Chapter Eight #2
‘Cassie.’ Leo shot his sister a warning look. ‘You’re not helping.’
‘Because I’m furious! And not just about them not seeing her. Tell him what else they did!’
Leo tilted his head. ‘What else did they do?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes, it does!’ Cassie put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, if you won’t tell him, I will! After their ball, they locked her in her bedroom like an animal, with only bread and water. She wasn’t allowed to see or speak to anyone until your wedding day.’
‘Is that true?’ He clamped his brows together.
Florence gave a jerky nod without looking at him. ‘So their butler told me.’
‘For the whole time?’
‘I think so, although I don’t know how long that was.’
‘Four days.’
‘Four?’ A look of hurt flashed across her face.
‘I’m afraid so.’ He ground his teeth at the admission.
In his defence, obtaining a special licence had taken a little longer than he’d expected, but he hadn’t exactly been in a rush.
He hadn’t made any attempt to visit her either.
He’d spent most of the time brooding over a bottle of brandy, trying to think of some way to escape the marriage.
And all the while she’d been trapped alone in a room with only bread and water for sustenance.
It was a good thing it hadn’t been winter or Lady Wadlow would probably have deprived her of a fire too, although it would have been partly his fault if she had.
A stab of guilt pierced him at the realisation.
‘Could you be a little more outraged?’ Cassie threw her hands up again. ‘You’re the Marquess of Rainton and those people mistreated your wife! And now they’ve insulted her! Aren’t you angry at all?’
‘Just because I’m not storming around the room doesn’t mean I’m not angry.’
‘Then do something!’
‘There’s no need.’ Florence shook her head. ‘Truly.’
‘Yes, there is.’ He waited for her to meet his gaze again before standing up and holding a hand out. ‘Cassie’s right. Come on.’
‘What do you mean?’ She looked at his outstretched fingers dubiously.
‘I mean that they may have refused to see you, but they won’t refuse to see me. If you want answers, let’s go and get them.’
‘Oh, good!’ Cassie gave a small bounce. ‘I’ll get my bonnet.’
‘Just Florence and I.’ He clarified. ‘This is between us and the Wadlows.’
‘But—’
‘We can manage perfectly well on our own.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Can’t we?’
‘You’d really help me?’ Florence gave him a long, evaluating look.
‘I will. I should have offered last night, but I hope you’ll accept my help now. This is our marriage and our problem, is it not?’
‘Yes.’ Slowly, she lifted a hand and placed her fingers in his. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘Would you care for some tea, my lord?’ Lady Wadlow, sitting ramrod-straight beside her husband on a green velvet sofa, gave a pointed cough. ‘My lady?’
Florence, sitting beside her own husband on the opposite sofa, looked down at the assortment of cups and saucers set out on the drawing-room table and wondered if the contents of the teapot might be poisoned.
As it turned out, Leo had been right. The Wadlows had been at home for a marquess, although the atmosphere in the room was so horrible, her skin was actually crawling.
She’d never understood that expression before, but now it struck her as the exact right phrase.
She couldn’t have felt any more uncomfortable if an entire swarm of ants were wriggling their way over her body.
Both Lord and Lady Wadlow looked like two people biting their tongues so hard, they were in danger of spitting blood, their obsequious attitude towards Leo obviously warring with their blatant fury towards her.
Every time their eyes so much as drifted in her direction, they ripped them away again as if she were somehow contagious.
She’d never experienced such a visceral degree of loathing before and the effect was chilling.
Half of her wanted to run from the room, the other half needed answers.
Either way, her lips appeared to be frozen.
‘No.’ Fortunately, Leo answered for both of them. ‘Thank you, but this isn’t a social call. We’re here because we have some questions.’
‘What questions?’ Lord Wadlow sounded suspicious.
Leo tipped his head towards Florence, as if prompting her to begin, which was nice of him, she thought, just as it was nice of him to use the word ‘we’, though frustratingly her voice still seemed to be trapped.
To her relief, however, he appeared to understand the problem, giving a small cough before turning back to the Wadlows. ‘You may have heard that Lady Rainton recently suffered a head injury that resulted in some memory loss. Since she has no recollection of our engagement, we—’
‘Harrumph.’ Lady Wadlow made a disparaging sound.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Leo tipped his head sideways again.
‘Nothing. Do go on, my lord.’
‘Very well. As I was saying, Lady Rainton has no memory of your ball last month. Naturally, I’ve told her my own recollections, but she believes there may have been some kind of misunderstanding regarding what happened in the library.
We therefore came to London to speak with your daughter, but, as Mrs Vaughan is no longer here, it seemed prudent to visit you instead.
In short, we’d like to ask whether you think it’s possible there was some innocent explanation for our being compromised? ’
‘Ha!’ Lady Wadlow sounded like a woman who’d been holding her ‘ha!’ in for a very long time. It was so loud, it seemed to echo around the walls.
‘That would be a no, I take it?’
‘There was no misunderstanding.’ Lady Wadlow’s eyes flashed daggers. ‘You arranged to speak with my daughter in the library and she went with the express intention of compromising you, using some ridiculous story about a message to keep you there. It was simply a ploy.’
‘But not a very good one.’ Florence protested, finding her voice finally.
‘That’s one of the things that doesn’t make sense to me.
I mean, if I’d really wanted to compromise the marquess, surely I would have needed some more effective means of keeping him with me?
Otherwise, how could I have been sure anyone would find us together? ’
‘It’s true, we were discovered surprisingly quickly,’ Leo mused. ‘We can’t have been alone together for more than thirty seconds.’
‘She was lucky!’
‘It could have been chance, I suppose, but that would have been risky.’ Florence looked straight at Lady Wadlow. ‘What was it that made you come to the library that evening?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Lady Wadlow twisted her face to the side, as if she resented being spoken to directly. ‘It was over a month ago.’
‘Still, there must have been some reason. For the Earl and Countess of Malvern too. And Baron Paltrow and Lady Lansbury. What made so many people suddenly decide to visit the library during a ball?’
‘Are you thinking that somebody might have sent them to find us?’ Leo sounded thoughtful.
‘It’s possible.’
‘Yes, but why?’
Florence opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to think of an answer. She was the only person who’d stood to gain from their being caught together.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I just thought it might be significant. I mean, if we only knew who suggested going to the library in the first place, that might tell us something.’
‘It was me,’ Lord Wadlow intoned sombrely. ‘I was the one who suggested it. I wanted to show the Malverns my rare edition of Fielding.’
‘Oh.’ Her stomach dropped.
‘There you go.’ Lady Wadlow’s tone was gloating. ‘Not so significant, after all.’
‘What about Amabel?’ Florence lifted her chin. ‘Did she mention anything about the message?’
‘She told you at the time, there was no message!’
‘But maybe she remembered one afterwards? Something she hadn’t thought was a message, but actually…was?’ She faltered, realising how ridiculous the words sounded. ‘Or did she mention something else? Anything that might explain what happened? Even if it’s a tiny detail, it could be helpful.’
‘My daughter was so shocked, she could barely speak at all.’ Lady Wadlow pressed a hand to her throat.
‘I’ll never forget the look on her face.
To witness her so-called best friend stealing her suitor!
And to think that we were the ones who brought you to London, who fed and clothed you and provided a roof over your head, little realising that all the while we were cherishing a viper in our nest! ’
‘Perhaps you ought to go and lie down, my dear?’ Lord Wadlow put a restraining hand on his wife’s shoulder, his gaze flicking nervously towards Leo.
‘Ha!’ Lady Wadlow’s exclamations were getting louder.
She was beginning to resemble Cassie, pushing her husband’s hand away, her own practically shaking with fury as she pointed a finger towards Florence.
‘Why shouldn’t I speak my mind? This was your nasty little plan all along, wasn’t it?
And if your parents think they can lord it over us when we return to Cumberland, they can think again! ’
‘They wouldn’t!’ Florence gasped, shocked by the other woman’s venom. ‘My parents would never do anything like that.’
‘Your parents raised an ungrateful, back-stabbing, conniving little—’
‘That’s enough.’ Leo’s voice was like flint.
‘Why? You didn’t want to marry her!’ Lady Wadlow was clearly unable to stop. ‘You would have found a way out of the marriage if you could. You wanted Amabel! Or do you deny it?’
‘I don’t believe I’m obliged to confirm or deny anything. My thoughts are my own business. I would, however, remind you that Florence is now my wife.’
‘She’s still a—’
‘My wife,’ Leo pushed himself to his feet so abruptly, everyone jumped, ‘not to mention the Marchioness of Rainton, and I refuse to stand by while she is insulted.’ He tipped his head back, looking down his nose at the Wadlows.
‘And should I hear any reports of her being maligned in such terms again, or of her parents being slandered, then I shall make it my personal business to have you blackballed by the ton. Is that understood?’
‘I say!’ Lord Wadlow spluttered.
‘Similarly, should Her Ladyship choose to call on you in the future, unlikely though that prospect may be, I suggest that you be at home.’ He turned towards Florence. ‘Do you have anything to add?’
‘Um…no.’ She shook her head, gaping with bafflement and disbelief, as she rose to her feet beside him. Was he really standing up for her? Sounding genuinely angry too? Even if it was only his family name that he was defending, it made her feel better, as if not everyone in the room hated her.
‘Then I believe that concludes our business.’ Leo placed a hand on the small of her back, not even glancing at the Wadlows as they headed for the door. ‘Good day.’