39. Chapter 39 #3
“No notion? Really? No notion of how your filthy reputation precedes you all over town, crawling its way up from the gutters and seedy hells that actually permit your patronage? Noblemen can be bastards when it comes to their dealings with those whom they view as their lessers. Such as prostitutes and maids, hm? Nobody cares much what gentlemen do, so long as they’re generally discreet and pay the house handsomely. Until it becomes too much.
“So, bravo, Lord Montrose. You’ve reached that illustrious pinnacle.
You’ve made a real name for yourself. You stand out amongst the ton for your sick tastes—enough that your patronage is not welcome.
I even hear tell that your wife must go outside London these days when seeking to hire household staff of the female variety—but I’ll get back to that. ”
“How dare you? How dare you come into my home and insult me?”
“How dare you, sir,” Sterling said in a softly menacing voice.
He started wandering again, in a seemingly aimless manner.
“But I wasn’t finished detailing your sleazy antics.
You see, I know your son followed in your footsteps, Montrose.
I also know neither you nor your wife did much to curtail him.
You? I can perhaps see why not. Chip off the old block, hm? ”
Montrose glowered.
Sterling paused near the double doors. “But your wife? Gaston’s own mother?”
“Keep my son’s name out of your damned mouth, Randall. You’ll regret this. Mark me.”
“I suppose Lady Montrose did try to manage his proclivities by limiting his access to female staff. Access, to which you have not seen fit to limit yourself—but that is going to change. From now, on, your house will be staffed with males only.”
Montrose gave scoffing laugh. “I don't know who you think you are, Randall, but the last time I checked, a marquess trumped a viscount.”
Sterling spread his arms wide, nonchalant.
“I’m not contesting your noble rank, milord.
I’m merely telling you the facts of life.
No more access to defenseless females will be granted to you in your household.
And now, allow me to tell you what will happen to you if you think to spread malicious gossip about my wife. ”
He turned, and opened the double doors to reveal Lady Montrose, standing in the corridor. She struggled to right herself from the half-bent position she’d been in while pressing her ear to the doors.
Sterling sent her his coldest smile. “Do join us.”
The regal blond lifted her chin and hurried toward her husband.
“Are you recovering, Lady Montrose, from the loss of your son?” Sterling asked her as she reached her husband’s side.
She eyed him warily. “I shall never recover.”
“Do you think it’s the guilt?” he asked.
She stiffened. “I have no notion—”
“You knew. You knew precisely what kind of monster you helped create.” He broke off, tapping his chin with his index finger.
“It occurs to me, looking at the two of you together, that he was just like you. A perfect blend of angry, entitled, and arrogant. The wonder of it is how Annabelle managed to survive this household with such an innate sweetness about her that even you could not stamp out, despite your best efforts.”
They gaped at him.
He went on. “Here’s what’s going to happen.
If I hear one peep about my wife, one hint that her marriage was due to anything other than her husband being totally enamored with her—as the ton will soon see with their own eyes—I’m going to take out the entire ad section of The Times to tell the world exactly what sort of man you are, Montrose, and what your son was.
“Additionally, I’m going to shout it from the rafters that you, Lady Montrose, knew all along about your husband’s and your son’s disgusting habits. I assure you, I can weather the scandal. I can and will protect my wife. My family will stand by me and Annabelle—unlike her own poor excuse for kin.
“You, Lord Montrose, Lady Montrose will find yourselves blackballed everywhere. Trust me on this.”
Sterling pulled his pocket watch from his outer waistcoat pocket. “I’m afraid I have to conclude this little meeting. I have a lunch date—with my wife and the rest of my family. We’re having a celebratory brunch. It’s too bad you all were out of town for it, but there you are.”
He tucked his watch back into his pocket. “I shall have my solicitor come by to discuss a change in household staff with Lady Montrose. You will pay the women in your employ a stipend, and send them off with excellent references. Do I make myself clear?”
They merely stared at him.
“Later today, you will send a letter to my wife, your daughter, expressing your heartfelt congratulations on her wedding. And you will invite us, my sister, and my parents to dinner. We will accept. You will say nothing snide, nothing cruel, nothing, in short, to hurt Annabelle. If you do, there will be consequences.” He glanced between the two of them. “Any questions?”
Neither spoke.
“Oh, and one thing more.” He allowed the fury running roughshod through him to show in his eyes. “For my wife’s sake, I overlooked that slur earlier. Call my wife a whore one more time, Montrose, and be prepared to answer for it over pistols at dawn.”