Miss Winthorpe's Elopement (Belston & Friends #1)(60)
‘I pushed her away from me, and she overturned the candles. I pulled her clear of the fire, but the flames spread quickly. Fortunately, the walls on this side of the house are old and stone. The damage was limited to this room, and the rooms above and below. And smoke damage to my bedroom, of course. Divine justice.’
‘Was anyone hurt?’
Adam seemed to flinch at the thought. ‘Will has a burn on the back of his arm, gained from fighting the fire. A beam fell upon him.’
She looked up at the roof, and the badly patched holes, and piles of new lumber on the floor below. ‘And this is why you needed the money?’
‘Not a thing has gone right since the night of the fire. It was as if I was cursed. I invested. Badly, as it turns out. In tobacco. The ship sank, and my hopes with it. The profits should have been enough to repair the house and account for the failure of this year’s crop.’ He reached out and took her hand. ‘And then I met you. Before that, I had no idea how to go on.’
She looked at him, and at the wreckage before them. ‘And you swear, this is over.’
He smiled sadly. ‘Nothing brings you to the knowledge that you are behaving like a fool quite so fast as burning your house half to the ground, and seeing your brother nursing injuries that were a result of your stupidity in chasing after another man’s wife. And I saw the look on Tim’s face that night. Yet he insists on forgiving me, which is the worst punishment of all.’
She tugged at his sleeve. ‘Close the doors on this mess, then. Let us go downstairs and find supper.’
Chapter Eighteen
He took her to the formal dining room, which was set for two. And she watched as the servants went through their paces, attempting to impress their new mistress with speed of service and excellence of presentation.
She wondered what Jem thought of it all, and if they had managed to force some work out of him, or had he found a warm corner somewhere to sleep. Perhaps she could find a post for him, something that involved short hours and long naps.
And while her husband might think of them as being totally alone in Wales, she found the room crowded with servants. There were footmen behind each chair and a regular influx of courses arriving and departing. She watched Adam, who was staring at the contents of his plate, but doing very little with it. He must think himself alone, for he seemed to have forgotten her entirely. Instead, he cast furtive glances in the direction of the damaged wing, as though he could sense it through the walls.
By the look in his eyes, he had been wrong. He might think that things were over, and managed to keep them at bay when he was in London and could keep busy enough to ignore them. But his good spirits had begun to evaporate the moment he had opened the door to the ballroom. She wondered how many rooms of the house held bad memories for him. She imagined Clarissa, as Tim had described her, attempting to trap Adam in an indiscretion. The music gallery had been an excellent choice, if she wished discovery.
But had it been the first attempt? Or had she taken every opportunity she could to embarrass her husband and create talk? Penny might be forced to see her own husband starting at ghosts of memory in every room of their home.
Why must the woman have been so beautiful and so audacious? So without shame as to be unforgettable? How was she expected to compete? When they were together, in the inn, Penny had felt like the only woman in the world to him. And in scant hours, he had forgotten her.
The idea angered her, and she prepared to count, when it occurred to her that, in fighting this battle, a measured and thoughtful response would not win the day. If she thought at all, she would never have the nerve to act.
She looked back at Adam, who was staring into his dessert in confusion, as though wondering where the earlier courses had got to. She slid her chair closer to his, so that they might not be overheard. ‘Adam. Darling. I was wondering if you had given thought as to where we would sleep?’
He started, and looked up at her. ‘I am sorry. I had forgotten. You must be tired after such a long journey. You will take the mistress’s suite, of course. I will find somewhere.’ He shrugged. ‘One of the guest rooms. I doubt I will sleep well this first night.’ He gave her a tight, pained smile. ‘I had hoped to be in better spirits. There are uneasy memories. But do not let me disturb you.’
She pulled her chair closer still, until their knees were touching under the table. ‘You are disturbing me very much, husband. For I was rather under the impression that you would be disturbing me tonight. And I find the prospect of a lack of disturbance…most disturbing.’
He started again, as if waking from a bad dream. ‘You still wish…’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘To reclaim my garter. If you still have it, of course. The way you are acting, I am beginning to suspect that you have forgotten where it is.’
He looked at her, with the long slow smile he used to charm her into so many things, and said, ‘I have it on my person, at this moment.’
She took a large sip of wine, to steady her nerves. ‘Really? I do not believe you. Show it to me.’
The roguish light was back in his eyes again. ‘You must find it for yourself, if you are so curious to see it.’
She toyed with her glass and gauged the locations of the servants, and how much they were likely to see. It was some small consolation that, should any word reach the outside about the indiscretions of the Duke of Bellston, from now on they would involve the duchess as well.