Wells handed over the letter without meeting his man’s eyes.
“’Tis the last post I let you read, Wells,” John threatened. “Over my dead body.”
“Your dead body, is it?” Wells snapped, returning to his wits. “It’s come to this then, already? Marriage to Eleanor Merrinan driving a wedge between us? I told you this would happen, John. I told you falling in love would?—”
“Y’ don’t know a damned thing about love, sir, or you’d not be snatchin’ letters from me and instead go talk to the one woman whose poor heart you’ve broken more times’n?—”
Wells was livid. “You speak to me again like that Cuthbert and I’ll?—!”
The expression on his steward’s face stopped him short.
“As yer mate, Wells, I believe I’ve every right t’ say me peace, but as yer steward, no, I s’pose I don’t.” John’s eyes narrowed. “So if y’ regard me as servant only,Yer Grace, I’ll take me leave now.” His stare bored into Wells. “Only don’t ever call me mate again.”
And with that he walked out, leaving Wells crushed by his best friend’s words.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Charles knew she could no longer avoid the inevitable. She needed to see her sister and father, and she’d need Wellesley’s permission to do so. She knocked on the parlor door with trepidation and was told to enter by the Duchess, who was taking tea with Miss Mowry and his lordship.
“Begging your pardon, Your Grace, Miss Mowry.” She curtsied to both before she turned to Wells. “My lord, might I impose a moment? I’m afraid it’s rather urgent.”
The Duchess immediately interjected. “I hope it is nothing serious, Mrs. Merrinan?”
“I hope not either, Your Grace, but my father’s health has taken a turn, I’m afraid.” Charles’s eyes locked on his lordship.
“Then you must go to him at once, Mrs. Merrinan.” The Duchess turned to her son. “I am sure Roland can spare you, can’t you dear?”
***
Wells wanted to throttle his mother yet again. “Imake the decisions here concerning staff,Maman,not you.” He promptlystood and motioned Charles out the door, stomping into the next room over—yet another dust-coated space riddled with grime. It would take an army of servants to fully clean the Abbey, for in truth Charles and her girls had made barely a dent.
Wells launched straight in. “So, your father is sick and you wish to visit. When? And for how long?” He’d let her know he was displeased by her distance of late.
“I should like to leave tomorrow first thing, if I may, my lord. I’ve asked Ruby to stand in for me and I will return before nightfall, unless my father worsens. I realize the timing is unfortunate, sir, but if anything were to happen to him I should never forgive myself for not?—”
“Of course you must go,” he interrupted. “If he is that poorly you must go at once, today yet, but I shall expect you by dinner tomorrow, and if you are not back by then I will come fetch you myself.”
“My lord, if I should need to stay longer I would?—”
“You will return by dinner as that is my order, Charles.”
“Your order?” Her voice raised a notch. “As I do not know how ill my father is, I can scarce promise my precise return, sir, surely you understand this.”
“Understand?” He inhaled a breath to quell his anger. “I understand very little these days, miss, as you have been avoiding me most blatantly, avoiding even looking at me lately, let alone sharing my bed.”
“Avoidingyou, sir?” she got out, her face clouding over. “It is you who haveavoided me these weeks past, fawning over Mowry’s fat dowry while you sample all the niceties a well-bred young lady has to offer a man of your ilk.”
“Myilk?” The mouth on this woman! “I do not care a whit for Mowry, Charles, and you know it.” He hauled her to him. “I care for you, damn it, and I am tired of you avoiding your nightly duty to me simply because she is here.”
“Duty?” She struggled in his grasp. “You speak to me, of duty, sir?”
Wells tightened his grip, relishing the feel of her flush against his loins, the smell of her as his teeth grazed her earlobe. “Yesduty, Charles,” he hissed. “Now do your duty as my mistress and?—"
“My duty is clear!” she cried, twisting in his arms. “It matters not whether you care about Miss Mowry, sir.” He could feel her heart thudding against his chest. “What matters is that she will be yourwife, and so it is your duty not to dishonor her by bedding your mistress right beneath her nose.”
“Spoken like a true lady,” uttered a voice from the door, brittle with fury. “You’d be wise to heed your housekeeper’s words, Roland.”
Maman.
