Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Elizabeth sat at her spacious new desk to pen a few necessary letters. Her room contained a dressing table, two armoires, a dressing screen, chaise, two armchairs, washstand, four-poster bed, and yes, modern plumbing. It lacked but one thing: books.
She hoped her precious collection would arrive soon, along with the rest of her more meager belongings. Her writing portfolio, at least, she’d tucked into her wedding chest. She itched to continue the brooding baron’s story, but she had more important missives to compose right now.
Elizabeth wrote first to Annabelle, to assure her she’d survived her wedding night; no more detail than that.
She wrote to the Duchess of Allendale next to thank her for her counsel and boldly request an audience before Her Grace left London.
Then she wrote to Miss Li and to Madam Audrey, asking each to call at their earliest convenience, as she wished to discuss her husband’s—
Elizabeth crossed out the word ‘proclivities’ and wrote ‘history’ when a knock interrupted.
“Ma’am.” The Baron’s butler, Gerald, poked his head inside. “Your first caller has arrived.”
“Already?” She twitched. “But it is barely—”
He nicked his head at the clock and Elizabeth jumped. Where had the morning gone?
“Goodness.” She gave him a tight smile. “May I ask who calls?”
“A Lady Stanton, ma’am, and her”—Gerald hesitated—“pug.”
“In that case, Gerald, you may inform the lady I am unable to entertain her this morning but will call at her home later this week. Let me know when other visitors arrive.”
Gerald frowned, then bowed and left.
Elizabeth returned to her desk, only to be interrupted minutes later by another knock.
“Ma’am.” The butler poked his nose in once more. “The master wishes to see you downstairs.”
“Tell him I am currently engaged but will be down presently.”
“You sure, ma’am?”
“Yes, Gerald, I am sure.” Elizabeth returned to her escritoire, thinking Gerald was a rather odd sort of butler. She’d expected a Very good ma’am or As you wish, ma’am from him instead.
Five minutes later her husband stormed in, ready to pounce. “Did Gerald not deliver my order?”
She cleared her throat to hide her nerves. “He did. But as I was in the middle of correspondence, I did not think you’d mind if I were a few minutes delayed.”
Milton stepped inside. “Did he not inform you Lady Stanton awaits?”
Elizabeth did not wish to cause Gerald any trouble. “He did, sir. I have decided to call upon the lady myself later this week.”
Milton stepped closer.
“I will not entertain her,” she told him firmly.
“Yes, you will.”
“Sir.” She swallowed. “I obeyed your wishes in full last night, as expected of a wife. I find it only fair that for every favor I grant my husband, he grant me one in return.” The idea had just popped into her brain.
“Did I not do you enough favors last night in bed, wife?” Her husband prowled toward her.
“Those were not favors, those were … they were …” She did not know what to call what he’d done to her flesh, but he was making that flesh tingle and prickle the closer he stepped.
“No?” Milton cocked his brow. “You did not enjoy my attentions last night?”
Her face heated. “That is not what I said. You are—”
“I am attempting to ascertain the position of your argument, Elizabeth, though I can think of a few other positions I’d like to argue you into.” His eyes swept her day dress in a lurid caress.
She inhaled sharply. “Milton, please. I do not wish to continue a friendship with Lady Stanton now that she is no longer my neighbor. You know what she is like. Why insist that I—?”
In two strides he hauled her from her seat and propelled her out the door and down the hall in a vice-like grip.
“Must I remind you again, Lizzie, of how our marriage will work? As my wife, it is your duty to further my position in society. I married a well-bred young lady who would not dream of disrespecting her congratulatory callers. Lady Stanton must experience you blissfully wed, enamored of your husband. No, enraptured, I think.”
A maelstrom bubbled up in Elizabeth’s breast.
“You will play your wifely role, and if you play it well—if, my dear—I will reward you with more favors. Will that satisfy your persistent and perverse need for égalité, wife?”
“Fine,” she spat, her insides steaming like a Russian samovar. “But your favor had better be great, sir, because enduring Lady Stanton is a very tall order.”
“Oh, Lizzie.” He chuckled. “All my favors are great, dear. Huge, in fact.” He shoved her into his parlor and proceeded to fawn all over their horrid guest, who seemed delighted by the Baron’s attention, but most especially by his obscene wealth.
“Why, Elizabeth, I can scarce believe you are now mistress of such impressive house as this!” Lady Stanton’s eyes had not stopped appraising Milton’s lavish decor, or the devil himself.
“Neither can I.” Elizabeth forced a smile while she sat upon the settee, taking her husband’s hand in her lap in order to crush it. “But I am very happy, Lady Stanton, most happy indeed.” She forced her smile wide, squeezing her husband’s hand as hard as she could.
“Let’s not get carried away, dear.” He squeezed back, painfully. “We wouldn’t want to give Lady Stanton the impression all is milk and honey in our marriage, now would we?”
Elizabeth’s gut did a flip.
“Was it not just this morning, Elizabeth, that you questioned my authority and wished to dismiss your callers for the day?”
Elizabeth’s jaw locked before it twitched.
“Why, Lizzie.” Lady Stanton’s lips creased into a line.
“You must receive all callers. It is de rigeur. Did your mother not—?” She clapped her hand to her mouth.
“Forgive me, of course she’d not have … That is, she left this world too soon, my dear.
I ought to have seen more to you after your stepmother also passed.
I ought to have prepared you and your sister better. ”
“It is never too late, madam, for us to repair my wife’s shortcomings,” Milton chimed in.
Elizabeth would murder the bastard. She’d—
“Quite right, Baron, quite.” The odious woman nodded her agreement.
“Oh look, Milton, darling.” Elizabeth longed to cuff her husband one. “Sir Wigglebottom has taken a fancy to your boot.” Sure enough, the pug was humping his hessian.
Milton tried to shake the creature off, disgust flitting across his handsome face, before Lady Stanton scooped her pet into her lap.
“Naughty boy!” she scolded. “Have you no shame?”
The pug merely licked her powdered cheek.
Elizabeth took advantage of the distraction. “Lady Stanton, did you know my husband has a wolfhound? An enormous, gorgeous, fellow. Perhaps your pug would like to romp with him while we chat?”
Lady Stanton looked appalled. “A dangerous wolfhound, here in your house? When you know Sir Wigglebottom accompanies me everywhere? I should have been forewarned.” She huffed as she stood. “I must take my leave at once, Lady Milton, before my poor boy gets eaten.”
Both Elizabeth and Milton rose from their seats, though the Baron’s words stopped the lady at the door.
“I apologize for not mentioning my hound sooner, madam, though I hope you will visit us again, perhaps sans pug? If only to assist Lizzie in completing her education. We wouldn’t want her failing in society where her deportment remains lacking. ”
Elizabeth’s attempt to crush her husband’s boot beneath her heel failed.
“You may count on me to assist, Baron.” The pug squirmed in Lady Stanton’s arms. “I consider it my duty to see Elizabeth fully settled in her new role as Baroness. I should like to see her sister settled too, and soon. After all, we neighbors must look out for one another, mustn’t we, Lizzie?”
Elizabeth swallowed bile. “I should like nothing better, Lady Stanton.”
The moment the lady exited, Elizabeth whirled on Milton. “Is it your intention now to goad me, sir, at every conceivable turn? Because it certainly feels like it, inviting that woman to tutor me in etiquette when I have repeatedly expressed to you my distaste for her company.”
“My rule against goading, Elizabeth, applies only to yourself. Though I will clarify that I do not, in fact, goad. I strategically position to elicit sympathy from a woman who loves to gossip, so that her visits here report to society how swimmingly well we get along, and how filthy rich I am.”
Everything he did was calculating in nature, Elizabeth thought, nursing her resentment as she chewed her lip.
“You are quite attractive when angry, wife.” His eyes glowed alarmingly. “Shall I return you that great favor I promised?”
Before she could tell him to rot in hell, Gerald appeared. “Your next caller’s arrived, Lady Milton. A Mrs. Ogilvy, ma’am.”
Milton’s gaze remained locked on Elizabeth. “Show Mrs. Ogilvy to the picture gallery, Gerald, to buy us some time.”
“Very good, sir.” The butler vanished.
“I see.” Elizabeth was now livid. “So Mrs. Ogilvy can wait, but Lady Stanton could not? Just what are you playing at, sir? I should like to know the reason why you—”
He spun her about to press her up against the sideboard.
“Would you like that favor or not,” he whispered gruffly into her neck, his hands reaching up her legs until he muttered “Fuck!” and cursed Ginny roundly.
“Unhand me!” She tried to push him off, but he only bunched her skirts higher, telling her to hold them up, damn it, as he yanked her drawers clean to the floor. He ordered her to step out, now, before he flung the offending garment clear across the room and landed a smack to her bared backside.
Elizabeth found herself in the awkward position of being arse up against a table of decanters, forced to hold her skirts high, naked below her waist but for her stockings and slippers.
“Let me guess,” Milton growled. “Ginny relayed my order, and you ordered her the opposite.”
Well, yes.