Chapter Eleven
“ ‘Thou canst not or wilt not see wood for trees’. There are some people that need things pointing out…with a big stick…and a sign.”
Mr Daniel Lockwood – classical scholar, philosopher and bachelor / Brian Melbancke (1583).
Rook sank down into his bathtub. He and Jack had managed to sneak into the house via the servant’s entrance. Some of the guests were still breakfasting, but most were instructing their servants on the packing – he could hear Lady Minkworth shouting at one of his footmen from here.
He could only hope that Clara had yet to leave, as there was no way on God’s earth he could have met with her earlier: he stank of stale beer, sweat, and his mouth felt foul. His valet, Daniels, was abed with a sick stomach; otherwise, he would have instructed him to forestall her departure. A young man attended him, but strangely, he hadn’t lifted his head once, and Rook wondered if he was a tad simple.
“Do you happen to know if my sister is breakfasting?”
“S…sister?” the man stuttered in horror.
“Yes, Lady Dewsbury.” The valet looked even more horrified, and Rook felt sure that the man was a bit of a nodcock.
“Her ladyship, ssshe has breakfasted,” the man said in a rush.
“Very good. I want to be ready as soon as possible, so if you could lay out the dark blue.” The man nodded his assent and ran from the room. Rook didn’t have time for inexperienced valets; he let his head clank on the back of the tub. Could the day get any stranger?
ΦΦΦ
“There you are.” Rook heard the snarled words as soon as he had stepped from the door of his chambers. Hestia. He breathed in deeply and turned, aware he owed his sister an apology as well.
“Hestia –”
“Don’t you ‘Hestia’ me, you blackguard! How could you treat Clara like that? And then to spend the night with some tavern harlot? Men! You are all the same. Loving one day, and then, cavorting with some trollop the next.”
Rook reeled from the assault. He had expected a reprimand, but Hestia was livid – he had never seen the like. What was she talking about?
“Hestia, love –” Once again he was cut off.
“You selfish…rakehell.” Rook struggled to contain a smile at the insult. Only Hestia could make the word sound prim.
“Don’t you dare smirk. Clara has already left, and she thinks you the worst scoundrel.” That did take the smile from Rook’s face.
“I have come to apologise to Clara about my conduct last night. I know I was wrong, but a rakehell, Hestia? That’s a little strong –”
“Hah! Clara and I know about that tavern trollop youvisitcalled Betsy. Did you think you could keep it a secret?”
“What?” Rook spat out, getting riled. “That was years ago. I spent the night with Jack.” Rook hoped that sounded better – it didn’t seem to.
“Well, your man seemed sure, and Clara was very hurt. How could you treat her so, Rook? You completely ruined the last night of the party.”
“I will explain to Clara, and I will apologise for my behaviour last night. I will also relieve that damned valet of his duties, as I had no inclination to bed anyone last night. My only thought was to get as drunk as a wheelbarrow. As to the party – thiswasall your idea, Hestia. I didn’t want to host a bloody house party in the first place. What were you thinking? A whole week of bloody games and beastly people like Minkworth in my home.”
“Don’t you dare speak nastily of Lady Minkworth!” Hestia fired back. Rook couldn’t believe it – since when had Minkworth gone up in his sister’s estimation? “Your old mistress was right,” Hestia scorned. “You are a selfish, arrogant, jug-bitten bounder.Not everything is about you. Don’t you notice anything except your own pleasure? I didn’t have a party for your benefit – it was for mine.” Swiftly, all anger left Rook, as he saw tears form in his sister’s eyes.
“Hestia –” He reached out for her, but she shrugged off his touch.
“You didn’t even notice…didn’t even notice that Nathan can’t even bear to look at me lately. Can’t bear my touch…” Hestia broke down in a sob, her fist held to her mouth.
“Hestia, no,” Rook countered. “Nathan loves you –”
“If helovesme so much, then why won’t he talk to me? Why is he so cold? Why hasn’t he touched me since Harry was born? Not even a hug or a kiss. It’s been nearly six months, and the other night, he… he said he didn’t want me anymore. Not in that way.”
“But –”
“No, no more! You don’t care, and evidently, Nathan no longer has any use for me either. You can all go to the devil! My carriage is readied. I am collecting Harry from London, and then I am leaving for Somerset. You and Nathan can sort out the guest’s departure, as I have had enough.” Before Rook could respond, she turned and fled.
