Chapter Forty-Three
DESPITE SWEARING SHE WOULDN’T step foot in Lady Anna’s room again, the next morning Brooke took the lady’s breakfast upstairs herself. She told herself it was just to see how much her teas had helped yesterday, but she really wanted to witness firsthand the supposed change in the woman’s attitude. Dominic might think his mother had seen the light, but Brooke highly doubted it.
But the lady was sleeping and had apparently only just nodded off, according to the maid at her bedside, so Brooke didn’t wake her and had the servant return the tray to the kitchen to keep it warm. Sleep was more important than food for Anna’s recovery, as long as she was eating when she was awake.
She didn’t know where Dominic was in the big house and would just as soon not find out. She decided to go shopping, which she hoped would take her mind off her having only two days left until her wedding. Not that they needed to wait until the banns were read for the third time when they had the order and the marriage license from the Prince; she merely assumed they would be waiting until the last minute of the grace period that Dominic had been given.
She fetched her pelisse, then went to find the butler to request the Wolfe coach. “I’ve a bit of shopping to do, but mainly I’d like to tour the city to see some of the places I read about yesterday.”
“Be sure to visit Vauxhall Gardens, m’lady. It’s especially colorful at this time of the year, though it warrants a full-day excursion, with so many different entertainments to view.”
She smiled. “Just a peek then for today.”
“Certainly. I’m sure his lordship will want to take you for a longer visit to the gardens some other day.”
Would he? She’d been in three of his houses now and he hadn’t given her a tour of one of them. And he knew this was her first visit to London. He should have made the offer to show her more of the city he was familiar with.
The Wolfes’ town driver wasn’t happy about the tour she wanted, to go by his sour expression, or maybe that was his usual demeanor. The two accompanying footmen were reserved, and neither looked her in the eye. She didn’t know these town servants and might not get a chance to, if they weren’t going to stay in London.
She didn’t know what Dominic planned to do when, or if, his mother recovered, either. He had mentioned that he usually spent at least half of the year in town with Anna, but would he still want to do that when he had a wife? These were things she ought to be able to discuss with him, but when did they ever talk about mundane matters?
She hadn’t seen much of London yesterday on the way to the apothecary, not with Dominic in the hack with her and the seat being so narrow their shoulders touched. She hadn’t thought of anything but him during that brief ride.
For her first trip to this old town she ought to be more excited. She would have been—if she had come with her mother for the promised Season. Such an odd thought, considering her feelings for Harriet, or the lack of them. Was Alfreda right? Had Brooke repressed those feelings for so long they had really gone, or were they just buried too deep to affect her anymore? She didn’t exactly like crying and had done far too much of it when she was younger.
The driver wouldn’t go any farther south, but he took her close enough to the London docks to see the Thames and all the ships sitting out in the river. There were so many of them, which made her think again that maybe she should book passage on one and just disappear somewhere in the world.
But Alfreda wasn’t there to advise her or agree to go along, so it was just a brief thought. Her friend would probably attribute her revisiting an option they’d already dismissed to wedding nerves. But Brooke wanted the wedding, had wanted it from the moment she’d clapped eyes on the wolf. However, she was nervous now about their wedding night.
After what Dominic had said last night at dinner, she definitely expected to be in his bed for it. In a nice room this time, with wine and maybe some sweets and . . . would it be as amazing as the first time, or horrible? With his feeling trapped by her, listening to his mother disparage her character, and having just been reminded by her brother that he ought not to trust her, it could be the latter.
She did get to see Vauxhall, but declined to leave the carriage to enter it. Willis was right, there would be too much to see in there and she’d rather not go in alone. She did get to drive through Hyde Park though, down the lane that would be filled on the weekend with the carriages of the upper crust of society, since it was a noted place to meet or just be seen. Adjacent to it was Rotten Row, where she hoped to ride Rebel someday. She also saw St. George’s church in Hanover Square, where all the high-society weddings took place, and wondered if that’s where she was going to be married.
It occurred to her that her parents might often come to these places, but neither of them would ever take her along. She had a brother in London, but she’d never go anywhere with him. She even had a fiancé, but the only place he’d taken her was to an apothecary shop—for his mother. She felt so alone in this town. She didn’t even have Alfreda. And the maid wouldn’t arrive for another day or two.
She ended the tour on Bond Street and left the coach to find some shoes and maybe another apothecary so she could make a salve for the blister on her foot. Traveling boots weren’t meant to be worn daily. The two footmen followed her at a discreet distance; they just didn’t enter the shops with her. She entered many of them, even after she found a new pair of shoes, which she changed into immediately, and a few shops farther down the street she even found some calendula for a salve.
She didn’t find spending money in the great London shops as much fun as she’d thought it would be, but she continued shopping, or mostly peering in shop windows, because she was in no hurry to return to the Wolfe house. Maybe Dominic would think she’d fled and worry—or rejoice.
She gritted her teeth and entered another shop before she noticed what it was. Fabrics. London fabrics. She didn’t need any, had a brand-new wardrobe, yet she couldn’t resist seeing the selections to be had here in the biggest port town in the country.
“What the devil, Brooke. I was beginning to think you’d never slow down.”
She closed her eyes with a cringe. Had Robert been following her?
“Put this away quickly.”
Whatever he just put in her hand, she closed a fist around it instinctively and dropped it in the pocket of her pelisse. That he glanced back toward the front of the shop to see if one of her footmen was looking inside to notice made her even more nervous.
“What are you up to now, Robert?” she demanded.
“Don’t take that tone with me when I’m just helping you out.”
“Like you did when you told Dominic that I promised to poison him? That kind of help could have gotten me killed, or was that the plan?”
He shrugged. “It would have solved our problem.”
She wasn’t hearing anything she didn’t expect to hear from him. He wouldn’t care.
“Whatever you just gave me is going to be thrown away. I’m not going to poison him for any reason, certainly not for you.”
“It’s not poison,” he insisted. “Just something to make him sick and disoriented enough to send you packing. I’ll settle for him losing everything when he does that.”
She didn’t believe him. He was too much of a coward to want Dominic to remain alive, destitute or not, not after what Robert had done to warrant those duels.
“D’you really think he’s still going to try to kill you after I marry him? He won’t, you know. He has more honor than that, to kill family—unlike you. Beating you senseless though, now that’s allowed.”
She probably shouldn’t have ended that with a half smirk. Robert flushed with livid color, but when he raised a fist to her, she thrust her chin out and snarled, “Go ahead, I dare you. I’d love to see you in jail for it. If you think I won’t scream murder to see that happen, think again.”
“Bitch,” he snarled as he walked away.
“Defiler of innocents,” she said just loudly enough that only he would hear it.
He didn’t stop. She did see both his hands form fists. And he almost broke the door to the shop he slammed it so hard on his way out. But then she’d never spoken to him like that before. Maybe she should have made clear a long time ago just how much she hated him, instead of going out of her way to avoid him. Did he think she had forgiven or forgotten the pain he’d caused her when she was too young to know how to prevent it?
She didn’t need to sniff what was in the vial he’d given her before she threw it in a rubbish bin. She didn’t doubt it was poison of one kind or another, despite Robert’s denial. He wasn’t going to stop trying to get rid of Dominic for one simple reason—because he wouldn’t feel safe until he did.