intruder. She made herself busy.
Her peripatetic life once again came in handy, since it had taught her to be not only flexible, but to deal with all manner of servants and living situations. She was going to need that flexibility if she was to deal with the staff here. They were new to her, they were Beau’s people, and it didn’t take much effort to blame the wife when the minute a brand-new husband entered his home he hid away from her.
At least she could communicate with Sullins who she sent into the study to tend to Beau’s hand before she introduced herself to the rest of the staff.
“We don’t have the mistress’s room opened up,” the laconic Mrs. Waters announced, her hands clasped before her. The housekeepers’ keys jingled just a bit at her belt, watery blue eyes wary in a jowly face topped by graying blond hair.
“I didn’t expect you would,” Pip answered equably. “So, while dust covers are being removed and Joyful sees to my wardrobe, why don’t you and I take a tour?”
Mrs. Waters spared an arch look and a sniff for Joyful, who was standing behind Pip. Pip was not pleased.
“Is there a problem, Mrs. Waters?” she asked, straightening to her earl’s daughter posture. She hoped that and her tone of voice carried every ounce of calm warning she could muster.
She also had her eye on Mrs. Waters’ husband, the butler, another starchy sort with more precisely tailored clothing than Beau and a head of hair that flamed red. At least he was casting nervous looks at his wife as if giving his own warning.
“How could there be?” Mrs. Waters finally answered, looking not a whit happier. “You are the new mistress. My sole goal is for the house to suit your needs.”
Pip gave her a radiant smile. “Indeed I am. And thank you. Since you have so admirably suited my husband’s needs—something Pip could not prove—I am certain we shall do fine together. Now, I cannot wait to tour this lovely house.”
She got one sidelong look from Joyful that said volumes, and then was off for her tour.
When Pip could knowledgeably discuss Beau’s favorite meals and accept suggestions in the way of housekeeping order and supplies, the housekeeper began to thaw. Pip knew it would be awhile before they developed an amicable relationship, if they ever did, but she could tolerate the interim as long as Beau was not inconvenienced.
The tour ended in her newly aired-out room that connected with Beau’s through the respective dressing rooms. There was no question that Beau’s Aunt Maude had had a hand in decorating this room as well. The paper was a dull gold that bordered on brown, the curtains and covers an odd pea green. At least the furniture had clean lines and no animal heads or feet. Pip imagined the lady had not had the chance to go shopping.
“When things settle down a bit,” she said, “I shall want to do a bit of redecorating, I think. Till then, this will do fine. Thank you, Mrs. Waters. It is always a pleasure to enter a well-run house. I know you all will make Joyful welcome. I already feel so.”
Stretching the truth a bit, perhaps, but Pip believed in calming roiled waters. It wasn’t until she’d closed the door on the housekeeper that she finally let down. Dropping into a brighter gold armchair before the lit fireplace, she took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes as she considered her new home.
