“Are you certain? Did the Lombard say who bought it? And the terms of the loan…” She frowned. “Has it truly been so long since you?—?”
“That’s just it, Lizzie. I had enough to buy it back and had every intention of doing so, but then Arthur dragged me to Gretna, and when we returned all thought was only for Milton,and now…” She looked distraught. “I am so sorry, sister, truly. I never meant to lose it.”
Elizabeth sprinkled pounce on her page. “Given the Baron’s present mood, Bella, I doubt very much he will inquire after some necklace.”
In truth, the only business Milton inquired after anymore seemed to be business itself. He holed himself up in his office to pore over what? His overflowing coffers and the daily newspapers? She knew he took long walks with Mutton and even longer rides in Hyde Park, by all outward appearances healed from his ordeal. At least, the doctor no longer stopped by.
“Lizzie, is the Baron still unwell?”
Elizabeth hated when Annabelle read her thoughts. “I do not wish to speak of him. I wish to hear from you, sister.”
Only Bella did not say more. Instead, she stood there and wrung her hands in the same annoying manner as Papa.
“Dear, in a week’s time you will come of age. Have you discussed your future at all with Mr. Harris? Because I must be honest. The law makes it exceedingly difficult to—Bella, would you cease twitching!” Elizabeth could not take a second more.
Annabelle dropped with a thud into a chair.
“Please be frank with me about your feelings for Mr. Harris.”
And Bella was. She declared herself utterly, miserably in love with Arthur Harris, who lamentably, regrettably did not love her back.
Elizabeth was not surprised by her sister’s impassioned response, but it was hardly love Annabelle must feel for the man. Love existed in myth and story only, not in the misery of everyday life. Surely, Bella confused gratitude for affection when it came to Mr. Harris. Though gratitude was not the worst way to begin a marriage.
She feigned a headache so that her sister would leave, her thoughts returning to her own cur of a husband who did notmerit her concern in the least. She deplored how the entire household now tiptoed about the Baron as if he were a fragile vase, or worse, a box of lit tinder. She couldn’t stand the fact she lay in bed nights debating going to his room, begging him to tell her all that plagued him.
Elizabeth knew what plagued him: demons neither she nor anyone in this house could vanquish. Instead, they all walked on eggshells about their master while he spurned every attempt at approach.
Her only comfort had been her brief conversation with Mr. Kilpert—and her writing, which she’d taken up with a vengeance.The Brooding Barongrew more dark with every page she penned, for the hero was no longer the lady’s savior. He was a thorn in her side, his motives obscure.
She shook off the pounce and re-read the last line she’d just inked .
No longer did the brooding baron eye his captive with a lecherous, bold gleam. He now abandoned her for days on
Elizabeth dipped her quill in ink.
end, locked in his rented room, to go where she did not know. The landlord alone delivered the lady sustenance, tasteless fare, but she ate it nonetheless. She was determined to survive.
Only the landlord soon sent a servant in his stead, a lackey instructed to ignore her every plea, but she would not give up her attempts. The lady began to converse with the servant at mealtimes, using every feminine charm she possessed. And slowly the man spoke back, grunts only at first, until she’d gleaned he, too, was a prisoner in this house, beholden to the wicked baron.
She must break not only her own chains now but help this poor servant break his. Perhaps in solidarity there was hope. Perhaps together they might defeat the baron.
The lady had no choice but to try.
From outside, in the hall, Milton observed them hunched over a book, seated so close their foreheads almost touched.
Inside him, something snapped.
He stepped into his parlor. “Kilpert, I did not give you permission to tutor or seduce my wife.” His snarl made the scholar jump and Elizabeth drop the book.
Kilpert instantly stood. “Jasper, I assure you, I have not?—”
“You most certainlyhavebeen making love to my wife in a most egregious manner.”
“Milton!” Lizzie’s initial elated expression quickly turned to dismay. “Why, nothing could be further from the truth. Mr. Kilpert simply?—”
“How dare you shamelessly cavort with another man under my roof, woman?”
“Jasper, please,” Kilpert beseeched. “This is a simple misunderstanding which?—”
