Chapter 18
Dory’s announcement shouldn’t have surprised Tom. They had married out of her need and nothing more. From the beginning, she had been honest about what she wanted and it had nothing to do with love. Losing his temper was not a luxury he often allowed. Watching her hips sway as she left the room he clutched the arms of his chair until his fingers screamed for release.
Footsteps receded as she climbed the steps.
He overturned the chessboard, sending pieces flying in every direction. Pain shot through his side and up his chest. His head pounded and there was no more outlet for his fury. His body couldn’t take it.
Crowly rushed into the room. “Sir?”
No longer able to hold himself upright, he bit his cheek against his sorrow. “Help me back to bed.”
With Crowly’s strong arm holding him up, he staggered up the stairs. He bathed in the agony of his wounds, both literal and those inflicted by falling in love with Dorothea Flammel. That was his biggest mistake. She would never let herself love him or anyone. Her parents had ruined her for love and none of his foolish hopes and dreams would change her.
He sat on the edge of his bed waiting for the pain to ease enough to lie down. “You can go, Crowly. I can manage from here.”
“Are you certain, sir?”
“Yes. I need to start doing things for myself.”
Once he was alone, he put his hands on his knees and let the weight of her abandonment relax. Only the discomfort in his side forced him onto the mattress where he stared at the ceiling. He could still convince her to stay. Tell her he was too sick to be left alone. There could be more moments like the one with her playing the harp in his bed.
“You are a fool, Wheel.” He closed his eyes and prayed for oblivion.
* * * *
Thomas’s arm ached and his back hurt, but there was determination mixed with his rage for the first time in a long time. Three parries in a row had kept Daniel from scoring. Sweat ran down his back and dripped from his chin into his mask. Every muscle hurt far beyond the exertion of one match.
Steel clashed against steel one last time as Daniel held up a hand to end the sparring. “Well done.”
The raised platform at Jaffers Club had garnered a small crowd of onlookers. As the match concluded, the audience filed away.
“Why did you stop?” It was the first decent exercise Tom had in months and he longed to keep going despite the protests from his body.
Daniel removed his face protection and handed it and his foil to a servant standing nearby. Taking the offered towel, he sat on the top step. “I am tired.”
“Liar.” Tom collapsed next to him. “But you’re right, it is enough for one day.”
Nodding, Daniel wiped his brow. “It’s the first time you’ve dueled since being shot. You do not want to cripple yourself for a week. Besides, I need to talk to you.”
Dread replaced the small joy he’d taken from the exertion. Talk of Dory was inevitable, but Tom wanted none of it. “Must we speak of her? I was having a good day.”
“She is your wife, Tom, not some distant issue you can ignore.”
The chest protector suffocated him and he tugged at the buckles until it pulled free. His claustrophobia didn’t abate. “Can we at least get out of here?”
With a nod, Daniel stood. As soon as they were back in appropriate clothes for a morning on the London streets, they walked to Daniel’s waiting carriage. “She is very sad, Tom.”
Only a slight twinge of discomfort accompanied Tom’s climb into the carriage. “I did not ask her to leave. She insisted on going. I cannot imagine why she should be unhappy.”
“Can you not?” Dan knocked on the roof to alert the driver they were ready to leave.
The driver snapped the reins and they rolled through London’s rainy street at a snail’s pace with carts and traffic halting their progress.
“As far as I know, this is the life she wants. I offered her a life with me and she chose one on her own flitting from friend to friend. I assume she is back at Marlton?”
“Dory arrived three weeks ago from Scotland, even more depressed than when she left us.”
The familiar pang of jealousy stirred in his gut. Hating the emotion did not make him less susceptible. “Is your brother-in-law visiting Marlton as well?”
Cocking his head, Dan raised an eyebrow. “Anthony has been staying with us for over a month. Why do you ask?”
He would have to trust that Dory’s character was intact. She would never betray him so soon. Though as things stood, one day she would take a lover. He couldn’t expect her to live like a nun for the rest of her life, but that didn’t keep the pain from crippling him. “Never mind. What were you saying about depression?”
“I am tempted to toss the pianoforte from the house.”
“Why?” Tom longed to hear her play. He missed it almost as much as he missed her.
Daniel pointed at him. “Your wife plays all day but where the sound of her play used to ring with joy now there is only despair. Sophia and the staff are in tears all day long. I have begged her to play something more cheerful and I believe she tries. For the first few moments, a light riff will come across, and then it turns back to some piteous dirge.”
Nothing was more important to Dory than her music. There had to be a reason for it to suffer, but he was sure it had nothing to do with him. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it. You may toss her and the instrument from the house for all I care.”
“Does she write to you? Do you even know where your wife is from day to day?” Daniel crossed his arms and glared.
Assuming the same pose, Tom said, “My wife did me the courtesy of informing me when she left Marlton to visit Kerburghe, but she has not written since.”
“Did you respond to her letter?”
“I saw no point as there was nothing of a personal nature in her letter and it was only informative. What should I have written back, have a nice time?” It had been almost a month since his rage had gotten the best of him. Becoming used to her abandonment was his only option. His health had improved in her absence, but progress was slow and had required a lot of bed rest. The pain had made it hard to think of anything else. Once he was up and busy putting his businesses in order, he eased her out of his mind moment by moment. Daniel brought her back as if it had been yesterday she’d said she would leave him.
“The two of you are impossible. How can two people so much in love be so determined to stay apart?” He pounded on the side of the carriage.
Traffic eased and they rolled past Hyde Park. When they first married and things started so well, he’d dreamed they would walk together in the park daily or at least a few times a week. They would talk of music and silly things happening in the ton. None of that had ever happened nor would it ever. “You are mistaken, Dan. There has never been a marriage with less to recommend it than mine. Dorothea most certainly does not love me.”
“I disagree about her feelings. However, you love her, don’t you?”
“My feelings are irrelevant. It takes two to make a marriage.”
They neared Tom’s townhouse and were not the first to arrive. Daniel leaned forward. “That is Markus’s carriage.”
“I have not seen him since the funeral. I did not think he was out and about.” When Tom imagined what Markus was going through, he was thankful that Dory had only left him. At least she lived. Was that hope? He brushed the thought aside as the carriage pulled behind the other.
Daniel shook his head and stepped to the street. “No one has seen him. I have written dozens of unanswered letters and even went to his house expecting to find him, but found only the staff and the baby. Markus had gone weeks before and not returned. A maid and the housekeeper were caring for the child. I understand your mother-in-law is there now.”
“I had no idea.” He should have known one of his best friends was suffering.
The front door flew open before they’d reached the landing. Crowly scowled. “Lord Markus Flammel is here to see you, sir.”
Gut in a twist, Tom climbed the last steps and handed his hat and gloves to Crowly. “Where is he?”
“I tried to put him in the parlor, but he is in your study. I did not know what to do.” If Crowly’s frustration was an example of Markus’s demeanor, it was going to be a tense visit with Dory’s brother.
“Dan, if you want to run now, I will not blame you.”
Slapping his back, Daniel said, “I will decide after we see him.”
Markus lay stretched out on the dark leather sofa with a glass of brandy perched in his hand. Asleep, but skillfully not spilling his drink. He opened his eyes then narrowed them at Tom. “You. You. I.” He took a long breath. “I have a complaint.”
“A bit early for a drink, Markus.” Tom rounded his desk and sat. Perhaps if he acted as if nothing was wrong, Markus would be civil.
Looking at the brandy like a lost lover, Markus sighed. He swung his legs over the side and yanked himself to sitting. There was a slow wobble while he steadied his torso, which kept swaying for a while. “I was thirsty and you were out. I helped myself.”
“As it is Monday, Dan and I were at Jaffers.” He pushed the stack of contracts to the side of his desk. The time for dealing with the mountain of work left while incapacitated would have to wait.
Markus lost focus, staring at the ceiling. Cravat hanging loose and morning coat wrinkled beyond repair, he looked more like a vagabond than a viscount. “Monday? Is it really? Well, no matter. I am angry and I will have satisfaction.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, not another duel.” Daniel fell into a chair near the desk.
Groaning, Tom echoed Daniel’s sentiment. “I am in no shape to meet you at dawn. I have only just recovered from my last bout of stupidity with your father. If you want to shoot me, you will just have to do it now and without all the fanfare.”
Confusion twisted Markus’s face and puckered his lips as he stood and wobbled forward. Collapsing into the other chair, he pointed at Tom. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I want to know why my sister writes me sad letters. Why do those letters come from Kerburghe and the Marlton country estate? I had just come to understand you had married her and now it seems you have put her aside?”
It took every ounce of Tom’s will not to strangle Markus. “I have not put her aside. Your sister left me. Your father shot me in a duel and as soon as it was clear I would live, Dorothea left this house and has not returned. As for sad letters, I am sure you are mistaken. This is what she wanted. We do not suit and should go on with our lives.”
Markus’s eyes were slits, and he reeked of alcohol. “My father shot you?”
“Really, Markus, you must spend a moment’s time outside your own misery.” Daniel thumped his fist on the arm of the chair.
Hair pushed up on one side and in a tangle at the top, Markus tried to run his fingers through the mess, but he only succeeded in further mussing himself. “You said you do not suit.” It was like the meaning was just filtering back through his mind as if a fuse was lit. “So you are putting her aside.”
“I am complying with the lady’s wishes.”
Head in his hands, Markus swayed in his seat. “I am tired. Maybe we can discuss this at a later time.”
Tom rang for Crowly, who appeared in the doorway an instant later. “Please, show the viscount to a guest room, Crowly.”
“Yes, sir.”
At the door, Markus turned back. “I shall have satisfaction on this matter, Tom.”
“As you wish.” Yet another person to worry over. Would it never end? When the thumping on the steps silenced, Tom turned to Daniel. “Did you know his drinking had taken such a turn?”
“No. I would have thought there would be some healing by now. He loved Emma, but this has gone too far.”
There were not enough hours in the day to deal with the mounting issues in Tom’s life. “Go home, Dan. I will take care of Markus when he wakes up.”
“Are you sure?” Standing, Daniel tugged his jacket into place.
“I am well enough to deal with a foggy-headed friend. We will be fine.” Tom stood and walked Daniel to the front door.
Maybe he should ask for help or run to Marlton and try to win his wife back, but he was tired of being in love alone. He’d told her how he felt, shown her in a dozen ways, including getting shot, and still she left him at the first opportunity. No. It was enough. He would live his life and she hers. That was what she wanted.
* * * *
Finally, peace descended on the house as Tom tucked Markus into his carriage with instructions to the driver to take him home without stopping at a pub or anywhere else. Settling into his study, he pulled out the contracts for the Westgrove property and a new ship he’d been considering buying. His duel and disastrous marriage had strained a few business relationships, but not enough to keep him from expanding.
He wrote a note to his man of business and one to his solicitor about arranging inspections of the ship. The farm he had mixed feelings about. He’d hoped to move with Dory out to his country home for the winter. Then he could oversee the spring planting once the new land transferred. The music room in Middlesex was not as fine as the one in London, but that could be fixed. Without Dory, the prospect of wintering in the country was unappealing. He put the documents aside. The plans needed to go through. More was at stake than his heart, but he would think about it later.
A firm knock sounded on the door, followed by Crowly pushing through. “Sir, a letter has arrived by special messenger.”
Tom took the envelope from the silver tray and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. These types of letters rarely brought good news. “Thank you.”
Michael’s strong but messy hand scrawled the direction across the front.
Tom,
Elinor has tossed me from my own damn castle. I am sorry to bother you, but I am at my wit’s end. I have gone to Faber Manor on the west side of my country estate. Mother is at the main house and I loathe speaking to her about my troubles. Please come. I could use a friend at this time.
Michael.
Would there ever be peace for five minutes? Tom finished writing his business letters and rang for Crowly.
“Sir?”
“I must leave for Somerset immediately. Have Porter pack a small trunk. Post these letters for me. I should not be gone long.”
Taking the envelopes, Crowly gave a curt bow. “Yes, sir.”
Michael and Elinor had been through so much to get together; surely their marriage was unflappable. It was impossible they couldn’t make a marriage work. What could have happened?
In less than an hour, he’d washed and dressed and was on the road west out of London. The dry roads made for easy travel. He stopped at dark, rose early, and finished the journey.
Faber Manor was a sturdy little house southwest of Bath at the edge of Rollins family lands. With gray stone and small windows the place had a quaintness.
A boy appeared from behind the house to manage the carriage and luggage. “There is no butler, sir. Please let yourself in the house.”
Tom pushed open the creaking door. “Mike? Hello?”
The wood banister gleamed. He walked into a parlor on the left. The curtains were open, letting in light and showing off the exquisite mantle and dark wainscoting. It did not strike him as an unused cottage.
Quick footfalls drew closer.
Tom turned to greet Michael, but it was Dory who appeared in the doorway. He was dreaming. “What are you doing here?”
She looked down the hall and toward the front door then stared at him. Even frowning, her raspberry lips called for kisses. “I arrived five minutes ago. Where is Elinor?”
Why did she have to be so beautiful? Her gold ringlets called out for his fingers. Keeping his head was imperative. “How should I know? Is Braighton here?” The idea he had interrupted a tryst between his wife and Anthony Braighton was enough to triple his heartbeat. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from letting his temper fly.
Breathing hard, she placed her hand on her chest. “No. Why would he be? He is at Marlton. Elinor wrote and said she would be here. She said she needed me.”
Relief and panic flooded his chest. He pushed past her and rushed to the front door as his carriage rolled down the lane.
Dory stood beside him in the drive. “What is going on?”
Knowing at some point he would have to be in her presence again did nothing to steady his breath or desire. “I received a message from Michael stating that Elinor had tossed him from the house and he was here needing my help.”
“Oh no. I received a similar note from Elinor.” She crumbled and sat on the front steps. “They’ve tricked us.”
He sat. Her lavender scent enticed him to take a deep breath. It was another thing he had missed about his wife but wished he could erase from his heart. “It would seem so.”
“Now what do we do?”
“Unless you would care to walk fifteen miles to the nearest village, we have few alternatives.”
A long sigh pushed from her succulent lips and she lowered her head to her knees. “I doubt very much that I am capable of walking that far. You may go. I assume they at least left us a cook or maid. I will be fine here until they send someone to retrieve me.”
He could make the walk and perhaps hire a horse. The village he’d passed through on the way was without many resources. There might not be a means of transportation and no hotel in which to stay. It might be days before he arrived at Michael’s house and that would mean leaving Dory unprotected. “I cannot leave you here alone.”