Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Giles stared at Michael’s front door, taking a deep breath to shore himself up. Beside him, his valet looked much as he felt. “What’s made you so miserable? I thought you’d be thrilled to be leaving London for a while.”
“I would be, if we were going home. But my older sister is the housekeeper here.”
“Mrs. Thistle is your sister? But your name is Thistlefield.”
He nodded. “So is hers. She dropped the end when she came to work here.”
“Is that why you hate that I call you Thistle? Do you not get along with her?”
He shrugged. “You don’t have an older sister, so you won’t really understand. Even at forty-five, and a butler and valet, my work won’t be good enough.”
“I do understand, actually. I’ll be lucky if I make it out of here without sustaining another beating from Michael.” With a sigh, he looked at his valet. “Perhaps this evening, we can lick our wounds together.”
He found his cousin occupying a large leather armchair in a dimly lit drawing room. His eyes were closed and his feet were stretched out in front of him, but he wasn’t sleeping. His hand gripped a half-empty glass, and tension radiated from every inch of him.
“Ash will be glad to hear it’s barley water you’re nursing.”
His eyes opened and a grateful smile grew on his face. He set his drink on the side table and got to his feet. “I’m glad to see you.” He wrapped his arms around Giles. He’d gladly take a hug over a beating, but it wasn’t like Michael. His cousin must be worried.
“Of course I’m here. I’m looking forward to meeting your heir when he comes into the world.”
“The doctor hopes he’ll stay in there for at least another week or two. It’s early yet. And besides, what if the baby’s a girl?”
“Don’t even say that.”
“I’ll be happy with either one, just as long as the baby and Belle are both healthy.”
“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been praying for it to be a boy.”
Michael chuckled. “You know, most people would be thrilled at the prospect of becoming an earl.”
“Well, not me. Right now I have most of the benefits without any of the responsibilities.”
“You’ll have to pour your own brandy if you want it.” Michael’s jaw clenched. “If this goes on much longer, I’m afraid I’ll have to have the staff hide it again.”
“I’ll have the same thing you’re having.” He poured himself a glass of barley water. Drinking brandy would be like rubbing salt in Michael’s wound.
“Speaking of responsibilities, how is life as a married man?” Michael asked as he sat back down.
Giles settled himself into the chair with a sigh. “Not really any different.” His wife was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of.
“And what does your mother think?”
Correction, his mother was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of. He ignored the question and took another drink.
Michael groaned. “You haven’t told her?”
“Am I supposed to send the news to Bournemouth in a telegram? It hardly seems appropriate.”
“I know your mother, Giles. If she comes to find you have a wife and haven’t told her…?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try to put you over her knee.”
Giles couldn’t even laugh. If she knew how he’d been treating his wife, she’d undoubtedly do just that. “I haven’t come here to talk about my wife or my mother.”
“Be that as it may, you’re being naive to think she hasn’t heard the rumors. They get scandal sheets in Bournemouth too.”
“That’s quite enough, old chap.” He got up from his chair. “Suddenly, I feel like imbibing in something stronger than barley water.”
He poured himself a generous glass of brandy, downed the entire thing, and refilled it before putting the stopper back into the bottle.
Stupidly, he hadn’t even considered that his mother might have learned of his folly.
But of course she would have. The speculation had been on the front page of all the gossip rags.
Everyone wanted to know the story of how some unknown woman had managed to convince him to marry.
And in such a hurry. Of course they all assumed she must have seduced him and then fallen pregnant.
In truth, his mother would probably be thrilled that he was married, regardless of how it came to pass.
She’d be even more thrilled if they really were expecting a child.
But if she knew the way he’d treated his wife, knew that he’d shouted at her, insulted her, and abandoned her, locked up in his home alone, she’d be furious with him.
And rightly so. He downed the second glass and poured a third.
“Easy there, Giles. The brandy isn’t going anywhere. You can save some for later.”
“Someone ought to drink it.” He took a swallow.
Michael gave an exasperated sigh and drained his own glass. “I’m going up to check on Belle. Surely the doctor must be finished with her by now.”
That’s what he was supposed to be here for, supporting Michael, not drowning his own sorrows. But what difference did it make? He was useless. Useless as a partner, friend, cousin, and heir. And especially useless as a husband. He downed the rest of his glass and poured yet another.
It wasn’t long before his mind grew blessedly fuzzy, but it didn’t ease his guilt.
Pictures of Christina continued to flash in his mind.
Locked away like a princess in a tower. Only it wasn’t a tower.
It was just his house. He hadn’t thought he was making her a prisoner when he married her.
But what else could she possibly be, abandoned in a strange place, alone?
The stairs were a bit uneven as he climbed them, but luckily, the railing was mostly still. Michael sat on a chair outside Belle’s chambers. Isaac, her bodyguard, sat beside him, looking just as worried. The doctor must not be finished, after all.
“I’m sorry, old chap, but I need to leave for a while. I have to go rescue my wife. She’s not far from here, so it won’t take me very long.”
“Bloody hell, Giles. Did you just come here to drink? What you need is a nap so you can sleep it off.”
Giles shook his head, and grabbed onto the wall to steady himself. “I’m fine. I just thought you should know where I’m going, in case…” He shrugged and turned back down the hall.
“Go with him. Make sure the idiot doesn’t get himself killed.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Pfft.” Giles waved a hand. “I don’t need a minder, Michael.” He stumbled as he turned his head to call over his shoulder. Perhaps he was a bit soused. What did it matter? The horse wouldn’t be drunk.
He waited for one to be saddled, but when he tried to climb on, he only managed to end up on his backside on the ground. Twice. Even with the groom’s help.
Isaac shook his head with a sigh, but held out a hand to help him to his feet. “Perhaps you’ll be safer walking. At least that way you’ll be closer to the ground the next time you fall on your arse.”
“Fair point. But I still don’t need a nanny. I know where to find my own house. You can go back up to Belle. Although, I’m not sure why she needs a bodyguard right now. Unless…” He looked sideways at the man. “Is the child yours?”
Isaac grabbed his lapels and slammed him back against the side of the barn. Oof. Not again. He braced himself for a punch.
“I’m only going to allow that to pass because you’re drunk as a skunk right now. And you’d best be glad you said it to me and not Michael. He’d have had you unconscious with a broken jaw.”
Giles held up his hands and nodded. “Apologies.” Isaac was right. Michael would have knocked him unconscious. “I suppose I was just hoping he might be as useless a husband as I have been.”
“He hasn’t left her side for two weeks. He hardly sleeps or eats.”
More guilt.
“Now, which way’s your house?”
Giles assumed he’d sober up on the long walk, but he only seemed to get increasingly sleepy. His feet were nearly as heavy as his eyelids, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to make it. Eventually, hiccups were the only thing keeping him awake. Bloody annoying things.
It was fully dark by the time he stumbled through his front door. Christina was just starting up the stairs on the far side of the entrance hall. Which was lucky. He could feel the darkness of sleep dragging him under.
“Chrissy!” Even to his own drunken ears, the word was slurred. “I’ve come to rescue you!”
Christina stood frozen, as her husband collapsed in a heap at her feet, the unmistakable smell of booze billowing up from him and filling the room.
A tall, thin man stood behind him shaking his head. “Bloody idiot.” He heaved Giles off the floor and threw his unconscious body over his shoulder. “Where’s his bed?”
Flustered, it took her a moment to understand the question. “This way.” She hurried up the stairs and down the hall, throwing back the blankets on his bed. The man flopped him, none too gently, onto the mattress.
“I’m sorry. I probably should have stopped him before we got here. At least he managed to find the right house, I suppose.”
Christina looked down at her husband and back at the other man. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
“A large helping of drunken guilt, if I had to guess.”
“Do you work for my husband?”
“No. My name is Isaac. I work for his cousin, Lord Dalinridge.”
“Oh.” That still didn’t answer anything really.
Why was her husband here? And with a man who worked for his cousin?
Giles had never actually mentioned his cousin, and although she’d always known he was heir to an earldom, she’d never understood the reality of that until this very moment.
His cousin, Lord Dalinridge, was an earl.
“His estate is about a two hour walk from here. Well, probably only one hour if you’re sober enough to walk in a straight line.”
“I still don’t understand. What is he doing here? And what exactly is he rescuing me from?” There were so many other questions bombarding her, but she wasn’t sure Isaac would be able to answer them.
The man simply shrugged. “Based on his intoxicated ramblings, I think he feels guilty for leaving you here, locked up in a strange house, alone.”