Chapter Nineteen
Sofia didn't think she'd ever get used to the size of this house – it took fully one quarter of an hour to walk from the front door to her apartment. She walked into her sitting room expecting to hear Polly unpacking her clothes but the room was silent. That was odd – she would have to find what she wanted for herself.
Everything was laid out neatly in the dressing room and it took only a few moments to collect the items and put them into a large fabric bag. Then she added her slippers, nightgown and robe, plus clean undergarments and stockings. There was no necessity to take anything else as she hoped she would only be staying next door for one night. She had every faith in the duke to put matters right between her and Perry.
A slight sound startled her as she stepped into her bedchamber. She dropped the bag as her husband rolled off her bed, gripped the post to steady himself and then moved with remarkable speed to block her exit.
'Not so fast, madam, I need to speak to you.'
Her heart was hammering, she didn't dare stoop down and pick up her dropped clothes. This was a man she did not recognise – a man capable of anything – not the person she had married a few weeks ago.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed her nails into her palms and the sharp pain steadied her a little. 'You are drunk, my lord, and I shall not speak to you until you are sober.'
'I want to know how many men you were intimate with before you married me? Do I not meet your high expectations in the bedroom? Is that why you no longer wish to be my wife?'
Whatever she had been expecting him to say, this was not it. Not only was he drunk, he had taken leave of his senses. Anger replaced her fear and she stepped in close to him. She gagged at the pungent smell.
'You are despicable. I am glad I am not carrying your child. There is now no reason for me to remain here and I shall return to Spain. I never wish to see you or speak to you again. You are not the man I thought you to be.'
He was gently swaying and she shoved him hard in the chest, he staggered backwards to sprawl upon the bed once more. She snatched up her bag and ran away. She was halfway across the gallery when her path was blocked by the duke.
'I take it I am too late. I beg you, ignore whatever he said, he will regret it when his head is clear.'
'In vino veritas – I think that means that the truth is always spoken by someone who is drunk. I can never forgive him for what he has said. With your permission, your grace, I will leave here in the morning and return to live with my mama in Spain. The marriage is over.'
'You will do no such thing, Sofia. I guarantee that you would regret it if you did. Love is not lost so easily. I gave you my word I would put things right, will you allow me to do so?'
'I don't care what you do, he is nothing to me now. A man who calls his wife impure does not deserve to be forgiven. I asked for your permission out of courtesy. I shall leave whether you want me to or not.'
'Please, Sofia, will you agree to wait a week before you go? If by then you are still of the same mind then I shall escort you myself.'
She nodded. 'Very well, I will remain seven days. I shall not change my mind because I cannot unhear the words that were spoken. I have had my doubts about this union and they have just been confirmed by his behaviour. I wonder if it will be possible to have it put aside as it was conducted in the Popish religion and in a foreign tongue?'
'I hope it will not come to that, my dear, but again I vow that I shall find out for you if you are determined to sever the connection to my family.'
She curtsied and he bowed, then he stepped aside allowing her to pass. Word had been sent to Lord Aubrey and his wife that she was to be their uninvited guest for the next week. Their home had an imposing front door but it was quicker to go in through the French windows on the terrace.
Lady Mary – she must no longer think of them as family, but refer to them formally – attempted to embrace her but she stepped aside. Again, she curtsied. 'I apologise for intruding, my lady, I shall not be here above a week as I intend to return to Spain.'
'I see. I hope you will change your mind as we already consider you a dearly loved member of the family and you would be sorely missed. Please, come and sit down, I have had coffee and freshly baked pastries brought in for us.'
The last thing she wanted was to eat or drink anything but it would be the height of bad manners to refuse when Lady Mary was being so kind.
'Thank you, no cake, but I shall take coffee.'
They sat in silence and the coffee restored her equilibrium somewhat. Had her reaction been so extreme because she had been so eagerly awaiting his return? Perhaps she would have a pastry after all and another cup of coffee.
Half an hour went by before it occurred to her that Lord Aubrey had not put in an appearance. 'Where is your husband, my lady?'
'Aubrey has gone to find Perry. By the time he and Beau have finished with him he will regret his appalling behaviour.'
'What do they intend to do?'
'First they will sober him up and that will not be a pleasant experience. Then if they take a horsewhip to him it would be no more than he deserves.'
She surged to her feet sending crockery and cake crumbs in all directions. She picked up her skirts, turned, and raced back the way she had come. If either of them dared to lay a finger on her husband it would be they that regretted it.
She had no objection to them putting his head in a bucket of water, but that was as much as she would allow. It was none of their business anyway. She and her disgraceful husband were quite capable of sorting out their own problems.
Sofia skidded to a halt in front of a startled footman. 'Where is my husband?'
'His grace and Lord Aubrey took him out for a bit of fresh air, my lady.'
*
Beau was pumping the handle of the well in the centre of the stable yard whilst Aubrey held Perry's head under the stream of icy-cold water. Brutal, but effective.
'I think he has had enough. Any more and we might drown him.'
'Perry, are you sober yet?' Beau had not finished with his brother. Once he was in his right mind he would understand the error of his ways.
'Devil take it, I'm half-drowned. Let me stand up, for God's sake.'
'Excellent, we are going for a brisk walk. I think the boathouse would be ideal, Aubrey.'
He stepped in and gripped his brother's arm hard enough to make him flinch. Perry looked from one to the other and he saw resignation and shame in Perry's face.
'I shall come without argument. I am a disgrace to my name and my regiment. If I had a pistol I would put an end to it right now.'
Before Beau could respond to this statement they were interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Perry's wife. She ran towards him and punched him hard. He staggered back clutching his injured nose and attempting to stem the copious flow of blood.
Aubrey had immediately released his hold on his brother before he too could be punched.
'How dare you both interfere in our business? Perry is my husband first and your brother second. I shall take care of things now. You are dismissed.'
Perry was looking as bemused as he was and Beau was relieved to see a flicker of amusement cross his face. Beau had never been told he was dismissed and hoped he would never be so again.
He nodded and tried to look formidable, but doubted he succeeded when holding a blood-soaked handkerchief to the end of his nose. 'You would do well to remember, madam, that you are a guest under my roof. An hour ago you were asking for my assistance...'
'No, sir, I was not. It was you that offered it.' She turned to Perry. 'You had better get into something dry, my lord, before you catch a morbid sore throat.'
Perry reached out to take her hand but she moved away. Things were not resolved, but at least he could leave the two of them to take things forward from this point. He waited until she was level with him before speaking again.
'Exactly what did you think we intended to do to our brother?'
'Lady Mary said something about a horsewhip.'
'Did you really think we are such brutes?' She looked from one to the other of them and he saw doubt creeping in. 'We intended to explain in short and pithy sentences exactly what we thought of his behaviour. Believe me, my dear, that would be more than enough to put him straight.'
She looked towards the distant boathouse. 'Then why were you taking him there?'
'It would not do for us to be overheard by the staff when we are having a family debate.'
Perry made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. 'I shall come with you, I think it will be educational.'
'You will do no such thing, Lord Peregrine, I'm quite capable of telling you exactly what I think of your reprehensible behaviour. In fact, I rather think there is no necessity for anyone to say anything further on the subject as you are well aware of what you said and did.' Sofia curtsied to each of them as if they were strangers.
'I beg your pardon for punching you, your grace, but I believe that your nose will recover far sooner than my fist.'
Only then did he notice she was nursing her hand. She vanished as speedily as she had arrived, leaving the three of them alone.
He turned to his brother. 'Is she right, Perry? Do we have to explain it to you?'
'Sofia is usually right. I am a cretin. I am too ashamed to tell you what caused this abhorrent behaviour. However, once I am dry, I would dearly like to talk to both of you. Despite what has just happened, I fear I have destroyed my marriage.'
*
Perry was quite prepared to remain in his drenched garments to talk to his brothers. He deserved to suffer for behaving so badly.
'Get changed and then come to my study.'
His valet stripped him off and handed him a towel. He was finding it difficult to coordinate, he was no longer bosky but not quite sober either. He would probably feel better if he ate something, but his stomach was turning somersaults and the thought of food nauseated him.
He cared not what he was wearing, he was eager speak to his brothers and prayed that they could come up with a solution to this catastrophe of his own making.
When he told them what he had thought, what he had overheard, if he had not been sitting he thought one or other of them would have pulled his cork.
'I have no excuse for my stupidity. I came back early determined to put things right between us. Finding her absent made me anxious and then you know the rest. I had not thought myself a jealous man, but that is the only rational explanation. Unless my accident has addled my wits.'
There was a polite tap on the door and three footmen staggered in with laden trays. They hastily put them down on the leather-topped desk and vanished leaving them to serve themselves.
'Coffee only for me, thank you,' he said to Aubrey who had immediately walked over to the food.
'When did you last eat, Perry?'
'I can't remember. I doubt I could keep anything down.'
'You will try.' Beau opened the window and tipped out the contents of a flower pot, slammed it shut and then handed him the receptacle. 'There, problem solved.'
After the first few bites his guts settled and he devoured everything put in front of him with relish. He washed it down with several cups of coffee and when he was done he felt almost human again. He wiped his mouth on his napkin and sat back. His brothers had not eaten, they were watching him and both looked less severe than they had earlier.
'How do I mend my fences with Sofia? First, I will tell you both what I have arranged for us.' He quickly told them about the house in Derbyshire he was having built and why he thought they would both be happier when life was less restricted by etiquette and rules.
'I think that an excellent notion, and it will go halfway to restoring your wife's good opinion of you. You would hardly have made these arrangements if you had been intending for her to leave and return to Spain.'
'I must warn you, Aubrey, that if Sofia does decide to go then I shall follow. I know it is the woman's place to live where her man wishes, but I will not lose her.'
Beau nodded. 'I would prefer you both to be living at Silchester, but as long as you are happy and together I shall be content.'
'Have either of you any suggestion as to how I should begin the process of winning her back?'
'Sofia has moved next door and I suggest that you do not approach her today. Allow her time to calm down. The fact that she rushed to your defence when she thought we were going to horsewhip you is a good sign.'
Perry smiled. 'I apologise for your nose, Beau, I...' He surged to his feet. 'Sofia damaged her hand. I must go at once and see she has not broken any bones.'
'Sit down, my wife will take care of her. Do you wish me to send word next door and see how she does?'
He subsided into the chair. 'Yes, please do that.' He closed his eyes and tried to marshal his thoughts into some sort of order. Until his accident he would have considered himself a sensible, calm, rational man and now he was behaving like a simpleton. If this is what love did to a fellow, he wished he was like his older brother, a bachelor with no one to worry about but himself and his duties as the duke.
When he opened his eyes again his brothers had gone, as had the trays. The fire had been banked up, the shutters and curtains closed – all this done whilst he had slept. He glanced at the overmantel clock and was shocked to see the time. He had been asleep for hours.
For the first time in several days his head was clear and he was thinking like a soldier. He had lost a battle but not the war and he was determined to court his wife and, however long it took, he would somehow persuade her to forgive him and take him back.
He emerged from the study to find the house quiet, Beau had obviously dined with Aubrey and Mary next door. He was persona non grata so would not intrude. Although he had eaten enough for three men before he fell asleep he was hungry again.
He saw a footman lurking at the other end of the passageway and snapped his fingers. 'Bring me something to eat. I shall have it here. Coffee also.'
When he had eaten he was wide awake and had no intention of retiring. There was a hunter's moon which would make it perfectly safe to ride. He was already dressed in suitable garments for such an enterprise, all he needed was his greatcoat, gloves and muffler. There was a heavy frost tonight, but so far this winter there had been no snow.
Zorro, as always, appeared at his side when he reached the stables. The horses were all bedded down for the night, the grooms eating their supper in the servants' hall and he had no intention of calling anyone back to do something he was perfectly capable of doing himself. Billy was as eager as him to get out in the crisp, cold night air.
He was not foolish enough to gallop, or jump hedges and ditches as he would do in daylight, but he had a most enjoyable excursion nevertheless. He heard the village clock strike midnight as he crunched back into the yard. He had walked the last mile so his horse was cool and could be put away immediately.
As he strolled back to the house he was aware there was no light glimmering through the closed shutter. God's teeth! Surely he had not been locked out of his own abode? He tried the side door and indeed it was locked. He marched around the house and was unsurprised to find everywhere firmly bolted for the night. He had not thought to inform a member of staff that he was going out and when Beau had returned from next door and he must have thought him asleep in his apartment.
Perhaps his brother was still awake, he often remained downstairs into the small hours reading whatever geographical journal had arrived that week. He made his way to Aubrey's wing but again it was evident no one was up.
This left him two options. He could either hammer on the door of the main part of the house in the hope that someone would hear him or spend the night in the stables. No – there was the third option. He was an agile man and he thought he might be able to climb up to the first floor and gain entry that way.
At least the moon was bright, the sky cloudless, and even with his limited vision he thought he could achieve his objective without breaking his neck. He spent a while examining the possibilities and decided to attempt to ascend to the unoccupied part of the house – the wing that his brother had intended to convert into accommodation for him and Sofia.
The shutters were not closed on the upper floors and he thought he would be able to prise up the window using the stiletto he always had secreted in his boot. He discarded his greatcoat, gloves, muffler and jacket as it would be much easier to climb in his shirtsleeves.
There were enough protuberances for him to grasp with his fingers, but he found it difficult to lodge his toes on anything secure enough to prevent himself from falling. Slowly he moved upwards clinging like a limpet to whatever he could find. With a sigh of relief, he reached the windowsill and heaved himself up.
He dislodged several pieces of masonry in his struggle to hold his balance and they clattered noisily to the terrace below. There was nobody sleeping in this part of the building, not even servants had their quarters in the attics, so he ignored it and slipped the blade of his knife between the window and the frame.
After several attempts the catch moved back, he got his fingers under the bottom of the window and carefully pushed it up. He swung his leg into the room and his breath hissed through his teeth. He had not realised he had been holding it.
Despite the bright moonlight outside the interior of the room was so dark he doubted he could make his way across it without falling over something. He tried to visualise the layout, but nothing would be the same as the furniture would have been either removed or put in the centre and covered with cloths.
The room was colder than outside, had a damp, unused smell, and he shivered. He had a nasty feeling that having been drenched in icy water earlier, and now exposed to the elements, he was in danger of becoming unwell. The sooner he got out of this place and back into his own apartment where the fire would be lit and he could get warm again, the better.