Page 13 of Lady Constantine & the Sins of Lord Kilgore
The man’s head jerked suddenly to the left, sending a mop of brown hair over one eye, which was covered with a patch, but the other eye, a lovely blue one, he narrowed upon her. “What h-happened to Cal?” he thundered.
“He fainted at the church, White,” Peter replied in a no-nonsense tone. “Considering how sick he is,” the boy continued, “I’m amazed he stayed upright as long as he did. Has the doctor arrived?”
“Aye,” White said. “He’s upstairs in the bedchamber readying things.”
“Doctor? What doctor? What do you mean Callum is sick?” Constantine filled with worry. He had to be awfully ill to have known in advance he’d need a doctor when he returned home.
“Step aside, White,” Peter said, seemingly ignoring her question, which irked her. “Cal is heavy.”
“You’re Mr. Black. He’s Mr. White,” Constantine muttered as Mr. White moved out of the doorway. “I suppose the physician is Mr. Gray?” she added sourly.
Peter laughed as he maneuvered around her and through the door. As Carrington passed, he raised his eyebrows at her. She shrugged in response. She had no answers, either.
“Of course not,” Peter said from inside of the townhome.
“Peter!” Constantine said sharply. She would have rushed after him, but Mr. White had rudely moved to block her entrance once more. “How sick is Callum?”
“He’ll live,” Peter called out as he, Carrington, and Callum disappeared from sight. Constantine felt her shoulders drop with relief.
Lady Frederica, her dearest friend, came up beside Constantine and slipped her arm through Constantine’s. “Come,” Frederica said, shooting Mr. White a fierce look to move out of the way. “Whatever awaits you inside, I’m here for you.”
Constantine started to nod, but the sound of carriage wheels behind her made her turn. Her mouth fell open as her mother’s carriage came to a halt. She’d told her mother to go to her own home, but clearly Constantine had not been forceful enough. Honestly, the last thing she needed at the moment was her mother’s drama, and Constantine was so vexed with her mother for the lies she’d told Callum that Constantine feared she would say things that could not be taken back. Things that would sever all ties between them. And though what her mother had done was despicable, Constantine knew it had been some misguided effort to protect Constantine from Callum.
Her mother descended the carriage, her eyes widening. “Who is that pirate?”
Her nerves felt stretched to a breaking point. “That is Mr. White.” She looked over her shoulder at him.
“I’m j-just White.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, but she did know what to say to her mother. “I told you to go toyourhome.”
“I knew you would need me,” her mother said. “And I was correct! Just look at the barbarian in your doorway!”
Frederica’s arm tightened around Constantine’s. Her friend knew how difficult Constantine’s mother could be. Constantine was just appreciative that Frederica had not given her mother a piece of her mind. Frederica was not known for her diplomatic nature or the ability to keep her opinions to herself.
“White is neither a barbarian nor a pirate,” Constantine said. “He’s—” She bit her lip and stared at him, waiting for him to tell them all who exactly he was.
“I’m the b-butler of the house, and ye’re Cal’s wife, I presume,” he finished, his head twitching to the left with each word he spoke.
Well that certainly explained White having on Mr. Northcutt’s livery, though it explained nothing else, such as whereherbutler was or her footmen for that matter. “The butler?” she asked, confused. “Where are my servants?”
“Cal let them go when we c-came here before he raced off to the church to stop ye from committing a crime by wedding his cousin,” the man said, his tone and look letting her know he disapproved of what she had done.
She pressed her fingertips to her pounding temples, giving a fleeting thought to Ross, whom she’d left protesting her departure in the church. She needed to deal with him, but first she needed to ascertain the truth. “I thought Callum was dead,” she said in explanation, though it was obvious that White still disapproved of her choice, which in this particular moment was making her face flame with guilt.
“Kilgore is mad!” her mother wailed, making Constantine grit her teeth and Frederica sigh.
“He is not mad,” Constantine said with more assurance than she felt. He might be mad, after all. He had tried to kill Ross at the church and made some wild accusations that did make him sound insane.
“I think we need spirits,” Frederica announced as only she would. While Constantine’s shield against the world was reservation and withdrawal, Frederica’s was being outrageously outspoken and boisterous. She had practically demanded Constantine befriend her over a year ago, after Guinevere, who was Frederica’s elder sister, had invited Constantine to join a secret society of which both ladies were members. Constantine half suspected Frederica had insisted on accompanying her home today, not only as a friend but on official Society of Ladies Against Rogues duty. SLAR strove to help women in danger from disreputable men, and Callum had certainly been that in his lifetime. For all Constantine knew, she could also be in imminent danger.
“My Constantine does not imbibe. Though I’m certain that scoundrel Kilgore must!” Constantine’s mother said, which was just the sharp reminder Constantine needed to stay focused and send her mother home. Whatever occurred here today would only be made worse by her mother’s wailing in Constantine’s ear.
She turned to her mother and locked gazes with her. Her mother looked tired—no doubt the lies she’d told plagued her and made her unable to sleep. “Please return home as I asked you to, and we will speak about the terrible things you did later,” she said bluntly, too tired to coat her words in niceties.
Her mother’s mouth slipped open, and then a flush covered her face. “I did them for you!” her mother protested.
“I know you think you did, but you lied! You deceived Callum and me. You should have let me choose instead of going behind my back, instead of sending him away with lies and letting me think for all these years that he never even came that night.” Her heart thundered in her chest as she stared at her mother.
