The Suffragette Scandal
Free found herself smiling. She came to sit beside him. “Is that how we’ll sully the family name then?”
“Oh, we’ve already made an excellent start on that. But why limit ourselves to just the one option? I might expand the farrier’s station so I can do some metalwork here. If we decide to stay here.” He glanced over at her. “That would employ some of the men, too. And the way I see it, the more people we employ in an actual productive scheme, instead of supporting our degenerate ways…” He swept his hand, indicating the house below. “Well, the better it will be.”
She took his hand. “The massive palace and the ridiculous estates are a significant problem. But I want to run my newspaper.” She hugged her knees. “That’s the one thing I insist upon. Everything else, I suppose we can work with, but my newspaper is not negotiable.”
“Very well, then. We will make that happen. I promise.”
They stared off into the distance. It was really an excellent hillside for a ruined castle. She had a vantage point on the slow, lazy river making its way through the trees. On the far horizon, she could see the sea—sparkling blue waters fading into indistinct sky.
“Someone,” Free said, “is going to have to do the things the lady of the manor is supposed to do.”
She didn’t go on. She was really considering this. She was considering him, considering what she would have to be, have to do, to become his viscountess.
She wasn’t sure who took whose hand, whose fingers twined with whose.
“On the benefit side,” Free said, “that house leaves a lot of room for me to hide the bodies of my enemies.”
His thumb caressed her palm. “We’ll put them in the zebra-striped parlor,” he told her.
“Can’t we just do this instead for the rest of our lives?” Free asked. “Just the two of us. Together. The rest of the world can disappear. I like it like this.”
“No,” he said. “We can’t. You’d be bored in half a day. And how will we fill the zebra-striped parlor with the bodies of your enemies if we never sally forth and slay them?”
She was laughing at that, when she saw a wisp of dust rising from the road. It was still more than a mile distant. “Someone’s coming.”
Edward glanced upward—and then slowly stiffened. His hand pressed into hers. “Yes,” he said slowly. “And…I rather think I recognize the carriage. It would be lovely if it were just the two of us, Free. But it isn’t. That’s my brother.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
EDWARD WAS WAITING WITH FREE in the blue parlor when James Delacey arrived. Free didn’t move as the carriage pulled up on the gravel ring outside the house. But still, it felt as if she drew farther and farther away—as if she were drifting from him on every breath.
Through the gauzy curtains of the parlor, they could see the horses coming up to the house. A footman jumped off the back of his conveyance, setting out a step. Another appeared and opened the door. The first one held out a hand, steadying his brother as he stepped out.
Beside him, Free shook her head. “Are we supposed to have all those footmen?” she whispered in shocked tones.
“Yes,” he whispered back. “But we can flout propriety as much as we like, remember. Supposed to is not a necessity, just a consideration.”
She frowned and folded her arms.
James strode forward confidently, marching up to the house at an even pace.
The front doors remained obstinately shut. James came up short, inches from the wood panels, and frowned at the doors in confusion. Slowly, he retreated a few steps. Then he walked to the doors more tentatively. They still didn’t open.
There were no servants to open them after all. James no doubt had no experience with the concept of no servants.
His brother reached out and, with a quizzical expression on his face, touched the door handle.
“Do you think he’ll be able to figure it out?” Free said beside Edward.
Edward wasn’t sure. Some evil part of him wanted to pull out his pocket watch and see how many seconds would elapse before his brother decided to take on the arduous task of exerting pressure on the handle himself. Instead, he sighed. “It’s your home, Free, whether you accept me or not. With all that my brother has done to you, can we even let him in?”
Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. “With all that he has done to you, can you let him in?”
For a moment, they exchanged glances. She sighed and looked away first; he blew out his breath.
“I suppose we’ll have to have this out with him sooner or later,” Edward said.
Her hands went to her hips. “Sooner,” she said with a growl. “Let’s finish this sooner.”
“Then I’ll show him how hinges operate.”
He left her behind. The front door opened easily, letting afternoon sun spill into the darkened entry.
James was standing there, the strangest expression on his face. When he saw that Edward had opened the door himself, his face turned pale. He put one hand in his pocket.
“Edward,” he said. “Where the devil are all the servants?”
“On a seaside vacation,” Edward replied. “They’ll be back in a few days.”
“All of them?”
He hadn’t come here to talk about the servants. Edward stood to one side and gestured his brother into the house. Not so long ago, James had thought this house his. It must burn him up to have to demand entrance. But if it bothered James, he made no sign of it. He simply followed Edward into the blue parlor.
He didn’t notice Free sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the room. James turned to look at Edward as soon as he came through the door.
“We must talk of the future,” James was saying. “I don’t like what you’ve done. You lied to me and have set the most intense scandal brewing. Everyone in London is talking about your claims at the hearing. There are the most unbelievable rumors about what happened after.”
“Is that so?” Edward asked, not quite politely.
“But it’s not too late.” James gave Edward a decisive nod. “If we are to make it through this affair with some semblance of dignity, you and I must be seen to be on friendly terms.”
“Must we? I should think that would be impossible.”
“Yes.” James sighed, completely misunderstanding. “It will be difficult for me to pretend after what you’ve done to me, but I can do it for the sake of the family name. I’ll start by offering a little advice. You must stop doing ridiculous things like sending all the servants to the seaside. You’ll get a reputation as an eccentric if you keep that up, and you’re laboring under enough of a burden as it is.”