“You needn’t use that tone with me, Adam Drake. I have done nothing.”
“You invited those fools here, Mother,” Addy retorted stiffly.
“I could hardly be expected to know that they would become so violent.”
“Something must have provoked them.”
Lady Morrow gave an airy wave of her hand. “Who can say with young, hot blooded gentlemen? They are always so anxious to prove their manhood.”
Addy gave a disgusted shake of her head. “I would say that all they proved is their stupidity.”
“I found it all rather entertaining,” Lady Morrow stubbornly argued, not seeming to comprehend the absurdity of having two grown men rolling about the floor like grubby schoolboys.
“No more guests,” Adam abruptly cut into their squabbling, his voice sending a shiver down Addy’s spine. He was no doubt furious at coming home to such a spectacle. And who could blame him? Any gentleman would be horrified. Especially a gentleman who possessed a spotless reputation.
“But . . .” her mother sputtered in outrage.
“You have heard Adam, Mother,” Addy rushed to head off a dramatic scene.
A petulant pout marred the older woman’s countenance. “I had no notion that our visit to London would be such a bore.”
“Since you claimed that you came to ensure I am well, I do not comprehend how you could be disappointed,” Addy pointed out.
The logic of her words made her mother scramble to regain her footing. She could not very well admit that she had merely used her daughter as a convenient means of settling in London. Not after her touching words of devotion on the evening of her arrival.
“Well, I did not realize that I would be a virtual prisoner in my own daughter’s home,” she at last grumbled.
“I regret that you are opposed to my rules, Lady Morrow,” Adam said without the least hint of regret. “But I will not allow Addy to be distressed by your presence.”
Addy shot her husband a startled glance. He was concerned for her? A sudden glow of warmth filled her.
Far less impressed with Adam’s concern, Lady Morrow gave a loud sniff. Adam stepped forward in an obvious threat.
“You will content yourself with enjoying your daughter’s companionship or you will return to Surrey.”
The older woman widened her eyes. “Really.”
Adam opened his mouth as if to wrench a promise from his uncooperative mother-in-law only to be halted as a footman charged into the room.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the young servant, awkwardly bowing.
Adam turned about to regard the intruder. “Yes?”
“I fear there has been a message from your club.”
“My club?”
“Yes, sir.” The footman swallowed a lump in his throat. “I ... Lord Morrow has made something of a scene and the management is requesting that you come and collect him.”
“Good God,” Adam muttered.
Addy pressed a hand to her heart, desperately wishing that she could close her eyes and disappear.
“Oh, no.”
“I shall leave immediately,” Adam announced in firm tones.
“Very good.” The servant was obviously relieved to have discharged his unpleasant duty and scrambled from the room.
Heaving a faint sigh, Adam turned and lightly brushed his lips over Addy’s troubled brow.
“I hope to be home before dinner,” he murmured.
“Adam . . . I am sorry,” Addy said in broken tones.
He smiled ruefully. “You have nothing to apologize for, my dear. It is your father who shall be in my debt.”
Lightly tapping her nose, Adam marched firmly from the room. Addy’s heart felt as if it were made of lead. How could she have brought this terrible trouble upon his head?
By this evening all of London would be twittering over the ridiculous scene in the salon and her father’s outlandish behavior at the club.
She and Adam would be laughingstocks all over town.
A shudder raced through her as she thought of her husband’s deep dislike for the tiniest hint of scandal.
Gads, he would be humiliated.
“At least I did not make a public spectacle of myself,” said her mother, suddenly breaking the silence, her voice peevish.
Opening her eyes, Addy stabbed Lady Morrow with a killing glare.
“Oh, do be quiet, Mother.”
* * *
Several hours later, Addy paced her studio in growing agitation.
Although her father had long ago returned to the house there had been no sign of Adam. His mysterious disappearance had preyed upon Addy with a gnawing fear.
What if he decided that he could not bear to be in the house?
Would he leave for their country estate without even informing her?
Or would he instead prevail upon a friend to allow him to stay with them?
Or worse, would he perhaps turn to Mrs. Wilton for the comfort she was so ready to offer?
Her imaginings grew progressively darker and more nonsensical as the minutes slowly turned into hours.
By late afternoon, she had herself convinced that even now Adam was closeted with his lawyer discussing the swiftest means of procuring a divorce.
What more final means of ridding himself of her and her madcap family?
It was something of a relief when the door to her studio was tentatively pressed open and the dumpling form of Mr. Humbly entered the room.
“Hiding, my dear?” he asked with a small smile.
Addy heaved a harsh sigh. “I wish that I could. Unfortunately there was no large hole for me to climb into.”
“Is it truly that bad?”
Addy wrapped her arms about her waist, battling back tears of self-pity.
“It is worse than you can imagine. This morning my mother managed to incite two coxcombs into a ridiculous brawl in the front salon and my father created such a scene at Adam’s club that he was thrown out.”
Humbly gave a sympathetic click of his tongue. “Oh dear.”
“Poor Adam,” Addy mourned. “He is probably wishing every Morrow to the netherworld, me included.”
“Never that, Addy.”
“How could he not?” Addy struggled to keep her voice steady. “My parents have been nothing but an embarrassment since they arrived.”
Moving forward Mr. Humbly reached out to lightly pat her upon her arm.
“It is their way. They see nothing wrong with their behavior.”
Addy closed her eyes, attempting to will away the burning sense of injustice. It was true that her parents had not done anything that they would not willingly have done within the confines of their own home. Or even that they had deliberately set out to cause a divorce between their daughter and Adam.
They had simply behaved precisely as they behaved every other day.
“I suppose,” she grudgingly conceded.
“And, my dear, it was not that long ago that you wished your household to be more like your childhood home,” he reminded her gently.
“I must have been mad,” Addy concluded with a shiver.
“No, merely human.”
Uncertain what he was implying, Addy glanced at him in puzzlement.
“What did you say?”
Grasping her hand Humbly moved her to the nearby sofa and tugged her onto a cushion. Once assured she was settled he lowered his own bulk beside her.
“Do you know when I was a child we were rather poor?” he inquired with a rather searching gaze. “In truth, we were in straitened circumstances quite often.”
Addy’s confusion only deepened.
She hadn’t the least notion what his childhood stories had to do with her current troubles.
“I am sorry.”
Humbly gave a swift smile. “Oh, it did not bother me a great deal, although it did mean that I was often mercilessly teased by the local children.”
Addy felt her heart tugged despite her distraction. It was unthinkable that an
yone would be unkind to this gentle man.
“Children can often be cruel,” she said softly.
“Yes, I can still recall their taunts when I attempted to join them on their rides with my poor, swaybacked pony. Hamlet was far too fat and lazy to keep up with the other horses and it only took them a few moments to be off without me.”
Addy frowned in sympathy. “I suppose it must have made you very sad.”
“Actually it made me angry and I found myself beginning to hate poor Hamlet. I blamed him for my unhappiness and begged my father for a mount that would allow me to race with the others.”
Addy found herself regarding the Vicar with a faint sense of suspicion. Did he have a specific point he was trying to make? It would be just like him to disguise a mild lecture in a seemingly reminiscent story of his childhood pony.
“Did he buy you one?” she asked slowly.
“No.” Humbly gave a sigh. “My father wisely told me that when you have been given an animal to love you do not toss it aside like rubbish when you have tired of it.”
“He must have been a good man.”
“I did not think so at the time,” the Vicar confessed with a sheepish expression. “I kept badgering him for a new horse until the local Earl overheard my complaints and sent a beautiful black stallion to me. I was delighted.”
Addy lifted her brows at the obviously happy ending to his story.
“Ah, so you were allowed to race with the other children.”
Surprisingly Humbly gave a firm shake of his head. “No.”
“Why ever not?”
“Thunder proved to be a very high-spirited animal with a nasty habit of throwing me to the ground whenever I climbed onto his back and biting anyone foolish enough to stray near.”
Much to her amazement Addy discovered herself biting back a chuckle at his woeful expression. It was very difficult to remain blue-deviled in the man’s company.
“Oh no.”
“Within a week my father had returned the monster to the Earl.”
Addy reached out to lightly touch his hand.
“So you went back to poor Hamlet?”
The sherry eyes grew distant as he recalled his tumultuous days of childhood.
“Unfortunately I could not. My father had already given Hamlet to a family who desperately needed a horse to help with their farm work.”
Addy smiled with sympathy. “So you had no horse at all.”
Shifting on the cushion Mr. Humbly faced her fully. “No. I did, however, learn a valuable lesson.”
Addy suddenly realized that Humbly did indeed have a purpose to his story. One that was no doubt meant to ease her turmoil.
“And what was that?”
“That it is quite natural to take what you possess for granted. Even at times to become bored with your blessings. Only the wise person takes the time to appreciate what he has been given.”
Addy smiled wryly.
He was right, of course.
He was always right.
She had taken what she possessed with Adam for granted. Rather than appreciating his quiet dignity and the manner whereby he had always offered her a sense of security, she had only dwelt upon her sense of injustice.
Not that Adam should have written that absurd list of the behavior expected of his wife or made her to feel as if she could not be trusted to make the simplest decision for herself, a tiny voice reminded her.
Still, he had not been the ogre that Addy had built in her mind. And if nothing else he had offered her a measure of protection that had been sadly lacking in her parents’ household.
And lately he had been offering far more.
A taste of Paradise.
If only her parents hadn’t ruined it all.
She grimaced as she met Humbly’s gaze. “Such as a peaceful household?” she said dryly.
“Precisely.”
Addy heaved a regretful sigh. “I did not think I would ever say this, but I do wish I could have back those uncomplicated days. At the moment my nerves can not bear the strain.”
“You shall soon have even better days,” Humbly promised with a smile.
Addy could only envy his confidence. She was not nearly so certain of her future.
“Perhaps.”
“And you will have a greater appreciation of what you possess.”
“Absolutely.”
The sound of a distant gong brought an end to their conversation. With the eagerness of a gentleman who genuinely treasured the culinary arts, Humbly surged to his feet.
“Ah, dinner,” he announced with relish, regarding her still-seated form with faint surprise. “Are you not coming?”
Addy would love nothing more than to remain in her studio and avoid her parents for the remainder of the evening. Unfortunately her duties as a hostess disallowed such temptation.
“I suppose I have no choice. I can not leave you to face my parents alone,” she conceded, reluctantly pushing herself to her feet.
Humbly drew her arm through his own with a consoling smile. “They will soon be gone.”
She gave a resigned shake of her head. Her husband had been driven from his own home. Her stomach felt as if it had been tied in a hundred knots. And her staff was beginning to regard her with pitying glances.
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Not soon enough for me.”
Chapter Thirteen
The townhouse was blessedly silent as Adam quietly made his way to his chambers.
A far cry from the chaos he had left earlier in the day, he thought with a heavy sigh. He had hated to leave Addy on her own to deal with the volatile Lady Morrow, but he had little choice, with Lord Morrow causing his own share of bedlam at his club.
It had taken nearly an hour to sober his father-in-law enough to lead him from the club and place him in the carriage. The ridiculous fool had locked himself in the cloakroom and refused to come out, claiming that the management had insulted him by refusing him more brandy.
Adam had barely shoved the sodden Lord Morrow into his carriage when he had been assailed by Lord Hoffman, who had claimed that the War Department had erupted into a pitched battle over the latest dispatches. Adam had seriously debated telling Hoffman to go to the devil. He had quite enough on his plate with his troublesome in-laws. And of course, poor Addy was nearly exhausted from worry.
He was clearly needed at home.
Unfortunately he could not completely turn his back on his duties to the government.
He had sworn a promise to do all that was possible for the soldiers overseas when he had become a war consultant, a promise that carried with it the burden of being responsible for the life and death of hundreds. He could not simply shrug aside that responsibility just because it was not convenient.
Finally, he sent Morrow home in his carriage and allowed Lord Hoffman to hurry him to the office. Once there, it had taken several hours of painstaking diplomacy to soothe the ruffled feathers and to seek a compromise that would satisfy the various parties.
All in all it had been a wretched day, he decided, entering his chamber and waving his valet out of the room. He wanted nothing more than to crawl beneath the covers of his bed and forget all about Addy’s daft parents and the feuding politicians.
Pouring himself a glass of brandy, he slowly undressed and pulled on a heavy brocade robe. With an effort he forced his stiff muscles to relax. He would never sleep with his nerves coiled in tight knots.
He was just polishing off the last of his brandy when a soft knock on the connecting door made him turn in surprise.
“Come in,” he called, waiting as his wife slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. Once again she was attired in that maddeningly provocative robe, but his attention was captured by the anxious expression that marred her delicate features. He instinctively moved to stand before her. “Addy, is something wrong?”
She gave a jerky shake of her head. “No, I merely wished to speak with you.”
Adam breathed a f
aint sigh of relief. After the day he had endured he was uncertain if he could bear another disaster.
“You should not be up so late.” He reached out to stroke her cheek with a teasing smile. “You will begin to have shadows beneath your eyes from your late evenings.”
Her expression remained set in lines of strain as she searched his countenance.
“Where have you been?”
With a flash of insight Adam realized that Addy had been concerned by his long absence. He silently cursed the befuddled Lord Morrow. He had specifically requested the man to tell Addy he had been called to the War Department. Clearly such a simple task was beyond the fool.
“I fear that I was caught at my club by Lord Hoffman who insisted that I was desperately needed by Liverpool. An argument had erupted over the movement of our flanking troops.”
There was a faint pause before he heard her soft sigh.
“Oh.”
“I am sorry if you were concerned.”
“I thought . . .”
Her voice broke off and his hand moved to cup her chin and press it upward. There was clearly something troubling her.
“What?” he demanded in tones that warned he would not tolerate being fobbed off. “What did you think, Addy?”
She gave a small shiver before she struggled to summon a weak smile.
“That you had perhaps fled London.”
Adam could not hide his jolt of shock at her absurd words. “Why would I flee London? Has something occurred?”
“You know what has occurred,” she retorted, her brows furrowed. “Those ridiculous men in the salon and then my father causing a scene at your club.”
“It has been a difficult day,” he agreed wryly.
“Yes.”
He studied the wounded shadows in her eyes, his heart clenching with anger at her impervious, irresponsible parents.
“Far more difficult for you than for me,” he said in gentle tones.
His words seemed to catch her off guard and she gave a shake of her head.
“How can you say that? It is your reputation that will be in shreds.”
Adam had deliberately forbidden any thoughts of the obvious consequences of his in-laws’ outrageous behavior. There was little use brooding on what could not be changed. Besides, he was far more concerned with his wife’s growing distress.
Love and Marriage Page 15
