The Bad Luck Bride (The Brides of St. Ives #1)(40)

“She’s not your bloody fiancée.”

Northrup breathed in sharply through his nose. “You should address your betters in a more civilized manner, Southwell. If it’s possible,” Northrup said, and Henderson had to use all his self-control not to launch himself at the pompous ass.

“For goodness sake, will you two stop?” Alice said, though she directed her question to Northrup, which felt like a minor victory to Henderson.

“Alice, what is the meaning of this?” Henderson asked, choosing to ignore the foppish fool standing in front of Alice. “This man left you standing in the church. He has no right to touch you, to even be in the same room as you. Is your father aware of this?”

“Lord Hubbard brought me here, fully knowing my intent,” Northrup said with annoying smugness.

Henderson felt the blood drain away from his head, and for a terrible moment, he thought he might sway on his feet. “Is this true, Alice?” he asked, knowing his voice sounded odd and raspy.

“Yes, Mr. Southwell, it is.” Of course, calling him Mr. Southwell was only proper, but hearing her say it, her tone so damned cold, made Henderson’s chest ache.

“But surely you have not forgiven what he did.” Alice stood, and Henderson watched in disbelief as she slowly brought her hand up to rest on Lord Northrup’s arm. He swallowed heavily. “I don’t believe it. You cannot be serious. You cannot be so foolish as to forgive this man—”

“There were circumstances,” Alice said.

“Circumstances?” he shouted. “Circumstances?”

“My dear, I fail to understand why you are even engaging in conversation with his man. In fact, what is he even doing in your home?” Northrup looked at him as if he were a mangy dog that had somehow found its way into Tregrennar.

“What is all this ruckus?” Lord Hubbard came through the door looking more than annoyed.

“This man insulted me,” Lord Northrup said. “And is upsetting your daughter.”

Richard looked at Henderson, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing here, Mr. Southwell? I understood you had no plans to come to St. Ives.” His tone was biting, all aristocrat, and even though Henderson had known Richard Hubbard for years, he had never heard that tone directed at him.

For the first time in his life, Henderson felt like an outsider in the one of the few places in England where he had always felt welcome.

“Mama insisted that he stay here while he was in St. Ives, Papa. Lord Northrup was unaware of this and has been quite unkind,” Alice said, giving Northrup a pointed look. Her defense of him somehow made things worse. He felt as if he were exactly what Northrup had called him—a charity case. To think he had walked to Tregrennar thinking he would ask Lord Hubbard for his daughter’s hand. My God, what a bloody idiot he was.

“I see. Well. Perhaps now that I am home, his presence is no longer needed.”

“Here here,” Northrup said, and Henderson didn’t miss the glare of anger Alice gave her former fiancé.

“I shall depart in the morning, sir,” Henderson said stiffly.

“Oh, Papa, is that really necessary?” Alice asked. “It’s Henderson.”

“It’s for the best,” Henderson said, looking briefly from Lord Northrup to Alice. “Please do tell your mother thank you for the hospitality. I will leave at first light.”



*



Alice watched in disbelief as Henderson left the room, fighting the urge to follow him. She whirled on Lord Northrup, angrier than she could ever recall being.

“You were insufferable,” she said, and was made angrier still when her father chastised her with a click of his tongue. “Papa, Mr. Southwell is a particular friend of this family and should not be made, ever, to feel unwelcome. He was upset that Lord Northrup was here because he cares for my feelings. Perhaps more than any of you do.” Alice could feel hot tears threaten. “You owe him an apology, my lord. And if you cannot bring yourself to do so, I believe any suggestion of reconciliation shall not be considered.”

To her surprise, Lord Northrup bowed and said, “Of course, you are correct. I’m afraid I allowed my temper to get the best of me. I say, I didn’t like the proprietary way he was looking at you and I fear I let my dander up.”

Alice was slightly mollified, but still angry.

“Alice,” her father said, using his lesson-teaching tone. “You must realize that most families would not welcome Mr. Southwell into their homes as we have. If it wasn’t for Joseph, no one in this house would associate with someone of his class.”

Despite the truth of her father’s words, Alice was shocked that her father had said them.

“Your family was generous, indeed, to do so,” Northrup said.

“It wasn’t charity.” She looked to her father. “Was it?”

Richard shifted uncomfortably. “Northrup, would you mind allowing me to speak to my daughter in private?”

“Of course. Good evening, sir.” He turned to Alice, his brown eyes soft and beseeching. “Please do consider what we discussed, Alice. I will do anything in my power to make you forgive me.”

Alice nodded. “I will think about it, my lord, but I cannot make you any promises.”

He smiled brilliantly, then gave her father a look that Alice couldn’t interpret. “That is all I can ask for. Good evening.”