Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“There is one more thing that we need to discuss,” Mr. Andrews began with what Hudson could tell was great caution.
“Speak,” Hudson said.
“I know this is not my place,” Mr. Andrews said. “And if I have overstepped, please tell me so. But considering our current relationship, I feel that it behooves me to bring attention to the matter. I would not feel right if I simply said nothing—”
“Out with it, man,” Hudson groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Or I shall open the door to this carriage and kick you from it.”
Mr. Andrews chuckled nervously, searching for the joke.
But Hudson looked back at him flatly, no sense of humor in his stare, because he was not joking.
Granted, the carriage was moving at a gentle trot, so if Mr. Andrews was to suddenly be sent from inside, he would not seriously hurt himself.
It was more what the gesture implied than anything, that Hudson was not in the mood for games.
“This past month has seen your personal expenses expand to levels that, to be perfectly honest with you, are beginning to cause concern,” Mr. Andrews said.
“Is that right?”
“I am not your accountant,” he clarified.
“Nor do I pretend to be. But I do have a vested interest in your finances—as I am paid to have. Nothing I have seen this past month is cause for immediate alarm, mind you. It is rather the fact that these expenditures, as random as they appear, continue to grow. My job is to make you money, Your Grace. That is it. A simple enough task, to be fair, but one made infinitely harder by what appears to be a third party with little care or worry for where the money comes from.”
Hudson stuck his tongue into the side of his mouth with frustration.
Partly at himself. Partly at the fact that Mr. Andrews had noticed the recent spending from his accounts and partly that he had seen fit to bring it up—to bring attention to it.
It made Hudson feel exposed, as if Mr. Andrews was judging him.
Never mind the worry he felt that word of this might spread among his peers in the ton.
If they heard about his wife’s tantrum, and then caught wind of her spending, the assumption might be that Hudson had folded like a deck of cards under her will.
That would make him look weak. And that was something that he could not abide.
“It is fine,” Hudson said. “I am aware of it. I am keeping an eye on it. There is no need to worry.”
Mr. Andrews sucked through his teeth. “It is just that—”
“I said it is fine!” Hudson barked, which saw Mr. Andrews yelp and cower back in his seat.
Hudson rolled his eyes at the little man’s theatrics, and he very nearly apologized.
After all, Mr. Andrews was only doing his job.
This past month had seen the broker go above and beyond for Hudson, securing gigantic swaths of land for him, partnering him in numerous new business ventures and lucrative trades, very nearly doubling Hudson’s finances.
..while making a pretty penny for himself also.
He did not apologize, however. Not only did he not care to, but he thought that Mr. Andrews had overstepped. As the man said, he was not Hudson’s accountant and where Hudson spent his money should have been of no concern.
Then again, it wasn’t as if Hudson was the one who was spending the money. Which was likely why Mr. Andrews had decided to stick his nose in.
It had been a vexing month for Hudson, in ways he had not counted on. This marriage... it came with a sharpened edge, he was beginning to learn, one which cut both ways.
On the one hand, it had proven lucrative and bolstered his name as he had intended for it to; truly, it was perhaps the smartest investment he had ever made. While on the other, his relationship with his wife was as pitiful and hopeless as was possible.
That was the cause for all this spending.
It had been a month now since he and Florentia had wed, a month in which the two had avoided each other as the sun avoided the moon.
A month in which the two had lived in the same manor while somehow able to live as if the other did not exist. A month in which Hudson had tried his best to put her out of his mind entirely but was constantly reminded of her existence through no fault of his own.
She was just so busy. If she wasn’t redecorating every room in the manor, she was hiring new staff for tasks he did not know or care to ask about.
If she wasn’t buying new horses to fill the stables with, she was having new stables constructed for them.
Clothes. Exotic foods. More books than he could count.
The bills piled up on his desk at an alarming rate, and with each new expenditure, Hudson found his patience being tested.
It is as if she is trying to annoy me into speaking with her. Is that her task? To break me slowly so I will give in? So I will decide it’s better to occupy her with a child than to see myself go bankrupt?
But he would not break. He would not yield. Hudson had been firm with her that first evening for good reason, and no amount of lucrative spending would change his mind. He did not want to have a child. Dammit, he did not want to be married in the first place! Why could she not see that?
And yes, at times, he did feel bad for the way things had happened, and he cursed himself for not being more upfront with her from the beginning.
But there wasn’t anything they could do about it now, and he would not give into such childish acts as she was currently engaged with. That simply wasn’t his way.
“Here we are,” Mr. Andrews said with a sigh of relief as the carriage pulled into Worthington Manor. “Leave these papers with me, Your Grace. I shall comb through them as if my life depends on it.”
“Or as if you are being paid to do so,” Hudson muttered. The two men were just now coming back from a business meeting in London, yet another opportunity presented on account of Hudson’s marriage.
“Yes...” He chuckled nervously. “That too—good lord!” Mr. Andrews shuffled to the window in the carriage, peaking outside with a look of abject confusion. “What on earth is going on?”
It took Hudson a moment to understand what the man was on about. He bent down and gazed down the drive, seeing nothing out of the ordinary...until he did.
Streaming around the side of the manor, he now saw, were dozens of workers.
They carried planks of lumber. Panes of glass.
Rolled barrels which were filled with what Hudson could only imagine.
Some, he saw, carried potted plants, others shared literal trees between them.
At first, he thought that perhaps they were tearing up his back garden, only to realize that the men were carrying all these supplies toward it.
“I...I have no idea...”
“Whatever it is, it looks expensive,” Mr. Andrews said. Hudson turned back and glared at the man, who gulped. “Not that it is any of my business.
No. The business lies with me. Business which I have had just about enough of.
Hudson was quick to exit the carriage once it pulled up, reminding Mr. Andrews to send for him as soon as the papers were filled out, while also reminding him that whatever this was that he was seeing just now was not to be spoken about to anyone.
Mr. Andrews, predictably, was eager to assure him so.
Hudson stormed around the side of the manor, bypassing all manner of workers and builders and gardeners, most of whom barely paid him any mind as they were far too focused on what they were doing. Whatever it was that they were doing.
It was when Hudson breached the back garden that he saw it. And if he had been confused before, that confusion quickly gave way to anger.
The back garden of Worthington Manor dated back to his great-grandfather, a man whom Hudson had never known, but who was said to have an eye toward landscaping.
He had designed it himself, with its colorful flowerbeds, and the styled hedges that cut through the large pace, paired with the perfectly selected statues and marble benches and water features, supposedly modeled after the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Now, it lay in ruin!
The back corner of the garden had been pulled to pieces and flattened out; space made for what looked to be some sort of greenhouse. It was still in the early stages of construction. No walls yet. No design. Just the floor, currently being paved by eight men.
Hudson’s mouth hung open as he took it in, shock rolling through him.
He might have wondered how this had happened, who gave the order!
But there was no need to ask the question, as standing back from the building sit, arms folded across her chest, looking mighty pleased with herself, was his dear wife.
He balked at the sight of her, for he had not laid eyes upon her for some time and was caught by surprise. The smile on her face, the excitement in her movements, the sheer sense of joy radiating from her....it made his stomach turn and his mouth salivate, and his knees shake. She is beautiful...
But that would not dissuade Hudson. A shake of the head and he started toward her. “What on earth is going on!”
“Ah, Hudson!” she beamed at the sight of him. “I had no idea you were home.”
“I asked you a question!” He stepped around three men who were tearing out a row of hedges, very nearly snarling at them to stop. But they were not the problem.
“I thought the answer would be obvious, no?”
“Is this funny to you?”
“Am I laughing?”
Hudson came to a stop several feet away from her.
The momentary shock of the situation had passed, and with it, so had his immediate rage.
Hudson didn’t like getting angry. He didn’t like losing his cool.
Any emotion, whether it be happiness or fury, was a weakness, as it caused one to act in ways that they ordinarily would not do. Almost always to negative effect.