Wesley was practically seething with anger when he got to the library. Lola had defied him before, he was used to that. However, to threaten to strut out in public when she knew there were death threats against her was past insane. He couldn't believe that she would carry on as normal, and with such an attitude. It was either that she wanted to die or she was done with the life the two of them were living.
“Earl Rippon,” the head of the library stuck out his hand, shaking it. Wesley managed to maintain his composure, forcing a smile on his face.
“Sir,” he said. “It's wonderful to see you again.”
Sir Johnathan was old, probably older than Wesley's father had been. Of Irish descent, the man had been head of the British Library system as long as he could remember. His father used to bring him along to present checks, pretending to care about the state of the children, while abusing his own.
“We were expecting your wife,” Sir Johnathan said. “She's presented the last few checks.”
“Countess Rippon is...otherwise engaged,” he said and Sir Johnathan's face took on a different tone.
“Yes, I saw her...show last night,” he said. “How exhausting that must be, to have full noble duties and make sure that the shows are spectacular.”
This was a topic that Wesley did not want to discuss at all. However, Sir Johnathan looked around, and then lowered his voice.
“Could I have a word with you?” Sir Johnathan asked. “In private, sir?”
“Is now really the best time?” Wesley asked. “I have a check, I want to hand it over to you, and that is all.”
“It is about your wife,” Sir Johnathan said and Wesley felt like he might explode. “Last night, perhaps you are already aware...I saw her arm in arm with a man...”
Wesley felt like he already knew the answer, but he felt compelled to ask.
“Please describe the man,” Wesley said, and tried not to not punch him in the jaw when he described Morgan Ouiseau's every last detail. “Perhaps one of her colleagues?”
“He was sitting in the audience, sir,” Sir Johnathan said. “I don't want to cause any problems, but if that was my wife...I would want to know.”
“Lola is an actress,” Wesley said, through clenched teeth. “The things that she has to do at work are...”
“Sir, I understand the theater community,” Sir Johnathan said. “And I am a great advocate of character and stories. But I don't believe...”
“You know what?” Wesley reached into his jacket, pulling out the check. “You can present it yourself.”
“Sir, I didn't mean any offense,” Sir Johnathan said. “I was simply...”
“I know you didn't mean any harm,” Wesley said. “I'm well aware of the antics of my wife. So you can humiliate me more or you can take the check and leave.”
“What do you think your father would think?” Sir Johnathan said and Wesley growled.
“Do not speak of my father,” Wesley said, his eyes nearly popping out of my head. “Even if I keep a harem and allow my wife to work the streets, I would be better than my father.”
“Do not disrespect your father's memory,” Sir Johnathan said and Wesley shook his head.
“Do not respect it,” he said, and turned on his heel, heading back to the waiting carriage. He was shaking, and it was only the rigid noble training that made him control his behavior. He had been right then, about Lola and Morgan. What was going on?
He didn't care about his title most of the time. He had only re-assumed it to help her. If she was going to throw it aside, then maybe neither of them needed to claim it anymore.
Maybe this was a sign that their lives should part for good.
Just as the carriage rolled away, he thought that he saw a recognizable face in the crowd. He turned his head around, cramming his face out the window of the carriage to see if he was right.
Sure enough, he saw Tannoy standing there, watching him.
“Stop the carriage!” Wesley screamed at his driver. “Stop the carriage!”
The driver lashed the horses, and they came to a halt, but Wesley's feet were on the ground before the carriage had even stopped. He could barely process thoughts as he tore around the corner, elbowing people out of the way in the busy street.
“Tannoy?” he spun around, baffled. He had seen him watching, he was sure of it. Yet he was nowhere to be found. “Tannoy?”
The passerby looked confused, especially given how well he was dressed, but said nothing.
A thought occurred to him as he looked around the streets. Everyone standing there, including Tannoy if he was hiding, knew that he was out of the house. Everyone knew that Lola, where ever she was, could be alone, without the protection of her husband.
He was an idiot.
He flew back into the carriage, shouting to the confused driver.
“Go, go, go!”
“Go where, sir?” The driver asked, trying to get his bearings.
“Back home,” Wesley demanded.
“Home?” the driver asked. “But Miss Lola said that we were also to stop at that the...”
“I don't care what Lola wanted, you will take me home and I will face her wrath if....never mind, just go!”
“Yes, sir,” the driver said, although he didn't particularly want to face Lola's wrath. He spurred the horses forward and Wesley gripped onto the side of the seat.
The journey to Bamber Manor normally took half an hour, but even though it shorter with the rush, it felt like over a day to Wesley. He clenched his fists together, willing everyone to get out of the way.
When Bamber Manor finally came into sight, he wanted to leap from the carriage. He practically tumbled out when the carriage came up to the front door, bursting through it.
“Where's Lola?” he demanded of the first person he saw. It was James, Harold's young son, who turned around from where he had been playing in the hallway.
“Sir?” he asked, in confusion.
“My wife, Lola, where is she?” Wesley demanded. The little boy looked fearful. He had seen Wesley around quite a bit, but he had never had him scream like this. “Where is she?”
“I don't know,” James said. “I don't know...”
“What do you mean, you don't know? How long have you been playing here? Did you see her walk out the door?”
“Yes---” James squeaked.
“And?”
“Wesley, what are you doing?” Harold came around the corner. “Why are you screaming at my child?”
“Where is Lola?”
“She isn't here,” Harold said.
“Thanks mate, where is she?”
“She got a note to head to the theater early,” Harold said.
“Alone?”
Harold looked confused.
“Who else would she go with?”
“Is she sure the note came from the theater? Did you look at it?”
“No,” Harold said “But we sent her in the carriage and...”
“For goodness sake,” Wesley snapped at him. “I just saw Tannoy on the street, and now...”
“Wesley, calm down,” Harold put his hand up. “James, go find your mother, alright?”
“Have I done something wrong?” James asked, but Harold shook his head.
“It's alright,” he said. “Just go on.”
Once the child was gone, Harold turned to him.
“Wesley, if you are concerned, that's fine, but don't speak of such matters in front of my child.”
Wesley snorted.
“That's the child who is going to inherit,” Wesley said. “And let me tell you about being a child of a lord...”
“I don't need your education,” Harold said “But feel free to waste more time wondering where your wife is otherwise.”
Wesley growled.
“Are you sure she's at the theater?” he asked again. “Where's Morgan?”
“He's in the library last time I saw,” Harold said “Did you see something suspicious out there?”
“I just told you I saw Tannoy on the street.”
“The worst case scenario is that he tried to hurt you and clearly didn't,” Harold said.
“Or he knows that Lola is alone, that I'm not with her,” Wesley replied.
“Harold!” came a sudden cry from the living room. Both of them heard the urgency in Aaron's voice. They both bolted, fearing the worst. Harold was prepared to catch him, to clean up a puddle of blood, or to give him last rights. For all he knew, Gilles had broken into the house and slit his throat.
All of their lives were at chaos, and Harold hated not knowing where the next threat would come from. All he could put stock in was the fact that it would be from all sides.