“How much did you tell her?” Damara whispered, thinking of the private things she’d said about Lord Comwright.
“I only told her your parents didn’t want you so they arranged for you to marry an unsavory gentleman.”
“Did you tell her what he did to me?”
“No. I would never tell her something that personal.”
Damara breathed a sigh of relief. Well, at least there was that.
“Celia doesn’t have to know everything,” he continued. “She only needs to know enough to understand the predicament you were in. And that’s why I need to take her to visit your parents. It’s the only way she’ll let go of her anger.”
“I don’t want to see them. Even if they were right here in London, I wouldn’t see them. When I left the estate, I vowed I would never go back, no matter what.”
“I’m not asking you to come with us. Given the situation, it’s best if you stay here. That’s why I thought it would be good for you and Iris to do something together. Then you won’t get lonely while I’m gone.”
After a moment of considering his words, she let out a long sigh. “They won’t care that you and Celia went to see them, Anthony.”
“I’m not doing this for them. I’m doing this so my sister will be nice to you.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Sincerely nice.”
He was determined to do it. And who knew? Maybe he was right. Maybe this would help smooth things over between her and Celia. “All right.”
“Good.” He smiled. “Who are your parents, and where do they live?”
“They are Lord and Lady Ganzel.” From there, she proceeded to tell him where their estate was.
***
Damara sat by the window in the drawing room. Anthony and Celia had left a week ago. It was much too soon for them to return, but she found herself wishing she’d see the familiar carriage come down the street. Even with the trip she took to the menagerie with Iris and Candace two days ago, time seemed to be going at an agonizingly slow pace.
She had no idea it could be such a painful experience to be away from someone she loved. Had it been anyone other than Anthony, she probably wouldn’t even notice the passage of time. She scanned the street one more time. She shook her head. This was silly. By now, he was probably reaching her parents’ estate.
Releasing her breath, she left the window. Time only went slower if she remained there too long. It was best to occupy her time with something else. The question, of course, was simple: what should she do? At her parents’ estate, she was often confined to her bedchamber with books to read. But here, she had the freedom to go to any room. She could even leave the townhouse if she wanted.
One would think she’d welcome the choices. The truth, however, was that she had so many things she could do that it was hard to pick something.
She sat in one of the chairs and placed her hand over her abdomen. If the baby was already born, then she could take care of him or her. Then the time would pass much faster, she bet. It was easier to pass the time when someone else was around.
She bit her lower lip. Iris had told her she could pay her a visit whenever she wanted. Maybe she should take Iris up on the invitation.
“My lady,” the butler called out.
Blinking, she turned her attention to the doorway. “Yes?”
“There’s a gentleman who wishes to see you.”
A gentleman? Besides Iris, she had no idea who might pay her a visit. “Do you mean a lady?”
“No, I meant a gentleman. He is Lord Comwright.”
Her gut tightened in dread. “Lord Comwright?”
How did he find out where she was? She hadn’t seen him in London, and she knew Anthony hadn’t told Celia about him.
“Shall I tell him it’s an inconvenient time?” the butler asked.
Not realizing she’d been clenching her hands together, she relaxed them and rose to her feet. “No. I’ll see him.”
The sooner she got this over with, the better. If he was here, then he intended to talk to her. He’d only come back later. The last thing she wanted to do was hide. She’d spent most of her life holed up in a room. She wasn’t going to go back to that kind of life.
“Keep the doors open,” she told the butler as he turned to leave.
Though the butler seemed curious, he offered a nod then left her alone.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to cower in fear anymore. She was going to start confronting things. Lord Comwright had no power over her. Her parents had no power over her. Celia had no power over her. No one had power over her. If her time with Anthony had taught her anything, it was that she had value, and because of that, she had the right to make her own decisions. And she wasn’t going to let others make her feel inadequate anymore.
Heavy footsteps approached the doorway, and she straightened her shoulders. She slipped her hands behind her back in case he noticed they were trembling. Just because she was nervous, it didn’t mean she had to let him know it.
He came into the room, his broad shoulders and towering frame making him look just as imposing as he had the first time she’d seen him. In some ways, he reminded her more of a monster than a man.
The butler returned to the room and told her, “I’ll bring something to eat and drink.”
She supposed this was the kind of thing he did any time a visitor came, so she didn’t protest.
After he left, Lord Comwright said, “You might want to instruct him to close the doors. You and I have a personal matter to discuss.”
“No.” Noting the way her voice wavered, she cleared her throat. “They’ll stay open.” That was better. Not by much, but it was better all the same. “If you have something you’re afraid others will hear, then you’ll have to watch what you say.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You wouldn’t speak to me like that if your parents were in the room.”
“I wouldn’t allow my parents to be in this room.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, that’s so.”
She took a deep breath, hoping it might calm her racing heart enough so that she could think more clearly. She would get through this. All she had to do was stand her ground. That was it.
The butler returned to the room and set the tray on the table. As he poured tea into the cups, she glanced at Lord Comwright and realized he was looking at her with that same unsettling stare he’d given her while they were at her parents. She involuntarily shivered. Something was wrong with him. Even her parents, for all their faults, weren’t as bad as he was.
With a bow, the butler left.
A long moment of silence passed before Lord Comwright asked, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
“I was waiting to see where you’re going to sit,” she replied.
“You didn’t like being close to me at all, did you?”
She resisted the urge to grimace. “I’m married to Lord Worsley. You have no right to touch me.”
With a snicker, he chose a chair that was close to her. “Given the fact that your parents refused to take you to London, your naivety is understandable. Let me be the first to tell you that marriage doesn’t stop anyone from engaging with others in bed. Marriage only means you have to be discreet.”
She chose a chair across from him and sat down. “I won’t be doing that with you.”
“The way I see it, you owe me.”
“I owe you nothing. We never exchanged vows. You never had a right to be with me that way, and you never will.” Forcing herself to make eye contact with him, she added, “I don’t care what you say about it.”
He chuckled. “My dear, if I really wanted you, I wouldn’t ask your permission.”
“I’m aware of what you’d do.” Had it not been for the bumpy carriage, he most certainly wouldn’t have waited for the inn to try to finish what he’d started. “The doors are open. You won’t do anything.”
“As it turns out, I’m not interested. You’re too,” he glanced up at the cei
ling, “what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers and looked at her. “Bland. Yes, that’s what you are. As a virgin, you were interesting. Not so much anymore. I’m familiar with Lord Worsley and his friends. All boring. All the time.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. She was about to argue that Anthony wasn’t boring, but then, let him think it if it meant he wasn’t interested in having her in his bed.
“Aren’t you going to give me a cup of tea?” Lord Comwright asked, gesturing to the tray.
“And risk accidently spilling some on your lap? No. I won’t have you hitting me like you hit that poor maid.”
“The maid was careless.”
“It was an accident.”
“Do you think I enjoyed correcting her?”
“I hope not. If you did, that would make you a monster.”
He glowered at her.
“Is there a point to your visit?” she finally asked when it became apparent he wasn’t going to come out and say why he was here.
“Yes. I want to know how you did it.”
“It?”
“Yes. It. How did you manage to get away from me? I’ve thought through the events over and over, and I can’t figure it out. I had you with me in the room at the inn. But I fell asleep, and the next thing I know, it’s morning and you’re gone. How did you do it?”
“What good would it do if I tell you how I got away from you?”
“Because nothing I claimed has ever escaped me before. You were supposed to be my wife. But here you are, married to someone else.”
“So this is a matter of pride? I managed to outwit you, and it bothers you?”
“No one outwits me. Ever.”
What a vain thing to worry about. He hadn’t cared about her. He hadn’t even cared about the money. He’d only cared about his bruised ego.
“Since you asked, I’ll tell you,” she decided. “But only on the condition that you won’t come back here. I don’t want to see you again.”
“I don’t want to see you, either, so that’s an easy agreement to make.”
“Fine. While we were still at my parents, I realized I couldn’t spend the rest of my life with you. The night before we left my parents’ estate, I slipped my mother’s laudanum into my valise. When we arrived at the inn, I poured some into your cup. As I hoped, you fell asleep. That’s when I took my money and went to the next town where I found my husband.”
“You didn’t find someone to take you there? Maybe pay your way to the next town?”
“Well, I did pay for a horse.”
“And rode it with someone,” he said.
“No, I rode it by myself.”
“And no one attacked you along the way?”
“No,” she replied.
“Why would you take such a big risk?”
“When someone feels like they have nothing to lose, is there really a risk involved?”
He remained silent for a long moment then asked, “You wanted to get away from me so much that you were willing to risk your life?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible,” he replied. “But you’re sitting in front of me, and you’re alive and well.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she chose not to.
“I suppose in this case, you got lucky,” he said.
“Yes, I did.”
“Then there wasn’t anything I could have done to have changed the outcome. You were lucky, and that’s all there is to it.” He let out a long sigh then rose to his feet. “A gentleman can’t conquer something as stupid as luck.”
She watched as he left the drawing room, but it wasn’t until she heard the front door open and close that she relaxed. She collapsed into the chair and closed her eyes. She’d done it. She’d gotten through the ordeal.
She didn’t have to worry about Lord Comwright anymore. And better yet, after facing him, she knew she could handle whatever happened with Celia because now she knew she could stand her ground against a formidable opponent.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was around midday when the carriage arrived at Lord and Lady Ganzel’s estate. Anthony glanced at his sister who was trying to read a book. The only reason he knew she was trying to read was because she had been on the same page for the past fifteen minutes. Her eyelids kept drooping, and occasionally, she had to jerk herself awake. He couldn’t blame her. These trips to the country were boring. There was little else to do but wait to arrive at one’s destination.
“We’re here,” he told her.
Celia looked up from the book and peered out the small window of the carriage. “How long do you think this will take?”
“How long we’re here is not the point of this trip.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know. The whole point of this trip is for you to make me like Damara by making me feel sorry for her.”
“I’m not asking you to like Damara. I’m asking that you show her the respect due to her because she’s my wife. You don’t have to put on a pretense of being her friend, but you need to treat her well. I don’t want you treating her the same way you treat Iris.”
“I was nice to Iris when she came over to our townhouse for that dinner party.”
“Don’t lie to me, Celia. Warren told me about it, and he said you and Loretta didn’t treat Iris well at all.”
She looked as if she was going to protest, so he gave her the same hard glare that their grandmother had used whenever one of them had tried to get away with misbehaving.
After a moment, she groaned and closed the book. “I don’t like Iris. She’s boring. I don’t know what you were thinking by letting her attend the dinner party.”
“She was betrothed to Warren, and Warren was one of our guests. He had a right to bring her.”
“In that case, I wish you hadn’t invited him. It was bad enough we had to listen to you and all the other gentlemen talk about investments through the entire dinner. Afterwards, you shoved Iris at me and Loretta. You knew very well Loretta and I have nothing in common with her. Did you really expect the whole thing to go well?”
“I expected you to be nice to her because she was a guest in our home.” He straightened in the seat and turned toward her. “You better not treat Damara the same way you treated Iris. I don’t like the idea of forcing you out of the townhouse, but I will if I have to. Do you understand?”
Her jaw dropped. “Why do you assume I was at fault for the entire thing? Iris wasn’t all that nice, either. First of all, she didn’t even want to be with me and Loretta. She had fully intended to spend the rest of the evening with the gentlemen. How do you think that made me feel? Then as if that wasn’t bad enough, she called me and Loretta senseless chits and said we were boring. So if you’re going to be upset with me, then you should be upset with her, too.”
Since he hadn’t been in the drawing room when all of this took place, it was impossible to tell if Iris had really said those things or not. Even so, that evening had nothing to do with Damara. The sooner he dropped the subject, the sooner they could get back to the matter at hand.
The carriage came to a stop, and he redirected his gaze to his sister. “I love you, Celia. You’re my sister, and I will always want what’s best for you. But I love Damara, too, and anything that happens to her is of great concern to me. We’re united in marriage. I know that doesn’t mean anything to most of the people in London, but it means something to me. When you’re not nice to her, you’re not nice to me.”
The footman opened the door, but he waited until Celia indicated she understood before he got out of the carriage. He extended his hand to his sister and helped her down.
“I’ll let Lord and Lady Ganzel know you’re here,” the footman said then headed for the entrance.
Celia crossed her arms as she took in the manor. “If it turns out Damara’s parents are wonderful, then what? Are you going to still insist I be nice to her?”
“They’re not wonderful.”
“S
he could have lied to you.”
“She didn’t.”
She shook her head, not the least bit happy with his answer.
He urged her to go with him to the entrance, and thankfully, she willingly did so. She was probably as certain that Damara had played him for a fool as he was that Damara hadn’t. One way or another, though, the matter would soon be resolved.
Once they were welcomed into the drawing room, the butler notified them that Lord and Lady Ganzel would be with them in a moment. “In the meantime,” the butler continued, “make yourself comfortable. Is there anything you wish to eat or drink?”
“Black tea and crumpets,” Celia replied before Anthony could say anything.
The butler bowed and left.
“Was that really necessary, Celia?” he asked.
She glanced at him. “Are you upset because I told the butler what I wanted?”
“It would have been nice if you had made sure I wanted the same things you did.”
“You made me come all the way out here to see these people. The least you can do is let me eat and drink what I want.” She sat in a chair and scanned the room. “I can see how much Damara suffered while she was here. These things are nicer than what you own, and the butler is willing to provide me with anything I want.” She sighed in mock despair. “I’m sure if I was stuck in this place, I’d run off with a valise full of money, too.”
“Why do you have to be so difficult?”
“I’m not being difficult. You’re the one who married a lady you didn’t know anything about. Anyone in my situation would be questioning the wisdom of your actions.”
He decided not to comment. She’d find out soon enough that wealth was a poor substitute for love.
The butler set the tray of refreshments on the table.
As he left, Celia poured herself a cup of tea and picked up a crumpet. Anthony glanced at the clock. Five minutes had passed since the butler had brought them to this room. Since there was nothing else to do, he sat down and crossed his legs.
The Viscount's Runaway Bride (Marriage by Bargain Book 1) Page 18
