“Yet the moment our guests leave additional staff will be unnecessary. I’d prefer we simply muddle through until?—”
“My lord, we are running ourselves ragged, and any staff hired now will surely be needed once you . . .” She stopped herself.
“Once I what?” His face clouded over.
Charles drew herself tall and stuck out her chin. “Once you marry, sir.”
The resounding silence in the room was deafening.
“Andwho, exactly, has informed you I intend to marry, Miss Merrinan?” Lord Wellesley’s face had fallen precipitously, yet Charles knew there was no going back.
“My lord, I think it is apparent to all here that your mother, the Duchess, has delivered you a bride.” Hurt crept into her voice.
“I see,” he spoke slowly, the calm before a storm. “Which means I must do her bidding, eh? Must marry whomever my mother chooses for me? Marry Miss Mowry?”
Charles grew impatient. “I do not presume to know whatyouintend to do, my lord. I know only what it is the Duchess rather blatantly hopes will happen. And as it is required that a duke marry and produce heirs, it is reasonable to assume you will someday marry. And seeing as how a perfectly respectable opportunity has been presented to you now I can only assume you are at least considering it. Sir.”
***
Her voice sounded pinched, Wells thought. Fierce, even.
“Oh I am considering it, Charles.” He pushed back. “I am considering marrying Miss Mowry and keeping you as mistress. In fact, she told me just today she shouldn’t mind that arrangement in the least, said she’d even welcome it.”
“Howdareyou, sir! How dareyou speak of me to her as if I?—”
“I did not mention your name, Charles.” He’d riled her good this time; he could feel his loins throb in response. “I merely asked her opinion on a mistress, which she wholeheartedly condoned, embracing the fact it would relieve her of wifely duties she seemed none too keen to embark on.”
“Wifely duties.” Her eyes blazed at him. “No doubt you look forward to despoiling another virgin, sir, as she is pretty enough, I daresay, to turn your ravenous head.”
“Oh she is plenty pretty, and yet shockingly leaves me cold. Why do you think that is, Fox? Why is it that ever since Cuthbert dragged you from my coop into my parlor I seem unable to imagine despoiling any other woman but you?” He stepped towards her, predatory.
Charles stepped back. “I am but a convenience to you, sir,” she parried, no longer his tamed pet. “You said as much the day you sentenced me to serve your bed. I am but a convenience and amusement, and as soon as you marry I will leave this house and never?—”
But his lips cut her short in a brutal, bruising kiss, hands shedding her of her dress with a need days in the making, years it felt like. She was his, damn it. He did not want the insipid Mowry, he wanted his Fox, he wanted his mother gone, and he wanted back the life he’d begun to build here at the Abbey with his Cumberland mistress, to hell with everything else.
***
Charles relieved Lord Wells of his clothing with the same blind need his lordship displayed, for she was deuced if she’d let him go easy into the arms of another woman. He’d marry, and she’d leave, but right then she would take what she bloody well wanted and damn well deserved. Her sister was not entitled to all the happiness in this world nor was Miss Mowry entitled to all its comforts. She’d demand her share too, right here upon the floor of the shell room, under the illusion of stars and sea. She would grant herself the right to want more from life than she’d damn well been given.
She would take fromhim.
In the end Charles left Wells naked and asleep upon the floor, draping his clothes over him to tiptoe back to the musty room she now shared with Ruby and Ginny. She realized she could not continue in such a manner with him, not with his mother and near-betrothed under the same roof. She would not go to him again save for household matters. Hell, shehadonly intended to speak to him about such matters tonight. And look how they’d ended up . . .
She stomped back along the dark corridors. She would have to speak to Wells about Cuthbert and her sister yet too. Everything she’d intended to discuss with him had fallen from her mind the moment he’d kissed her. Why oh why did this man have such power over her? How had she ever allowed him entry to her heart?
She heard her mother’s voice, from years past, suddenly echo in her head:Care for your sister and father, protect them for me, Charles, but protect your own self too, darling girl. Promise me this, for you, dear daughter, are equally precious.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Wells watched Miss Mowry across the table break her fast. The lady was indeed not unattractive. He’d have no trouble bedding her for an heir, and she was young enough, at nineteen, to no doubt be fecund. With any luck he’d get her with child within the first month of marriage, meaning he needn’t touch her again for another year at least. Then, once a second heir was born he’d be done with her entirely. And so long as he convinced Charles to remain his mistress . . .
“Roland, dear, what are you mulling this morning?” The Duchess broke his reverie.
“Mulling, Mother?” He looked up. “Why, matrimony.” He kept his gaze cool. “I have been mulling matrimony,Maman.”
Her own eyes widened, as did Miss Mowry’s.
“Well, that is indeed a pleasant subject to be mulling, dear.” She coolly smiled back. “Might you share your thoughts upon the subject with us?”
