Chapter 124

The house-as ever-was exactly as Kendall expected. No one to answer his knocking-for years he hadn't exactly bothered. But perhaps that was a good sign? Rathbone, his coachman, had informed him when he'd finally rolled back up to Violetta's after Kendall had endured a freezing wait in the chill spring air, that he'd brought her back here. Nothing appeared to have changed in the meantime. And if she was here, it meant she had not run off with the runt. A good thing he hadn't run out of Lady Kertouche's after her. Imagine the damned great fool he'd have looked.
He took a breath, set his cane down on the hall table and strode into the study. Pitch dark, except for the crack of light edging the curtains. Still, he prided himself on being able to find his way to the decanter blindfolded.
Did he need this drink? Yes. Then he needed to find his way to her room. Or should he call her in here? Actually, what was he going to say to her-let us start this again? I can't be married to you, but I think I could court you? Yes. That sounded about right.
He threw the snifter down his throat. The door creaked behind him, and he jerked up his head.
"There you are, Your Grace." The pool of light materialized into a middling shape in white with a nightcap on its head. Mrs. Ferret. "Will you be requiring anythin'? Some tea? Or for me to light the lamps?"
"No."
He took a deep breath to steady himself. One thing this disagreeable creature, trying to look like the angel of mercy in a nightcap, could not be blind to, was the fact he and his wife had separate bedrooms. When he'd gone to all this trouble to ensure his wife would not be ruined, was it wise to draw attention to the farce by heading for her room?
Anyway, he needed to steady himself. It was ridiculous how knowing she'd left the dance had opened a hole in his chest as if someone had thrust a giant hand into his rib cage and hauled out his heart. But he was sailing in unchartered territory here. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well, yes. I do require something. Her ladyship. Will you tell her I desire to see her?"
A pause. One he could have written his life story in. Exactly how long did it take to set a candlestick down on a side table? And yes, he knew it needed dusting. Just not at quarter past midnight. Certainly not with Ferret's starchy cuff.
"Her ladyship, Your Grace?"
"You know who she is, don't you?"
"Well, yes. I do."
"Well, then." He crossed the rug and sank down on the battered armchair, the one he'd gone to such trouble to slit the upholstery of many cold and bedeviled moons ago. Moons that surely wouldn't bathe his world in any more of their light now that he'd made his mind up to try properly. "Tell her I need to see her. Now."
"Well ... It's just ... Well ..."
"That's a lot of wells, Mrs. Ferret, when I'm not that particularly thirsty. Now is the word I want you to hear and me to see you act upon. Now. Step to it."
"And I'm not that particular much of a prancin' pony, Your Grace, if you don't mind me sayin', and meanin' no affront. I could fetch her ladyship if I knew where she was. But the fact is I don't."
"You don't?" If he'd had his watch, he'd have raked for it. Instead, he threw the cushion that quite ruined the discomfort of this chair, to the floor. "What do you mean, you don't? Rathbone brought her back here some time ago."
"I'm not disputin' it, or meanin' no disrespect to Rathbone, Your Grace."
"Then ... "
"But then she went away again. In a great hurry."
"She what?"
"Went away again."
He fought not to spring from the armchair. The words were like a cathedral bell of doom clanging in his head. He must be mistaken. Ferret must be mistaken. Where would she go, after all?
"Oh, spare me the joke. Went away again." Smiling had always stretched his face muscles to the limit. As exercises went, he was prepared to indulge in this one though. He was even prepared to reach for the decanter, lift the stopper and pour a drink. "Just go and bring her to me. Or perhaps you want me to do it myself when it's what I'm paying you for?"
"You can pay me all you like. There's things they say about a fool and his money. Unless you're wantin' me to go out on the highways and byways, see what I can rake up there?"
He shot clean to his feet. When was the last time he snapped a glass stem? He couldn't remember, but he wasn't about to do it now. Make a fool of himself when she'd run off? With whom? The runt? He stumbled over the footstool, smothering a curse as he stubbed his toe. Brandy spilled down his waistcoat.
"And her friend?"
How he kept his voice calm, he didn't know. He twisted the glass stem between his fingers.
"Oh, she went with her. They both went."
"I see. You would not happen to know where?"
He was obliged to ask, if only because it would look damn funny if he didn't. For that matter, she may just have fancied taking the air. Funny how when you cared for someone, it made you so damned vulnerable, you always thought the absolute worst.
"Where she didn't want me a'goin'. And she obviously don't want you a'goin' neither, Your Grace, or she'd have said."
Somehow, although his feet felt as if they had turned to stone he reached the mantelpiece.
Jesus Christ. Please tell him Ferret didn't stand fidgeting behind his back. A word of pity was not something he could bear. It would make his flesh crawl from his body. He'd already trod the ground he walked now. That stupid damn habit he had of falling for women too quickly. Women who never fell for him. Women who ran after other men. Other anythings but him.
"Fine."
"If you asks me-"
"I'm not asking you. Except to get out."
"It's just, she seemed upset like, when she come in from the ball. Like .... well,like she didn't want ter leave. But that she never had no choice. Like ... like she couldn't help it. So she took her friend, who actually I think ... well, I think, meanin' no disrespect, but who there was somethin' very fishy about ... I mean I do read them newspapers and things and lately, well ..."
He hauled a breath into his paralyzed lungs. Christ, had Langley said something? What could it be? Phoebe? And if Langley had, who and what did he let go of here?
"I really don't care what the hell you think, or what the hell her friend is, or what the hell she did. I'm not paying you for that."
"Oh, I were meanin' no disrespect, Your Grace."
"Go."
"That's not why I said what I said. In fact, I have been known to be wrong. In some ways it were really interestin' havin' them both-"
"Now."
"-here under the same roof, wonderin' what some folks'd say if they knew.If I were right in me surmise that is, because let's face it I have been wrong before but then these women have to have gone--"
"Now."
"Well, if yer says so, then I shall, Your Grace. I hope yer don't think I am one ter stay where I'm not wanted."
He kept it civil. He didn't want anyone knowing how his heart gnawed his chest. The only pity wasn't her leaving, taking herself somewhere he'd never find her, the pity wasn't even Mrs. Ferret taking the candlestick and closing the door. The pity was the glass smashing the wall and landing in smithereens on the hearth the second darkness blanketed the room like a shroud.