Chapter Eleven #2
An image of Drake, his friend, he now understood, congealed.
He batted back an initial wave of nausea and forced himself to maintain the vision.
Though he could not hear the man’s voice, could not remember him, per se, he could be no one other than Georgina’s brother, with those dimples and those dark curls.
Ah. But this memory, if he could call it that, this was new. He saw Drake in his uniform, standing at attention before a company of soldiers, hair powdered as befitting an officer.
He started to sketch the scene. It came to life before his eyes. He was good. Very good. A queasy wrongness came over him, urging him to set the pencil aside. To store the pad in a bottom drawer.
At the same time, this felt like a piece of him, the real him, rising to the surface.
In other words, he was damned confused. Again. Gritting his teeth against the conflicting emotions, he kept at the drawing.
In the distant recesses of his brain, disjointed words echoed. Dissolute. Libertine. Riff Raff. Irregular.
Ashamed.
Disappointed.
Laughingstock.
Enough, he shouted inwardly.
The words receded, even as a rage that had no direction snaked through him.
He closed the book, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the cool stuccoed wall. A short break, he promised himself, to banish the echoes.
Georgina’s image appeared in his mind. Peace washed through him, imagining her, her light, the kindness and warmth that eked from her very pores the moment her eyes lit on him.
He smiled to himself recalling the way her expression had gone slack the moment she caught sight of him, clean shaven, forearms and throat bare, sans stockings or boots.
Future earls do not go about half dressed.
His eyes opened. He knew that voice. It was the voice of his father.
Throughout dinner that evening, Teddy considered whether to broach the subject of his relationship with the earl. Doing so felt…shameful, for lack of a better word. And yet, he had made his mind up to unearth his past.
He set aside his cutlery, leaned back in his chair, and slid a covert glance toward Georgina.
He enjoyed watching her eat her tart, amused by her preference to fork up tiny bites as if to savor every morsel.
She looked quite the morsel herself, in her silvery-gray silk evening gown with its capped, off-the-shoulder sleeves and a bodice that, though not what anyone would call revealing, dipped lower than any other gown in which he’d seen her thus far.
The enticing, feminine swell of her breasts called to him like a siren’s song.
She sat very straight in her chair, dark curls piled high on her crown as usual, and forked up the final bite, then smiled up at the young maid, Peggy, who bustled forth to clear the last of the plates and offer more wine.
“Just a drop,” Georgina said.
He was glad she had not declined. He was not prepared to say goodnight and was glad for the small indication she was not ready, either.
Thanks to his time spent out of doors, both on the seashore earlier and sunning out on his balcony, his skin had developed a healthy cast. His hair was neatly combed, his face clean shaven, his evening clothes, pressed, lint free, and tailor fit to his athletic frame.
In short, he was looking well, as he’d noted before departing his guest chamber to join Georgina for dinner.
He was fairly certain his wife had also noticed.
She tried to hide it, but her frequent glances in his direction, the sparkle in her silvery eyes, the flash of her dimples, and breathless quality of her voice when addressing him told him as plainly as if she’d spoken the words aloud.
He watched the maid depart the chamber, her hands full, and gave silent thanks he had not been forced to endure more of Danvers’s stoic company.
Although, the two of them had reached an impasse, of sorts, as it seemed the surly butler approved of Teddy’s decision to clean up his appearance, he was also disinclined to converse beyond his monosyllabic responses to Ted’s questions.
Yes, he’d retired from the military. No, the two of them had never had occasion to meet.
This last had been said in a tone of clear impatience. Evidently, he felt the question had been asked and answered.
“Where did you say you found Danvers, again? He’s rather uppity, isn’t he? Certainly not your usual sort of butler.”
The smile she sent him held a tinge of satisfaction. “Usual? No, indeed. But, uppity? I prefer the word ‘brusque.’”
He snorted and lifted his wine glass for a slow sip.
“He came to me—us—highly recommended by Colonel Lord Culver, my dear friend, Amelia’s husband.”
“I see.”
“Lord Culver sold his commission prior to his marriage to Lady Amelia. Her father is the Earl of Fallsgate. Do the names ring any bells?”
He thought a moment. Shook his head.
“Lord Culver earned the moniker ‘Iron Lion of Barrosa’ during his tour.”
Iron Lion. That did sound familiar.
“Home from the war, he noted the immense number of veterans in need of help.”
“What sort of help?”
She gave an elegant, one-shoulder shrug. “Rejoining day-to-day life. In some cases, difficulties existed due to either physical or mental impairment. In other cases, their employment ceased to exist.”
“In which scenario does Mr. Danvers fit?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You hired a man to work in our home, with no clue as to his mental stability?”
She pursed those luscious, full lips in scornful dismissal of his complaint. “Lord Culver would not have installed a deranged ex-soldier in my—our—home. And I do know a few things about him, for your information.”
He grinned, amused by her show of defiance. “Such as?”
Her chin rose a fraction. “Mr. Danvers was a trusted member of the colonel’s regiment and is highly educated. According to Lord Culver, Mr. Danvers made it his mission to teach the illiterate men amongst the troops to read and write.”
“Well. That is laudable. So the man’s a teacher, by trade?”
Her eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t believe so. I suggested as much to him once, and he denied it. If I had to guess, I’d say some sort of clergy.”
He could see that. The bastard had a judgmental streak a mile wide.
In fairness, a kindness lurked behind the man’s brusque exterior. He’d done more for Teddy by standing with him on the special-medicine front than had his own family.
He started to push back from the table, and instant dismay crossed her face.
“Shall we retire, then?” she said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
He bit back a grin. “As a matter of fact, I rather hoped we might continue our conversation in the receiving room—if you’re not too tired after working for the last several hours.”