Stiffening, Robert regarded her with an expression of regret. “I think those ghosts we talked about last night might have had some influence on what I said,” he admitted.
“Robert,” she whispered softly. “What’s happened. What haven’t you told me?”
He surveyed the area around him, as if he, too, was concerned they might be overheard. “I never told you about my father. What he did to my mother. How foolishly possessive he was of her,” he murmured, his gaze turning to his mind’s eye. “And yet, I know exactly how he felt, because I have been experiencing it with you of late.”
Ivy swallowed. Although she had never met his parents—both long dead before she married Robert—she had frequently wondered why he rarely spoke of them. “You’re feeling... possessive?” she asked in a quiet voice.
He nodded.
“Well, I suppose I am your property since I am your wife,” she reminded him.
Giving her a quelling glance, he dipped his head. “I never thought of you like that, Ivy. But something happened at Gladstone Hall, and...” He stopped and raised his face to the ceiling.
“Whathappened, Robert?” she asked in alarm.
“I, uh...” He cleared his throat. “I nearly pummeled the butler to death,” he stammered, his voice strangled.
Ivy inhaled sharply, her brows furrowing in shock. “Hartfield? But why?” was all she could think to ask.
“The housekeeper?—”
“Mrs. Hartfield?”
He nodded. “Yes. She, uh, brought tea to my study... the day before I came here... and, uh, her face was all bruised. Said she fell,” he added, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, dear.”
“It all came back at once, Ivy. All those times I saw my mother like that.” He closed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear it of the memory.
“Oh, Robert,” she breathed in a whisper. “I... I had no idea. You never spoke of it.”
“Of course not. I had thought it was all dead and buried with them,” he murmured. “When I confronted Hartfield—I found him in his office—he acted as if he had done nothing wrong. ‘The late earl did it to his wife all the time,’ he told me.”
Ivy swallowed, her eyes wide with fright. “He was the ghost,” she whispered in awe.
Robert turned to look at her directly. “All that rage I felt... it all went into my fists,” he said, holding out his hands. The scuff marks on the back of his knuckles had faded, but one was still swollen.
Even though she had noticed them the night before, Ivy’s gaze dropped to study them. She lifted the one with the injured knuckle and leaned down to gently kiss it. “I’m so sorry, Robert.”
“I probably would have killed him if his wife hadn’t screamed for me to stop.”
Tears pricked the corners of Ivy’s eyes. “And then?” she prompted.
“I fired him. Told him to pack up and get out, and that if I ever so much as saw him again, I would have him flogged.”
Ivy inhaled softly. “And Mrs. Hartfield?”
He gave a start. “Well, I didn’t lethergo,” he said. “I told her she was under my protection, and I told her that she wasn’t to go with him.” He paused a moment. “Truth be told, I do think she was relieved to be rid of him.”
“No doubt,” she said on a sigh. “So... did Hartfield leave?”
Robert nodded. “He did. I, uh, immediately promoted the under butler, and I went and hid in my study.”
“Sanderson?” she guessed.
He nodded.
“He’ll do fine,” she assured him.
