A Lily Among Thorns(29)
Yes, you can. You’ve done plenty of more frightening things. She stood up. “I’m.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I—I was—I was rash. No. I was wrong, and—”
The door opened and Sophy stuck her head in. She frowned. “Serena? Is everything all right?”
She felt her face heating. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason. Your father’s here again, what should I do with him?”
Serena considered her options. She could have him thrown out, but he wouldn’t take it kindly; he might be vindictive, later. She could go out to meet him, but who knew what he would say? In the ordinary course of things her business thrived on gossip, of course, but she couldn’t afford to have people know how close she was to losing the Arms. Let them see blood in the water, and they’d be on her like sharks. “Show him in.”
In daylight, she could see that Lord Blackthorne looked much more prosperous than he ever had when she was growing up. His changes in farming techniques at Ravenscroft must have succeeded beyond his dreams, and she was willing to wager the tenants were seeing none of the benefits.
Well, that would be Cousin Bernard’s problem one day, not hers. She wished she hadn’t let him into her office; she hated having him here, in a place that meant so much to her. His eyes on her pictures and bookcases, her pens and paper and ink stains, made her feel exposed and dirty. Even settling deeper into her wellworn chair and regarding him across the familiar, solid mahogany failed to reassure her. She steepled her fingers. “Well?”
His mouth twisted as he sat. “In that much of a hurry to get rid of me, are you? Very well, I won’t mince words. I told you to get rid of that tradesman or I would take steps. And now instead of going away he is giving you gowns and baking for your customers.” He said this last word as if it pained him. “Reenie, you—”
After all these years, she still hated it when he called her that. “You never cared what I did before. Why this sudden interest?”
His eyes slid away. “You have been an innkeeper for too long if you have to ask that question.” He moved a hand restlessly. “I should have done something when you started this mad scheme.”
“Why didn’t you?” She leaned forward, more curious to hear his response than she wanted to be.
He blinked, startled, as if the answer were so obvious he didn’t understand why she had to ask. “You made your bed.”
She folded her hands tightly together. The stubborn old bastard would never change. She had known when she left Ravenscroft that from that day forward, he wouldn’t lift a finger to help her if she were drowning before his eyes. Not unless she begged him—and with just the right degree of humility. “So I did. And I’ll lie in it with whomever I please.”
He stood up. “Clearly you don’t take me seriously. I think it’s time I told you what happened to your last ill-bred lover.”
He was trying to tower over her, but standing herself wouldn’t make her taller than him. It would only show that she noticed. She tilted her head and smiled, ignoring her sudden unease. “Who, Harry Jenkins? He threw me over, if that’s what you mean. Why, did you bribe him to do it? I hope you’re satisfied with the results.”
His eyes glinted. “Don’t be a fool. The boy probably would have married you if he hadn’t died of a beating on the way to London.”
Her smile didn’t slip, but everything else did. The world was tipping sideways; at any moment the ledgers would start to slide off her desk, she was sure of it. Harry had had white-gold eyelashes, and a scar on his left hipbone that no one would ever again trace with her tongue. “You had a boy murdered just to prevent me from making a mésalliance?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “The idea was merely to beat some sense into him and warn him off, but my agents were regrettably—overenthusiastic.”
“I see.” Harry had been seventeen, a year younger than she. Too young to lie in his own blood on the highway. She’d hated him for abandoning her. Christ, how she wished now that he had! “I’m glad one of us had the presence of mind to preserve the family name from such an association.”
He smiled. “I’m glad you’re being so reasonable, my dear. Now for God’s sake send the tailor packing.”
It took a moment for her sluggish brain to catch his meaning, and then the slow sideways feeling was gone. Everything was very clear and easy. “I’m nothing if not reasonable, Father.” She stood, putting her palms on her desk and leaning forward. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to lunge across it and get her hands round his throat.