His wife. Even in the privacy of her own thoughts she was confusing herself with Teddy’s actual wife.
What a mess. What a perfectly torrid affair she’d initiated, she thought, spooning up the crab bisque set before her.
She forced herself to eat. Not wanting to waste food, though, in truth, the longer she sat here, without Teddy, the less appetite she had.
She glared at the ceiling. How dare he put her through this. If she had said or done something off-putting, he should speak up, not leave her to suffer with this not-knowing.
Not-knowing.
Teddy suffered with that. Had it ever really occurred to her how horrible that might feel?
Peggy shuffled back into the dining room. “Madam, pardon the interruption, but before I forget, Cook bid me ask you something.”
“Oh?”
“She wishes to know what you’d like done with the herbal tisane delivered to the kitchens the night you arrived home with the master.”
Georgina blinked, trying to make sense of Peggy’s question. “I beg your pardon?”
“The tisane, ma’am. Pardon my saying, but Cook says it has a foul odor. She’s kept it in the pantry, but seeing as no one’s seen fit to use it, now wonders if it couldn’t be stored elsewhere, or, perhaps, disposed of all together.” Peggy waited, her expression expectant.
Georgina surged to her feet. “Show me.”
For a moment,Georgina could only stare at the bag Dr. Penhurst had sent home with her from Bell Haven. Anger ignited within her, a tiny flame that swiftly spread ’til it threatened to consume her.
Teddy had promised her he’d take his required doses. Danvers had sworn to administer the tisane, three times a day. Neither had honored their word. Both had lied, right to her face.
First, she would brew the tea. Then she would march it up to Teddy’s chamber. After that, she would inform Mr. Danvers his services were no longer required.
“Put the kettle on, Peggy, and bring a fresh pot.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the maid murmured, eyes wide with evident anxiety, and set off to do Georgina’s bidding.
Trembling, Georgina glanced about her. “Where is a scoop? I need a scoop.”
“Aye, milady,” Cook said, as she, too, bustled to obey.
Then both women seemed to freeze in place. They eyed the doorway as if seeing an apparition. A moment later, a shadow fell over Georgina. Mr. Danvers.
She turned her head to glare at the butler. “Mr. Danvers, what brings you to the kitchens?” Her words could have cut glass.
He nodded once in turn at Peggy and Cook, sending both scurrying from the room.
Georgina watched their flight, flabbergasted by their desertion. “Now, see here,” she began.
Mr. Danvers paid her no heed. “Let them go, ma’am. I’m thinking you’re wanting an explanation, and, I’m also thinking you’ll be glad of the privacy, once you hear what I have to say.”
Struggling to steady her breathing, she nodded. “An explanation would be most welcome. You disobeyed a direct request. Not only that, you lied about it. I trusted you, Mr. Danvers. Your betrayal comes as a very great shock.”
Damn her eyes, she was on the verge of tears. With effort, she tamped down her temper and met his dark gaze.
“I understand. I shall do my best to explain, and afterward, will pack my belongings.”
“Go on.”
The whistle on the kettle began to sing.
With deliberate movements, Mr. Danvers, who evidently knew his way around the kitchen, retrieved a hot mitt and pulled the kettle from the open flame. “When you arrived with Lord Arlington in the state he was—half inebriated and unkempt—I admit to suffering no small shock. I first assumed he’d gone the way of many an ex-soldier, taking up the drink while losing self-respect. I knew of him, you see, your husband.”
