Page 75 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
Clayton swallowed, eyes widening.
“I don’t have to listen to this,” he snarled, turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Neil heard him break into a run, racing haphazardly down the stairs. He leaned back against the pillows, closing his eyes.
Only Aunt Thomasin was left. She’d sank onto a stool in the corner, hunched over. It took Neil a moment to understand that she was crying.
His mother took a step forward, her voice shaking.
“Thomasin?” she whispered. “Oh, Thomasin, tell me it isn’t true. You were like a sister to me.”
“I wasn’t, though, was I?” Thomasin hissed, suddenly angry. “We were neverMorendales. You were the Marchioness, and I was your poorer sister-in-law. We relied on you for everything, for all of our money. You can’t imagine how it was for us!”
Emma sat down with a thump, sucking in a breath. “Oh. Oh, Thomasin!”
“It was never meant to go this far,” Thomasin whispered.
“I think,” Neil heard himself say, as unconsciousness nibbled at the edges of his vision again, “that we should speak to the constable as soon as possible.”
