“No harm done, Lady Burchester. Unfortunately, the same can not be said for your dress.”
Caroline looked down. Her dress had several drops of ink on the bodice.
She stood up carefully just as William was moving around her chair to pick up the other pile of receipts. They bumped into each other, she intent on getting to Jones quickly to try to rescue the dress, William likely concerned about the papers.
Her body against his for a fleeting second. Meaningless. But then they could not seem to get out of each other’s way. She went right as he went left and their bodies almost touched again. She jerked, her legs hit the chair, and he put a hand on her upper arm to steady her.
“Will!”
She looked to the doorway. Her husband was standing there. She took a step away from William who let go of her arm.
“Trying to manage a bit of an ink calamity with Lady Burchester—”
“That’s not all you’re trying to do with my wife.”
Her husband was pale, fists clenched.
“No. No, Phin—” William started.
“You’re a snake. Coming here, wanting help, and at the first opportunity, getting close to my wife,” Phineas snarled.
“It’s all totally innocent—”
“I should beat you within an inch of your life.”
“Phin—”
“I want you to get out of this house now. Never come back.”
William placed the receipts down on the table carefully and moved the inkpot away from the edge and put the stopper in it. He took off his spectacles and placed them in his tailcoat pocket. He bowed to Caroline.
“My apologies, my lady.”
William walked toward the doorway and Phineas, stopping to bow. “Lord Burchester.”
“Out,” Phineas seethed.
William walked out the door, and Caroline could hear his steps in the passage, receding. She forced herself to look at her husband. He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at a wall. His face had gone from white to red. His fists were still clenched. Lavinia was against Caroline’s leg, growling, teeth bared. She put her hand down on Lavinia’s head to calm her.
If only she could find the words to do the same for her husband.
“L-l-l-lord D-d-dagenh-h-ham d-d-did n-n-nothing wrong.”
Phineas slowly turned his head to look at her. The once-twinkling eyes were filled with suspicion. The full lips were compressed in a line. Another side of her husband she had never seen before.
“I saw how close you were to him, how you were looking at him, Caroline. You were letting him touch you.”
“I d-d-d-d-d-d—”I did nothing wrong, too.
“What?” her husband barked.
She took a deep breath. “Y-y-y-y-you’re m-m-m-mist-t-t-taken, Ph-Ph-Phineas.”
“If you’re not guilty, why are you stuttering?”
Who was this man? This was not the man she married. This was not the man she was promised. This was her father, all over again.
Thirty-Three
