Chapter Seventeen
“I’m sorry, Mr. Liddell. My mind is elsewhere.”
“No trouble at all, Mr. Milton. I suspected it might be, after last night.” The man winked. “A pretty little thing, she is.”
The hairs on the back of Samuel’s neck stood up.
“I’m not sure who you’re referring to.”
“Miss Atherton, of course. Perfectly pretty, refined, poised. I have half a mind to make her an offer.”
Pounding sounded throughout Samuel’s head, though later he would realize that it was his own heart, beating furiously at the idea of someone other than himself approaching Jane. But he had business to tend to with this man, and so he choked back his immediate reaction.
“I was unaware that you were in the market for a wife.”
“A wife? Oh goodness, no, I already have one of those.”
Samuel looked up.
“You do?”
“Yes, although much good she does me. She’s been living in Hanwell Asylum for the last four years.”
Hanwell Asylum had been touted by the papers as one of the more humane hospitals, certainly better than Bedlam, but it was still a place for the mentally incapacitated.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Mr. Liddell laughed.
“Don’t be. She’s proving to be more useful in there than out here, I assure you.”
Samuel’s brow cinched together.
“I don’t understand.”
Mr. Liddell leaned forward.
“It’s a pity thing, isn’t it? A few years ago, when I was pushing a bill for better hospitals, the only sort of sway I could get was from the House of Commons.
When my wife started acting erratic, I had hoped to keep her time away a secret, but nothing stays secret for long in London.
And it was the damnedest thing. Instead of being shamed for it, I found a good deal of support.
In fact, many a member of Parliament spoke on the need for such facilities, as their own wives could become hysterical from time to time and would likely learn a thing or two from staying at an asylum for a spell. ”
Samuel’s entire body was still.
“Are you saying there are members of Parliament who jest about sending their wives to asylums?”
“Of course,” he chuckled. “You have to admit, it would certainly help if the wives disappeared for a few months at a time, so that us gents can get on with our lives. But then, you aren’t married.”
No, he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t understand. I would assume you’d want to keep your wife at home?”
“Do not be na?ve, Milton. Marriage is a social construct, forced upon us by the crown. No one would marry if they had a choice in the matter. Hell, my wife was thoroughly against our union, until I convinced her father it would be a prosperous union.” He sighed.
“Only, she’s been proving to be quite a thorn in my side ever since.
Beautiful woman, but cold as the month of January.
I tried to coax her out of her shell, but some women are just built that way.
Frigid and bitter. I think that’s why I’m so taken with Miss Atherton.
She looks all cold and serious, but there’s a light in her eyes.
A fire that she doesn’t readily let people see.
” He took a sip of his scotch. “That’s why I’ve decided to make her my mistress. ”
Samuel’s entire vision turned red.
“Your. Mistress.”
“Yes. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Milton. You’d have tried it yourself if you weren’t such a monk. She’s too tempting to not fiddle with, isn’t she?”
Samuel cleared his throat. He needed to try and get a handle on himself and the situation, lest he ruin everything by tossing this jackass from his home.
“I’m afraid Miss Atherton has signed a contract. Her employment here will not be satisfied for at least another ten months.”
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come now, Milton. Don’t be like that. What will it cost to buy out her contract? Fifty pounds?”
“Mr. Liddell—”
“Seventy pounds? Surely not a hundred? Don’t try and gouge me, Milton.”
“Miss Atherton’s contract is not for sale.”
Mr. Liddell chuckled again, evidently amused by Samuel’s stance on the matter. It was obvious in the man’s face that he was used to getting what he wanted.
“I’ll not pay more than two hundred for her. No woman’s worth more than that.”
“She is not for sale. She’s a human being.” Samuel stood and walked past Mr. Liddell until he reached the door. He opened it. “And what’s more, I’m afraid our business has concluded, Mr. Liddell. I would ask you to leave now.”
“I beg your pardon? What are you on about, Milton?” he asked as he stood up. “What about the bill?”
“I’m sure there will be another one.”
“Not for at least four years. Do you really think you can continue like this for that long? Alone? You need this to pass.”
“What I need, sir, is for you to leave this house at once.”
Then, like a candle being lit, Mr. Liddell’s eyes widened.
“Tell me this isn’t about the girl?” He laughed heartily in Samuel’s face. “Come now, Milton. You can’t let some lightskirt wench ruin business matters, that’s just—AUGH!”
Samuel hadn’t cared about the last words he sputtered out as he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him forcefully from his office.
The man was sputtering and clawing at Samuel’s fingers that were dug into his throat as dozens of clerks and servants watched wide-eyed.
Samuel dragged him down the stairs, not caring about the man’s footing, across the foyer and with the help of a footman who opened the door, tossed him down the wet front steps of Milton House. He landed in a puddle.
“How dare—”
“Don’t,” Samuel spat. “Your time at Milton House has ended. You are never to set foot upon these grounds again, and if I ever hear rumor of your presence in my city, I’ll drown you in the Clyde myself.”
“Is that a threat? A threat to my life?”
Samuel only turned away and strode back into the house.
“Mr. Milton—” someone said, but he was not in the mood.
“I’ll be in my office for the remainder of the day,” he shouted loudly as he climbed the stairs. “And God help the person who interrupts me.”
With that, Samuel slammed his office door behind him and went immediately to the crystal decanter. He poured himself too much scotch, drank it, then poured himself another one before sinking into the settee that sat in front of the fireplace, alone in his misery.