Chapter 30
“How are ye feelin’?” Beatrice asked as she entered Jeremy’s bedchambers, holding a tray.
He had slept soundly since Anna left, though not because he wanted to.
The moment he returned to his wife’s bedchamber, intending to implore Katherine to follow Anna and talk some sense into her, the physician was waiting.
He had given Jeremy several spoonfuls of a tonic that he insisted was for his throat.
Considering Jeremy had slept like the dead for nearly twelve hours, he suspected there was more in the strangely sweet mixture than the physician had revealed.
“Ye dare to ask me that?” Jeremy croaked, his throat on fire.
Beatrice at least had the decency to look ashamed. “I thought she’d harmed ye. I heard what happened and I… went mad.” She shook her head. “I couldnae bear the thought of losin’ another part of me husband, and I… jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t make this any better,” he remarked. “Ye’ve made me wife feel so unwelcome that she doesn’t want to be in the home she loves so much. Did ye not stop to think that ye should probably wait for me to wake up before ye started throwing out accusations?”
Beatrice set down the tray. “I didnae ken that ye were going to wake up.” There was a sudden bite in her voice. “Even ye have to admit that, in me position, it seemed suspicious.”
“Suspicious or not, ye should have waited,” he replied.
“How do ye ken that she didnae do something to ye, eh?” Beatrice challenged, apparently less remorseful than she had wanted him to believe. “There was nothin’ wrong with yer throat before the weddin’, but then ye suddenly have blisters in it?”
He glared at her, his jaw clenched. “Get out.”
“Nay, I willnae. The physician didnae give any explanation, nae really. He said ye had a quinsy of the throat and that was that.” She stubbornly crossed her arms. “And, aye, he also said that the previous duke had a weak heart. What if he was wrong? What if that lass did do somethin’ to the both of ye? ”
“She did not,” he replied venomously, believing that with every fiber of his being. “If ye’d bothered to get to know her instead of speaking to her like she was something nasty on yer boot, ye’d know that too.”
Beatrice blinked. “I havenae spoken to her like that.”
“Aye, ye have, and ye still are.” Jeremy shook his head, too infuriated to have her in the room a moment longer. “Get out. I won’t ask ye again.”
“Nay, because I think ye’re bein’ a fool. I think yer judgment is clouded because ye have a… lust for her,” Beatrice shot back.
At that, Jeremy threw back the coverlets and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Taking a second to catch his still-compromised breath, he lurched to his feet and walked straight out of the room.
He was in no mood to argue or discuss the possible crimes of an innocent woman, so if Beatrice wouldn’t leave, then he would.
“Where are ye goin’?” Beatrice called after him, her footsteps in pursuit.
“Away from ye, before I say something I might regret,” he shouted back.
He felt bad enough without adding being viciously unkind to his dead brother’s wife to the list. It was better for both of them if they stayed away from each other for a while; the irony wasn’t lost on him.
Breaking through the curtain that still hung over the entrance to Anna’s territory, he came to an abrupt halt. Katherine and her brother were just ahead and seemed to be in the midst of a fervent argument. Rather, they were, until Jeremy had interrupted with his presence.
Just the person I hoped to see… and the one I did not.
He had learned that Mr. Miller had intervened and encouraged Anna to venture to London, and had prepared the carriage that had taken her there.
Of course, Jeremy couldn’t actually blame the man for mediating the situation before it turned uglier, but that didn’t mean he was happy about what he had done.
“Miss Miller, might I have a word?” Jeremy said.
Katherine took a deep breath, some furious fire still flashing in her eyes. “Of course, Your Grace.”
All too familiar with sibling squabbles and saddened to think he would never argue with his brother again, Jeremy gently took Katherine to the other side of the landing.
“I have a favor to ask,” he began.
The maid had her head bowed, unable to look him in the eyes. “What favor, Your Grace?”
“I hoped ye might agree to go to Anna, and convince her to come back,” he replied. “Ye can borrow the carriage.”
Katherine fidgeted with the cuff of her sleeve, her chin apparently glued to her chest. “I... I don’t know that I’d be able to make much difference, Your Grace.
And, with respect, I don’t know that she should return yet.
” She paused, as if uncertain whether to continue.
“The servants are still talking about her very cruelly. Yours, mostly.”
Anger prickled across Jeremy’s aching chest. “If I contend with that, will ye go to her?”
The maid hesitated. “I think you should go to her.” She spoke so quietly that it was almost impossible to hear her. “Indeed, I think that would be for the best. You can make her return; I cannot.”
“Ye’re refusing me request?” Jeremy said coolly.
At last, she lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears that hadn’t yet spilled. “I want her to be safe, Your Grace. She means everything to me. But I… can’t go to London.” She dropped her gaze again. “It has to be you.”
Frustrated though he was, he sensed there was something more to Katherine’s refusal than it seemed. The girl was nervous, her hands trembling, and he could tell it was taking a lot of courage for her to say ‘no’ to him. What he didn’t understand was why.
“Very well,” he grumbled. “I’ll resolve the mutiny here, and then we shall both go to London. Let’s hope that when we get there, she’s ready to come back to us.”
She didn’t appear to like that any more than his initial request, but he noted the small nod of her head.
Expelling a great sigh as a cough bubbled up the back of his throat, Jeremy turned his attention to the butler. “Did she reach the townhouse safely? Ye went with her, didn’t ye?”
“I didn’t, Your Grace,” Mr. Miller replied. “I merely put her in the carriage. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to travel with her.”
Irritation prickled in Jeremy’s eyes, while worry pinched at his recovering heart. “So, nay one knows if she made it there?”
“The driver returned in the early hours of this morning, while you were sleeping soundly,” Mr. Miller replied with thinly veiled contempt. “He left her where she would be safe. No harm has come to her.”
Jeremy thought about explaining that it hadn’t been his choice to sleep so deeply, but what reason did he have to explain himself to the butler?
Indeed, the only reason Mr. Miller was still at Stonebridge at all was that Anna seemed to care for the two siblings.
Jeremy didn’t want to do anything that might lessen the chance of her coming home.
“I expect ye both in the ballroom in half an hour,” he commanded. “Tell the rest of the staff.”
The butler bowed his head. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Holding back the cough that threatened to rattle his chest, lest it make him appear weak, Jeremy headed down the stairs and out into the late morning air.
He went straight to the cedar tree where he had once annoyed Anna so much and moved around to the other side of the thick trunk. Only then did he finally cough, spluttering as his chest burned, wondering if there was any truth to what Beatrice had said after all.
This didn’t feel like something natural, some simple quinsy of the throat, but nor did he believe that Anna had harmed him.
But who else would wish me gone?
His gaze turned toward the hills in the distance, the slopes that still reminded him abstractly of his wife’s breasts, and glowered at the smudge of a building burrowed in between.
Perhaps, Colin’s declaration on the terrace hadn’t been what he claimed it was.
Perhaps, he hadn’t wanted Anna to be ruined by scandal because he’d wanted her for himself.
All the dancing, the smiling, the games, the flirtations. The man hadn’t made much of a secret of his liking for Anna. Goodness, how many times had Colin said outright that he would marry her?
Moreover, Colin was in the room when Jeremy woke up, no doubt to keep a close eye on the situation. Maybe to see if there was an opportunity to finish what he had started.
A memory flashed into Jeremy’s mind of a glass of whiskey, just before he chased Anna out of the drawing room. Colin had brought it to him. It was Colin he had been talking to right before he went upstairs to see if Anna was all right… and to find out how much she still hated him.
And I downed the entire glass.