Page 98 of The Defiant One
The truth hit him.
Andrew de Montforte's potion had cost him not only Miss Sarah — but every heiress in the country. Andrew's potion had cost him his place in Society, his friends, his honor and his respect. Andrew's potion had cost him not only his present — but his future.
Lord Andrew de Montforte had ruined his life.
Fearing her wrath if he didn't warn her, Gerald sent a note off to Eva and returned to his rented rooms only long enough to retrieve his pistol and ammunition.
By midnight, he was galloping west towards Rosebriar . . .
And revenge.
~~~~
Celsie awoke sometime just after dawn.
The room was gray. In the distance a long, low rumble heralded an approaching thunderstorm. How strange, she thought, for late autumn. She sighed and reached for her husband. The bed was empty save for Freckles, sprawled across her legs.
She sat up. "Andrew?"
Blinking, she looked around the room. A single chrysanthemum stood in a glass decanter by the bed, a note tucked beside it.
"Dearest heart. I love you more than half. I love you more than whole. I love you with everything I am, which is why you have woken to find yourself alone — I am wide-awake and could not bear to trouble your sweet slumbers with my restlessness. I am off to inspect and set up my delightful new laboratory. Will you meet me for breakfast at nine? I am hungry for far more than just tea and toast . . ."
Your adoring husband,
Andrew
Celsie smiled and held the note to her heart. Well, she was hungry for far more than just tea and toast, too! Her first thought was to go to the laboratory and help him set it up . . . or simply seduce him into an early breakfast. But even an adoring husband needed a little time to himself — not only to adjust to the sudden institution of marriage, but to find a sense of familiarity in the things that made up his working world. Let him play in his new laboratory. She could wait an hour or so for breakfast.
She went about her morning toilette, dressed in a riding habit of dark plum wool, and pinning a smart round hat to her upswept hair, called for Freckles, who jumped down from the bed and trotted stiffly to the door. There he stood, tail wagging, his cloudy old eyes watching her expectantly.
"I know. I'm getting far too lazy, being a married woman, aren't I, Freck?"
She bent down to hug him, but he was impatient; he needed to go out.
Outside, the morning was still and grey and unseasonably warm, with low, fast-moving clouds filing in from the west. There was rain in the air. An expectant hush. No birds were singing, and a light breeze was already moving ominously over the grasses. Yes, it would rain soon, and even as she watched Freckles trot off over the heath, still a bird dog despite his aging body and senses, she heard again the low, distant rumble of thunder.
Leaving Freckles to his business, Celsie headed down the hill towards the kennels. How she had missed her dogs! There was Tipper, short, scruffy, and loveable, tail wagging as she ran out of her indoor area in greeting; there was Molly, barking in excitement as she spotted Celsie; and there — what was he doing here? — was Gerald.
He had been leaning against the old oak that in summertime shaded the outdoor runs, arms folded, obviously waiting for someone.
Her.
"Gerald?"
He smiled and straightened. "Good morning, Celsie. You're late for your morning doggie visit. New husband replaced them in your affections already?"
She stilled, not liking his tone of voice, not liking his unkempt, unshaved appearance, not liking the way he was looking at her with that ugly, angry light in his eye. She saw an empty wine bottle on the grass near his feet. Again, the thunder rumbled, far away still, but getting closer.
Celsie drew herself up to her full height. "I thought I asked you to leave."
"You did." He was no longer smiling, and his bloodshot eyes were hard and glittering. As he uncrossed his arms, she saw that he was holding a pistol. "But I have no where else to go, you see, thanks to your husband."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, nervously eyeing the gun.
"Oh, Celsie. Why lie to me? Surely you knew he sabotaged the aphrodisiac. Surely you knew that the solution Eva stole was not the same stuff that caused you to attack your eccentric young inventor like a bitch in heat."
"So you did have a part in the robbery, then!"
