Chapter 5 #2
“Uncle, look in my wardrobe,” Cecily demanded, not caring whether she was thrown out, as long as she could look for Mary. “There is a bag of food there that I brought home from Mildenhall House for Mary. Why would I do that if I knew she was planning to run away?”
Stomping over to the wardrobe, Lord Holt flung open the doors and picked up the bag, his face twisting with fury before he threw it to the floor.
“Stealing food from your hosts? You, too, only seek to humiliate me in front of the whole world. You ought to be brought before the magistrates or to Bedlam.”
“I did not want to humiliate you, Uncle. I wanted only to feed my sister, who had not had dinner for three days.”
Lord Holt seized her in an iron grip for a second time and raised his arm as though to strike her. Cecily steeled herself for the blow, but it never came.
“My Lord, the Earl of Ashworth is here,” the butler announced. “Should he be shown into the drawing room or your study?”
Lord Holt’s grip on her arm loosened, and his hand dropped, his face abruptly losing some of its ruddiness. He cursed fulsomely, ignoring the presence of his niece and servants, although Cecily knew he would have hesitated to use such language in front of his mother.
“Show him to the drawing room and bring good tea,” he ordered peremptorily. “Tell my mother he is here. I will be downstairs shortly.”
As he went to the door, he turned jaundiced eyes to Cecily again.
“For appearances’ sake, you’d better come downstairs too. But don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”
* * *
Lord Ashworth had not improved at all since Cecily last set eyes on him.
He wore an old-fashioned gray wig on his bald head and smiled wolfishly at her, showing large, yellowed teeth as he bent his head over her hand and tried to look down the neckline of her dress.
She curtsied politely and then stepped back.
Lady Holt was already sitting in an armchair, and a tea tray was steaming on one of the side tables.
“Well, well, Lord Ashworth, we were not expecting you this morning. You find us in some disarray, and I apologize,” Lord Holt said with false bonhomie.
“Have no care for that.” Lord Ashworth gave a toothy grin. “I was passing this way and thought it was time that I dropped in and exchanged a few words with my bride-to-be. Where is the little lady?”
He looked around the room as though expecting Mary to leap out from behind a sofa or a bookcase.
“Ah, pre-wedding nerves, I’m afraid,” Lord Holt replied with a cough and a glance at his mother.
“It is very common in brides,” Lady Holt confirmed. “Very few young girls go to the altar without a few tears. It is the way of things.”
“Still, I should like to see Miss Mary while I am here,” Lord Ashworth insisted, rubbing his hands eagerly. “I have seen her before at balls, of course. I know how fair of face and figure she is, and how sweet and innocent, but I would like to remind myself in anticipation of our wedding.”
Ugh!
The man’s naked lust for young flesh made Cecily’s skin crawl. How on earth could her uncle marry Mary off to such a creature?
At Lord Ashworth’s request, Lady Holt shot her son a look of alarm.
Lord Holt cleared his throat, consternation on his face. Never a very creative man, he was evidently unable to come up with a credible excuse for Mary’s absence. It occurred to Cecily that this might be a prime opportunity for her to influence the would-be bridegroom.
“Mary has run away from home because she does not wish to marry you, My Lord,” she stated calmly, fixing her eyes on Lord Ashworth’s repellent visage. “We don’t know where she has gone.”
“Hold your tongue!” Lord Holt growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s true,” Cecily continued, undeterred despite the offense on the bewigged Earl’s face or how she might be punished later. “How long could you hide this fact from Lord Ashworth? Is it not better that he knows now?”
“Is this true?” Lord Ashworth demanded, his smile vanishing as he turned back to Lord Holt. “If Miss Mary has run away from home and ruined herself, I shall not want her in my bed.”
“I am sure she has not!” Lady Holt interjected. “Most likely, she has gone to weep on the shoulder of an old schoolfriend without telling us. We are sending out to check right now and will have her home before dinner, I expect.”
Schoolfriend? Neither Mary nor Cecily had ever attended school. Rather, they had been tutored by a series of severe governesses recruited by their grandmother.
“She had better be back soon, and she had better be untouched,” Lord Ashworth warned. “Do not expect a penny if you can’t uphold your end of our deal.”
It was every bit as mercenary a transaction as Cecily had expected, yet it was still horrible to have her suspicions confirmed.
“Mary will be back,” Lord Holt stated. “As my mother has told you. Likely, she has had a bout of pre-wedding nerves this morning and is only at the home of a friend, taking tea.”
“These young girls today are such flibbertigibbets, forgetting to leave notes when they go out,” Lady Holt laughed with forced humor that Lord Ashworth did not share.
“I cannot say I approve of such freedoms,” Lord Ashworth opined.
“It takes the bloom off the rose, as it were. Now, the church is booked, our families have been told, and yet my bride is absent. What happens if you cannot find her, Holt? Am I to be publicly humiliated at the altar? What compensation would I be owed for that?”
“I… I have another niece,” Lord Holt suggested, sounding rather desperate, as he pushed Cecily toward the old man. “Cecily is still comely, although she has been out for… several Seasons now.”
Cecily inhaled sharply and glared daggers at the Earl as he briefly ogled her again. She said nothing. At least if she took Mary’s place, she could find a way to disrupt the wedding, even if that meant her uncle putting her in a madhouse afterward.
“No, her figure is good, but this one is too old for my tastes,” Lord Ashworth said dismissively. “Besides, she is a shrew. The younger sister is far sweeter and more compliant, I believe. That is what a man wants.”
“And you shall have it,” Lord Holt vowed. “Will you take some tea, Lord Ashworth?”
“No,” Lord Ashworth refused, unsmiling and thwarted as he made for the door. “Tell me when Miss Mary is back. I want to hear from her lips that she is unsullied.”
“Please, Lord Ashworth,” Lord Holt implored. “Do not let us part on bad terms. We are almost family.”
Wherever Mary was, Cecily had to find her and ensure that she never came anywhere within reach of this perverted dotard. There was only one person in the world who could help her, but would he?
Lord Ashworth turned back at the door with an evil smile on his wrinkled face. “If you make a spectacle of me, Holt, I will ruin you.”