Chapter Twelve
Addy knew she was being a coward.
As mistress of the house it was her duty to be with her guests. She should be ensuring their comfort, providing them with entertainment, and arranging visits to the various sights of London.
Instead she had ordered her breakfast to be served in her chambers and lingered long after she had attired herself in an apricot muslin gown and loosely arranged her curls atop her head.
It had been over a week since her parents had arrived and frankly she was weary of the daily battles with her mother. It was worse than having a spoiled child beneath her roof. There had been an endless stream of complaints of the boredom of Addy’s life and at times loud tantrums when Addy refused to give a lavish ball. Her mother had sworn that she would expire from boredom if she were forced to spend one more day in the townhouse.
And as for Lord Morrow ... well, Addy chose not to think about where her father disappeared to day after day. It was disturbing to contemplate the notion he was enjoying the delights of the local brothels or perhaps tossing away a fortune at the game tables.
At the moment it was easier to ignore his daily absences.
Staring out the window at the garden below, Addy heaved a faint sigh.
Would her parents ever leave?
For that matter, was Humbly ever to return to Surrey?
Would she ever be alone with her husband again?
A smile of pure irony curved her lips.
It was not that long ago she had thought she would give anything to avoid Adam. She would have welcomed Humbly, her parents, and perhaps the devil himself to act as a barrier between her and her husband.
Now she wished that they would all disappear and return her house to the peaceful, predictable establishment it had once been.
She wanted her evenings devoted to Adam, not pacifying her mother and apologizing to poor Mr. Humbly.
A sharp knock on her door forced Addy away from the window and across her chamber. She reluctantly suppressed the desire to ignore the summons, realizing she could not hide forever. Eventually she would have to make her way downstairs to face the predictable complaints and reproaches.
Expecting her mother, Addy was caught off guard as she opened the door to discover a young maid standing in the hall.
“Oh, Mrs. Drake, you must come immediately,” the young servant cried the moment Addy came into view.
Addy’s astonishment swiftly altered to sharp apprehension at the sight of the maid’s harried expression.
Nothing good ever came from such an expression.
“Good heavens, what now?” she demanded, very much longing to slam the door in the girl’s face.
“I ... in the front parlor. Please, you must hurry,” the maid stammered, offering a hasty curtsy before rushing back down the hall.
“Can there be no peace?” Addy muttered, forcing herself to leave the blessed comfort of her room. God alone knew what she would discover, she seethed as she marched down the steps. A menagerie gone mad, a lovesick fool threatening to plunge a dagger into his heart, or a belligerent buck hoping to put a bullet into her father.
The sound of raised voices could be heard long before she reached the salon and, tossing up a silent prayer for strength, she hurried forward and stepped into the room.
For a moment she could not comprehend what had caused such a panic. Her mother was calmly standing beside the chimneypiece, a tiny smile upon her lips. Otherwise, the room appeared empty. Then a series of grunts and gasps sent her gaze flying to the floor where two well-dressed gentlemen were determinedly attempting to choke one another.
She watched in horror as the gentleman beneath the other made a sudden surge to flip himself atop the other. The sudden action sent a delicate pier table wobbling and, rushing forward, Addy pulled it to safety as she glared at her mother.
“What the devil is going on here?”
Reluctantly pulling her attention from the combatants, Lady Morrow favored her with a brilliant smile.
“Ah, good morning, Addy.”
Addy pointed furiously at the grappling men on the floor. “Who are these men?”
“Well, the one currently on the bottom is Mr. Dalmond and the one on top is Lord Powell.”
Her mother’s amusement only added fuel to Addy’s temper.
“Why are they rolling about on my floor like a pair of idiots?”
Lady Morrow allowed herself a smug laugh. “I fear they are fighting over who will be allowed to pose as Hercules in my latest painting.”
Addy threw up her hands in sheer disgust. “I said, no painting.”
“Well you have forbidden me to entertain and your father has abandoned me to pursue his own pleasures,” her mother retorted in defensive tones. “You can scarcely expect me to lay about this house doing nothing all day.”
Addy’s hands clenched in the need to grasp her mother and shake her silly.
“I expect you to keep your cicisbeos from brawling in my front salon.”
The older woman glanced toward the grunting, red-faced gentlemen that appeared more akin to guttersnipes than pinks of the ton.
“I think it is rather charming.”
“Mother.” Addy gritted her teeth.
“What would you have me do?”
“Stop them.”
Lady Morrow arched a superior brow. “My dear, no woman of sense attempts to come between gentlemen intent on doing one another injury.”
“Damn.” Realizing that she would have to take matters into her own hands, Addy stalked to the ridiculous nodcocks and kicked one of the legs that was sticking out. “Enough. Halt this foolishness at once.”
Neither man paid her the least regard as they battled to gain the upper hand.
“Addy, I think perhaps ...”
Her mother’s words were cut off as a dark, ice edged voice sliced through the room.
“What is going on here?”
Addy breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to discover her husband striding rapidly toward her.
“Adam.”
Barely acknowledging her presence Adam reached down to grasp the men by the scruffs of their necks. With tremendous strength he hauled the two of them upward and shockingly knocked their heads together. The men yelped in pain as with a disdainful expression Adam thrust them toward the door.
Both stumbled forward and angrily turned about to confront their assailant. It took only one glance, however, for them to blanch in fear as they discovered Adam regarding them with a frozen dislike.
“Out,” he commanded, pointing toward the door. “Now.”
“Yes, of course,” babbled buffoon number one, backing his way to safety.
“Certainly. Pray forgive me,” echoed buffoon number two, just as swift to make his retreat.
Within moments the house had regained its peace and Adam turned to regard his mother-in-law with a glittering gaze.
“I suppose this is your doing?”
Lady Morrow paled beneath his cold restraint, but as always she refused to take responsibility for her behavior.
“You needn’t use that tone with me, Adam Drake. I have done nothing.”
“You invited those fools here, Mother,” Addy retorted stiffly.
“I could hardly be expected to know that they would become so violent.”
“Something must have provoked them.”
Lady Morrow gave an airy wave of her hand. “Who can say with young, hot blooded gentlemen? They are always so anxious to prove their manhood.”
Addy gave a disgusted shake of her head. “I would say that all they proved is their stupidity.”
“I found it all rather entertaining,” Lady Morrow stubbornly argued, not seeming to comprehend the absurdity of having two grown men rolling about the floor like grubby schoolboys.
“No more guests,” Adam abruptly cut into their squabbling, his voice sending a shiver down Addy’s spine. He was no doubt furious at coming home to such a spectacle. And who could blame him? Any gentleman would be horrified. Especially a gentleman who possessed a spotless reputation.
“But . . .” her mother sputtered in outrage.
“You have heard Adam, Mother,” Addy rushed to head off a dramatic scene.
A petulant pout marred the older woman’s countenance. “I had no notion that our visit to London would be such a bore.”
“Since you claimed that you came to ensure I am well, I do not comprehend how you could be disappointed,” Addy pointed out.
The logic of her words made her mother scramble to regain her footing. She could not very well admit that she had merely used her daughter as a convenient means of settling in London. Not after her touching words of devotion on the evening of her arrival.
“Well, I did not realize that I would be a virtual prisoner in my own daughter’s home,” she at last grumbled.
“I regret that you are opposed to my rules, Lady Morrow,” Adam said without the least hint of regret. “But I will not allow Addy to be distressed by your presence.”
Addy shot her husband a startled glance. He was concerned for her? A sudden glow of warmth filled her.
Far less impressed with Adam’s concern, Lady Morrow gave a loud sniff. Adam stepped forward in an obvious threat.
“You will content yourself with enjoying your daughter’s companionship or you will return to Surrey.”
The older woman widened her eyes. “Really.”
Adam opened his mouth as if to wrench a promise from his uncooperative mother-in-law only to be halted as a footman charged into the room.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the young servant, awkwardly bowing.
Adam turned about to regard the intruder. “Yes?”
“I fear there has been a message from your club.”
“My club?”
“Yes, sir.” The footman swallowed a lump in his throat. “I ... Lord Morrow has made something of a scene and the management is requesting that you come and collect him.”
“Good God,” Adam muttered.
Addy pressed a hand to her heart, desperately wishing that she could close her eyes and disappear.
“Oh, no.”
“I shall leave immediately,” Adam announced in firm tones.
“Very good.” The servant was obviously relieved to have discharged his unpleasant duty and scrambled from the room.
Heaving a faint sigh, Adam turned and lightly brushed his lips over Addy’s troubled brow.
“I hope to be home before dinner,” he murmured.
“Adam . . . I am sorry,” Addy said in broken tones.
He smiled ruefully. “You have nothing to apologize for, my dear. It is your father who shall be in my debt.”
Lightly tapping her nose, Adam marched firmly from the room. Addy’s heart felt as if it were made of lead. How could she have brought this terrible trouble upon his head?
By this evening all of London would be twittering over the ridiculous scene in the salon and her father’s outlandish behavior at the club.
She and Adam would be laughingstocks all over town.
A shudder raced through her as she thought of her husband’s deep dislike for the tiniest hint of scandal.
Gads, he would be humiliated.
“At least I did not make a public spectacle of myself,” said her mother, suddenly breaking the silence, her voice peevish.
Opening her eyes, Addy stabbed Lady Morrow with a killing glare.
“Oh, do be quiet, Mother.”
* * *
Several hours later, Addy paced her studio in growing agitation.
Although her father had long ago returned to the house there had been no sign of Adam. His mysterious disappearance had preyed upon Addy with a gnawing fear.
What if he decided that he could not bear to be in the house?
Would he leave for their country estate without even informing her?
Or would he instead prevail upon a friend to allow him to stay with them?
Or worse, would he perhaps turn to Mrs. Wilton for the comfort she was so ready to offer?
Her imaginings grew progressively darker and more nonsensical as the minutes slowly turned into hours.
By late afternoon, she had herself convinced that even now Adam was closeted with his lawyer discussing the swiftest means of procuring a divorce.
What more final means of ridding himself of her and her madcap family?
It was something of a relief when the door to her studio was tentatively pressed open and the dumpling form of Mr. Humbly entered the room.
“Hiding, my dear?” he asked with a small smile.
Addy heaved a harsh sigh. “I wish that I could. Unfortunately there was no large hole for me to climb into.”
“Is it truly that bad?”
Addy wrapped her arms about her waist, battling back tears of self-pity.
“It is worse than you can imagine. This morning my mother managed to incite two coxcombs into a ridiculous brawl in the front salon and my father created such a scene at Adam’s club that he was thrown out.”
Humbly gave a sympathetic click of his tongue. “Oh dear.”
“Poor Adam,” Addy mourned. “He is probably wishing every Morrow to the netherworld, me included.”
“Never that, Addy.”
“How could he not?” Addy struggled to keep her voice steady. “My parents have been nothing but an embarrassment since they arrived.”
Moving forward Mr. Humbly reached out to lightly pat her upon her arm.
“It is their way. They see nothing wrong with their behavior.”
Addy closed her eyes, attempting to will away the burning sense of injustice. It was true that her parents had not done anything that they would not willingly have done within the confines of their own home. Or even that they had deliberately set out to cause a divorce between their daughter and Adam.
They had simply behaved precisely as they behaved every other day.
“I suppose,” she grudgingly conceded.
“And, my dear, it was not that long ago that you wished your household to be more like your childhood home,” he reminded her gently.
“I must have been mad,” Addy concluded with a shiver.
“No, merely human.”
Uncertain what he was implying, Addy glanced at him in puzzlement.
“What did you say?”
Grasping her hand Humbly moved her to the nearby sofa and tugged her onto a cushion. Once assured she was settled he lowered his own bulk beside her.
“Do you know when I was a child we were rather poor?” he inquired with a rather searching gaze. “In truth, we were in straitened circumstances quite often.”
Addy’s confusion only deepened.
She hadn’t the least notion what his childhood stories had to do with her current troubles.
“I am sorry.”
Humbly gave a swift smile. “Oh, it did not bother me a great deal, although it did mean that I was often mercilessly teased by the local children.”
Addy felt her heart tugged despite her distraction. It was unthinkable that anyone would be unkind to this gentle man.
“Children can often be cruel,” she said softly.
“Yes, I can still recall their taunts when I attempted to join them on their rides with my poor, swaybacked pony. Hamlet was far too fat and lazy to keep up with the other horses and it only took them a few moments to be off without me.”
Addy frowned in sympathy. “I suppose it must have made you very sad.”
“Actually it made me angry and I found myself beginning to hate poor Hamlet. I blamed him for my unhappiness and begged my father for a mount that would allow me to race with the others.”
Addy found herself regarding the Vicar with a faint sense of suspicion. Did he have a specific point he was trying to make? It would be just like him to disguise a mild lecture in a seemingly reminiscent story of his childhood pony.
“Did he buy you one?” she asked slowly.
“No.” Humbly gave a sigh. “My father wisely told me that when you have been given an animal to love you do not toss it aside like rubbish when you have tired of it.”
“He must have been a good man.”
“I did not think so at the time,” the Vicar confessed with a sheepish expression. “I kept badgering him for a new horse until the local Earl overheard my complaints and sent a beautiful black stallion to me. I was delighted.”
Addy lifted her brows at the obviously happy ending to his story.
“Ah, so you were allowed to race with the other children.”
Surprisingly Humbly gave a firm shake of his head. “No.”
“Why ever not?”
“Thunder proved to be a very high-spirited animal with a nasty habit of throwing me to the ground whenever I climbed onto his back and biting anyone foolish enough to stray near.”
Much to her amazement Addy discovered herself biting back a chuckle at his woeful expression. It was very difficult to remain blue-deviled in the man’s company.
“Oh no.”
“Within a week my father had returned the monster to the Earl.”
Addy reached out to lightly touch his hand.
“So you went back to poor Hamlet?”
The sherry eyes grew distant as he recalled his tumultuous days of childhood.
“Unfortunately I could not. My father had already given Hamlet to a family who desperately needed a horse to help with their farm work.”
Addy smiled with sympathy. “So you had no horse at all.”
Shifting on the cushion Mr. Humbly faced her fully. “No. I did, however, learn a valuable lesson.”
Addy suddenly realized that Humbly did indeed have a purpose to his story. One that was no doubt meant to ease her turmoil.
“And what was that?”
“That it is quite natural to take what you possess for granted. Even at times to become bored with your blessings. Only the wise person takes the time to appreciate what he has been given.”
Addy smiled wryly.
He was right, of course.
He was always right.
She had taken what she possessed with Adam for granted. Rather than appreciating his quiet dignity and the manner whereby he had always offered her a sense of security, she had only dwelt upon her sense of injustice.
Not that Adam should have written that absurd list of the behavior expected of his wife or made her to feel as if she could not be trusted to make the simplest decision for herself, a tiny voice reminded her.
Still, he had not been the ogre that Addy had built in her mind. And if nothing else he had offered her a measure of protection that had been sadly lacking in her parents’ household.
And lately he had been offering far more.
A taste of Paradise.
If only her parents hadn’t ruined it all.
She grimaced as she met Humbly’s gaze. “Such as a peaceful household?” she said dryly.
“Precisely.”
Addy heaved a regretful sigh. “I did not think I would ever say this, but I do wish I could have back those uncomplicated days. At the moment my nerves can not bear the strain.”
“You shall soon have even better days,” Humbly promised with a smile.
Addy could only envy his confidence. She was not nearly so certain of her future.
“Perhaps.”
“And you will have a greater appreciation of what you possess.”
“Absolutely.”
The sound of a distant gong brought an end to their conversation. With the eagerness of a gentleman who genuinely treasured the culinary arts, Humbly surged to his feet.
“Ah, dinner,” he announced with relish, regarding her still-seated form with faint surprise. “Are you not coming?”
Addy would love nothing more than to remain in her studio and avoid her parents for the remainder of the evening. Unfortunately her duties as a hostess disallowed such temptation.
“I suppose I have no choice. I can not leave you to face my parents alone,” she conceded, reluctantly pushing herself to her feet.
Humbly drew her arm through his own with a consoling smile. “They will soon be gone.”
She gave a resigned shake of her head. Her husband had been driven from his own home. Her stomach felt as if it had been tied in a hundred knots. And her staff was beginning to regard her with pitying glances.
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Not soon enough for me.”