“It seemed like the ideal solution to all of our problems.”
Anthony glared at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
He hardened his jaw, resisting the urge to cross the space between them and shake her until her teeth rattled. “You will sing Miss Quinn’s praises from this day onward. In fact, you will make a conscious effort to have her welcomed into Society.”
“How on earth am I to accomplish—”
“In addition, you will donate your allowance to her for the next three months.”
Miss Amanda gasped. “You cannot be serious.”
He narrowed his gaze on her. “You have spread lies and deceit in the most underhanded way imaginable. Be grateful that I do not demand more.”
“But Westcliffe. I need those funds for outings, clothes, and other necessary purchases. With the Season still underway, it would be impossible for me to manage without.”
“Punishments ought to be felt, which is why I’m choosing to make this part of yours.” When she glared at him in return he said, “Should you decide to try and thwart me in this, should you attempt to hurt Miss Quinn further, or me for that matter, I will make sure every respectable door is closed to you henceforth. In fact, if even the slightest rumor containing my name or Miss Quinn’s should reach my ears, I will assume it was caused by you, and in return, my retaliation will be swift and unforgiving. Do I make myself clear?”
“I don’t—”
“Miss Starling,” he growled, the last of his thinly held control beginning to waver. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear? Or will you have me drag your father into this debacle as well?”
Her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”
He held her gaze. “Good.”
“If I may, I’d like to—”
“That will be all.” He gestured to the door.
She stood, her posture lacking its usual self-assurance. “I’ll bid you good day then, Your Grace.”
“Good day, Miss Starling.”
He waited until he heard the front door close behind her before summoning Mathis.
“Yes, Your Grace?” the butler inquired when he appeared.
“Please have an overnight bag packed for me and the carriage brought round. I’d like to leave for Hitchin within half an hour.”
As soon as Mathis assured him he’d see to it straight away, Anthony made his way to his study. There he penned two quick notes addressed to Brody and Callum. His friends would need to know that he wouldn’t be meeting with them this evening. They also needed to be assured that he would keep working on the book.
He’d take his lap desk with him and write while he travelled.
Somehow, he’d have to find the presence of mind to focus, despite feeling as though the world was crashing down over his head.
17
Ada stared out of her sister’s parlor window while sipping a cup of hot tea. Her mind was in turmoil and her heart in absolute tatters. She wondered how long it would take for either to be restored to normal.
“Why not come sit with me?” Bethany asked, her voice hushed on account of her baby daughter who slept in a cot near the fire. “There’s plenty of mending to keep your hands busy.”
“The problem is not with my hands,” Ada muttered, her gaze tracking the rain as it fell against the window pane and slid down the glass in long streaks. “And sitting makes me restless. I’ve been doing so most of the day, first this morning, then in the carriage, and finally here after my arrival.”
The only exercise she’d gotten had been the brisk walk she’d taken to Berkley Square and back. Perhaps it was time for another, regardless of the weather. It would in all likelihood help calm her thoughts. Which fluctuated between regret, anger, and absolute misery.
“I simply meant that it ought to provide a better distraction than looking out the window.”
