Page 67 of Harry

“I have to walk this off, Madelyn. I will be fine.” She assured the woman.

“My dear…”

“No. Go back to your guests. I am fine.” Before the woman could protest further, she walked out and went to find Rosie to get her coat.

Pressing her lips together, Madelyn made her excuses to her friends and went in search of her wayward son. Men! She thought in disgust as she headed towards the library where one of the maids informed her they were.

She had seen the struggle on Janelle’s face to hide her feelings, but she knew the girl was hurting. Harry had all but ignored her. And now she was walking home in this weather.

Pushing the doors open, she took in the scene and compressed her lips. Gayla was sitting on the edge of the desk, one elegantly shod leg swinging and Harry was sitting behind the desk, a drink in his hand.

“Mother. Everything all right?”

“My dear, could you give me a minute with my son?”

Gayla looked like she was about to protest but thought better of it and flounced from the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“You mean other than the fact that you left Janelle alone?”

His mouth tightened. “I left her with you and Ian and Lillian. I was on my way back. No need to scold me.”

“She left.”

“What?”

“Janelle is right now walking back to the pool house. I tried to get her to go upstairs and utilize one of the bedrooms, because she said she was feeling tired…”

“When?” He pushed out of the chair.

“A few minutes ago.”

“And you let her?” Slamming the glass down, he headed for the doors.

“I couldn’t very well stop her.” She followed him out. “I cannot really blame her either, you have been attached to Gayla like a magnet.”

“Bloody hell.” He muttered. “Make my excuses, will you? That bloody fool.”

The forecast had been right. She was halfway to the pool house when she felt the first flakes. And it would have been a thing of joy and wonder to her, if her heart did not feel like stone.

She should not have left. Should not have slunk off like some coward. She had a right to him. She was the woman carrying his babies, the one he slept with, the damn one he was always saying how much he loved, unless he was lying.

How dare he left her like that! Humiliate her like that because of that – that Irish bitch with her flaming red hair and emerald, green eyes and perfect skin and body. Well to hell with him! Ignoring the snow that was now coming down hard, she blinked back the tears.

He was not worth her getting herself into a lather. Stomping up the steps, she headed towards the bedroom, with Shep who had abandoned his comfortable sleeping bed as soon as she walked in and was following behind her.

“If you’re looking for your treacherous master, he’s cozied up with some red-haired bimbo from his past.” Plopping onto the love seat, she sat there staring into the fire and absently rubbed the dog’s soft fur.

She became aware of the throbbing of her ankles and remembered she still had her boots on.

She was taking them off and wriggling her toes and that was how he saw her. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he watched as she peeled her stockings off and rubbed her ankles. Even from where he was, he could see they were swollen.

She looked up as if sensing his presence and her expression rivaled the weather outside. He did not let that stop him from walking into the room.

“Go to bed, Shep.” He shooed the dog out and sat next to her. “That was a bloody stupid thing to do.”

“Why are you not with your girlfriend?”

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