The Invisible Husband

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The Invisible Husband Page 4

by Cari Hislop


  Adam carefully put his feet on solid ground before grabbing his brother by the coat collar and dragging him close. “She heard you!”

  “There’d be nothing to hear if you used your backbone. What is wrong with you? If you’re in love with the woman…go speak with her.”

  “Keep your voice down!”

  Luke rolled his eyes, “She can’t hear…”

  “She heard you!”

  “She wants to know why you married her so go tell her. I made a complete ass of myself…” Luke Latham found his coat collar repossessed as he suddenly stared into one angry eye.

  “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything; that’s the problem. She wanted to know why you married her and I couldn’t think of a reason that was believable. I couldn’t lie and say her beauty transfixed you, could I? She’s not exactly…” Luke’s next words were lost as Adam shook him in frustration hissing curses on meddling Lathams. “You’re ruining my new coat!”

  Adam’s single green eye gleamed with murder. “Don’t say another word to my wife.”

  “I can’t go without taking my leave. She’ll think me…” Adam grabbed his brother by the cravat and gave him the evil eye. “…you’re…choking me…” Adam released his brother and turned away fearing his distress would gleam in the faint light coming in through the secret doorway. “…go explain yourself old man; I told her you’re in love with her.”

  Adam turned back in horror. “You did what?”

  “I told her you’re in love with…no don’t…choke…”

  “If I didn’t know you meant well with your mindless meddling I’d… Comment-diable! She must think me deranged…she must think me the greatest lunatic in the Kingdom.” Adam groaned as his heart shrieked with panic.

  “Perhaps she fancies Bedlamites…can’t…breathe…”

  Swamped by agonising disappointment and an uncomfortable desire to kill his brother, Adam released the younger man and reluctantly glanced up at the peep hole before dragging his brother back through the secret door and closing it behind him. “Do I look like a happy man? Do I look like I appreciate your meddling?”

  “I’m sorry Adam…I was only trying to help.”

  “If you want to help, leave and let me pretend this whole Gothic melodrama never happened.”

  Two beautiful eyebrows rose in horror. “You’re not going to annul the marriage?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “But you love the woman…not that it makes any sense to me, but clearly you wouldn’t make such an ass of yourself if… Where are you going? You’re not going to break your heart just because I told her you love her? Adam! You can’t send her home…her parents are awful.”

  “So are her in-laws.” The hoarse words spattered his cravat. Adam had to reach his room and lock his bedchamber door before the pain in his chest erupted into audible sobs.

  “Adam…” Luke bravely thrust himself in his older brother’s way and grabbed his arm. “You can’t send her home! They forced her to marry you. If you send her back they might hurt her…” Adam clenched his teeth as he felt the blow. He’d caused his Eve harm. He stared past his brother as tears dripped down his cheek and prayed his brother would disappear. “…but she doesn’t appear to mind being your wife. You’re not going to kill yourself are you? You know Jonah hates farming. He’d rather join the Navy than be a Lord and you know he’s terrified of being eaten by a whale.”

  “You’re right; it would be cruel to make Jonah a Lord and force him to worry over next year’s harvest. I shall face eternal heartbreak with stalwart bravado for Jonah!”

  “Don’t sneer Adam, you know we’d all be miserable without you.”

  “Yes, who’d bail you out when you got into another scrape?”

  “Give me your word of honour that you won’t hurt yourself or I’ll tell Lady Latham her Lord was just watching her eat through a peep hole.” Adam gave his brother the evil eye before pressing past and moving mindlessly toward his room. Even the first time he’d looked in a mirror after losing his eye hadn’t made him feel so wretched. The woman he longed to hold thought him as mad as the rest of his family. “Adam, promise me you won’t kill yourself…”

  “Of course I’m not going to kill myself…” The younger man sighed in relief as he ran after his brother. “…I’m a coward. If I can’t face my bride, I’m hardly going to find the nerve to face death…”

  “I’ve never known anyone who was less of a coward…remember that time…”

  Adam paused outside his room and hissed, “I don’t want to remember anything!” Slamming his door he locked it and tore off his eye patch. Throwing it on the floor he cursed his impetuous heart. He’d have to face her…he’d wait till dark. Numbly falling face first onto his bed he lay there listening to the clock tisking in contempt at his cowardice as the day wore on. He’d never been afraid of anything or anyone until his heart resolved to rest in the arms of Miss Eve Venables. He sighed into his coverlet as the image of Eve sitting at his table swirled through his brain. She was the perfect Lady Latham. He should have kicked his brother out the front door and faced his fear, but it was too late for should haves.

  He had three options; keep his wife whether she hated him or not, annul the marriage or give her a choice. His heart insisted he choose the first option, but his heart’s inane demands had landed him in the mess to begin with. He was going to listen to his head for once and let his wife choose. Whatever she decided his silly romantic heart would have to accept. His heart blanched at the possibility of losing her. He could feel it writhing in his chest, but for once it was going to be ignored. It would have to suffer ‘til nightfall before learning its fate.

  Chapter 9

  As winter twilight faded into early darkness Eve returned to her chamber and had her maid help her undress. “I’ll wear my dressing gown over my chemise until my Lord sends word that he’s ordered dinner.”

  “Very good my Lady…but…”

  “Yes?”

  “When his Lordship remains all day in his room he normally orders a supper tray.”

  “Then I shall have one as well. Does he often remain all day in his room?”

  “No my Lady; only when he’s…upset.”

  “And what usually upsets his Lordship?”

  “I couldn’t say my Lady.”

  “Yes you could.”

  The maid glanced towards the hidden communicating door and lowered her voice. “His family often upset him with their helpful schemes. His Mother is particularly helpful.”

  “I look forward to meeting her.”

  “She’s a good woman. She loves her sons.”

  Eve looked into the maid’s eyes and understood the silent admission. The mad Mother hadn’t wanted her son to marry her. Perhaps the woman wasn’t mad. “You may comb out my hair. I’ll remain in my room the rest of the evening. I’ll have a dinner tray at six and pot of hot chocolate at eight with two cups.”

  “Very good my Lady.”

  Eve waited until the door closed on the chamber maid before stretching with a loud yawn. Her feet were sore from hours spent wandering around her new home. Thankfully the fussy decorative clutter in the dining room hadn’t spread to the rest of the house. There seemed an endless number of pleasant rooms hinting at her husband’s habits.

  Lord Latham’s library had given the most solid evidence of the man’s personality. His desk according to a brass plaque on the front of it had been made from the timbers of some shipwreck. A large globe on the desk was worn from handling. Three large map books on the floor were open to various countries as if waiting to take a bored mind away from England. His desk was a mountain of untidy piles of papers and books. A man’s lorgnette for the opera and what looked like an ordinary rock were being used as a paper weights. Seven open novels in various stages of being read looked like they’d been thrown face down, one on top of the other, as if the man couldn’t decide which one to read and so decided he wouldn’t read any
of them. An ancient black and red Grecian dish contained an assortment of boiled sweets. She sampled one as she opened a large book on Grecian history and found the black ribbon marker was really an eye patch. Closing the book she wondered how he could work in chaos. A white feather flagged the location of the inkwell hidden behind several black cravats and an emerald silk waistcoat that had been dropped in disdain. Did he often work in his shirt sleeves?

  The desk drawer told a similar tale. Untidy bills and crumpled letters all addressed to ‘the honourable Earl of Latham’ floated freely among piles of coins that must have been tossed into the drawer. She was about to close the drawer when she noticed a stack of ladies fashion magazines tucked away in the corner almost hidden under a carefully arranged cravat. Why did her husband keep ladies magazines hidden in his desk? The library shelves were equally untidy with half read books shoved in-between souvenirs of life and the odd article of clothing. Clearly the servants did nothing but dust in the library. The view opposite the desk, out the large floor to ceiling window, framed the prettiest part of the garden like a living painting. It was difficult to imagine the owner of such a room being evil. She’d appropriated the ladies magazines and the bowl of boiled sweets and had them sent up to her room. If the man loved her he wouldn’t care if she ate all his sweets. Her rational fears swept from her mind, she decided she’d be quite content to be Lady Latham and relaxed. She certainly couldn’t imagine being bored.

  When the clock chimed five-thirty she was sitting on the bed, her bare feet resting on a silk wrapped hot water bottle. A lemon sweet taunted her empty stomach with thoughts of her dinner tray as she perused the fashion magazines. How much did her husband love her? Would he buy her a new wardrobe? Her Mother’s dictated trousseau was filled with uncomfortably low cut dresses. Eve paused as she heard what sounded like a muffled sneeze. She leaned over and looked at the wall. No it was still closed. She’d just sat back against the pillows when three soft taps gave her warning. Her heart drummed a cadence of suspense as she took a deep calming breath and told herself to expect anything. Hopefully she’d get to eat before he claimed his conjugal rights. “Come!” There was a poignant pause before the secret door slid open and floorboards creaked toward the bed. The half drawn bed curtain rustled. He’d come. “Good evening my Lord.” She resisted the temptation to look and blindly chose another sweet from the Grecian dish sitting beside her and popped it in her mouth. She knew he was standing near the headboard so he could hide and watch her with his right eye. “Would you like a boiled sweet?”

  “No.”

  “I found them in your study. You had a pile of ladies fashion magazines in your desk. I didn’t think you’d mind if I took some.”

  “No.”

  “You’re not as talkative as your brother.”

  “No.”

  “I’m glad; he gave me a headache.” She held the fashion magazine open so he could see it. “What do you think of this dress? Do you think it would suit me?”

  “Yes. In pink. You look lovely in pink.”

  Eve felt her cheeks turn pink with pleasure. The simple whispered words were spoken with feeling. “Thank you. It’s my favourite colour.”

  “I know.”

  Eve felt her pink cheeks darken as she wondered how much he knew. “And what is your favourite colour my Lord?”

  “Pink.”

  The absurd answer made her laugh out loud. “How long have you loved the colour?”

  “Since the first time I saw you.”

  Eve shivered as the compliment somehow breezed over the back of her neck causing pleasurable tingles. “When was that?”

  “Six months ago at my cousin, Lady Harold’s, ball. She screened off a corner so I could watch the dancers unseen. You came and sat down on the chairs in front of the screen with a friend. You were so amusing…” His soft sigh punctuated the words with a poignant sadness. Eve felt her eyes mist over. The man must have spent the last seventeen years watching life whirl by wanting to join in, but fearing rejection.

  “Do you ever go out in public wearing an eye patch?”

  “Yes, but I look like a fool pirate from a Christmas pantomime; people laugh at me. If I take it off they cross themselves as if I’m the devil. When I was twenty my parents took me to London to introduce me into society…” A long painful sigh conjured endless unpleasant images. “…I foolishly insisted on attending a ball without my eye patch. After the first five ladies felt too indisposed to dance with me I kindly refrained from forcing any more to pretend to be too ill to enjoy the evening and left.”

  “A pox on rude ladies; I’d have danced with you. It would have made me the talk of the town. ‘Ooh did you see Miss Eve Venables dancing with the one eyed Lord? She looked like she enjoyed his company, but then you know how she’s always laughing to herself. I hear she spends her winters in the attic bathing in asses’s milk; it gives her that pallid complexion.’ I even danced with Lord Mulgrave once though I admit I accidentally stepped on his toes every few minutes in-between apologies and profuse declarations of admiration for his sharp canine teeth.” The bed curtain rustled with almost inaudible laughter. “I’m afraid he was insulted when I compared him to a favourite pet rat I made up for his benefit and fortunately he lost all interest in my charms.”

  “He does look like a rat.”

  “He is a rat. If I was his mother I’d have to wear a sign around my neck that said, ‘I did not mate with a rodent.’ The curtain rustled again with laughter. “I understand your reticence at calling on ladies in pink my Lord, but you could have written to me anonymously. You could have tormented me by feeding me clues to your identity and then showed up sporting some sort of tell; a pink and white striped cravat would have been appropriate. You could have used some of the fabric left over from the bed hangings. I would have found that highly amusing and terribly romantic.”

  “I used a whole bottle of ink and dozens of quills trying to write you a single blasted letter. The best I could do was, ‘My dear Miss Venables, I find you eminently worthy to be my Countess, but I’m so hideous I’m afraid if I call on you I’ll frighten you; you may faint, hit your head on a table and die of concussion. Will you marry me?’”

  Eve shook with laughter. “You’re right, that wouldn’t have inspired palpitations of excitement my Lord.”

  “I agonised over what to do. I decided I’d make an offer for you and if you married me then I’d introduce myself at home where I’d benefit from…shadows.”

  “And peep holes? You were watching me in the dining room.”

  The eye disappeared as the curtain hissed curses on beautiful brothers in-between soft moans of horror. After several long minutes the curtain stilled and she felt that tingling sensation that told her was watching her again. “My brother is an interfering wretch. I told him not to say anything.”

  “He didn’t…I can feel when you’re watching me. I started noticing it six months ago. At first I thought I was mad, but I’m not am I?”

  “No.”

  “I hope there aren’t any peep holes into my bedchamber. Beware you don’t lose your good eye as I poke at the wall trying to find it.”

 

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