Page 4 of The Moonstone Marquess
“Well, this is not only about your nieces. You and the Duke of Malvern are best friends. He speaks of you in glowing terms. Yet here you come to Moonstone Landing, and the first thing you do is shame him with your inexcusable behavior. Why?”
He appeared hurt by the remark. “It is not that way at all.”
“Then kindly explain to me what you are doing, because I do not see a trace of valor in any of your actions.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” he admitted, the pain evident in his every word. “How much has Cain told you about me?”
“Mostly it is my sister, Henley, who spoke of the friendship between you and her husband. She told me of the difficulties you have had in adjusting to…to the loss of your arm. I am truly sorry for all you’ve had to endure. But it has been three years now, and it seems as though you are still angry and rebellious.”
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
“Now you are just getting defensive. Frankly, I do not care whether you want my opinion or not. I am speaking to you because I need to be certain your nieces will be safe with you. This assumes I will turn them over to you, which I won’t do while those friends of yours are in your home. Get rid of them first, or there will be nothing to discuss.”
“They are not friends.”
She put her hands on her hips to await an explanation, but he said nothing more, so she pressed on. “Then why did you invite them here?”
“It is none of your business. Cain will understand.”
“Well, he and Henley are in Bath at the moment. Apparently, Cain’s sister and her husband are joining them there, so they have taken the twins with them for the family reunion. I doubt they will be back before the end of the month. Something you would know if you opened any of your letters. I’m sure he left word for you, especially knowing you bought Squire Westgate’s home. We were all here when your furniture arrived earlier in the month.”
“So, not only are you a bossy bit of goods and opinionated, but you are a spy, too,” he said, sounding almost genial.
Did he really not mind that she had berated him?
She arched an eyebrow and cast him a wry grin. “Yes, indeed I am. Now aren’t you glad I turned you down?”
“Actually, Phoebe, not in the least.” He cast her a look that would have had her swooning if she ever dared lower her defenses around this man. “I—”
The sound of high-pitched giggles distracted them both.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the parlor windows of his home. Two of his female guests—two scantily clad female guests with their bosoms spilling out and leaving nothing to the imagination—were now peering out and calling to him suggestively.
Phoebe did not think of herself as one easily shocked, but this blatant displaydidshock her. “You are too much.”
She mounted her horse and rode off without looking back.
Tears filled her eyes, and she blamed it on the wind rather than dare admit this man had overset her. She had never met him before, but received such glowing accounts of him from Henley and Cain. Now that she had finally met him, he was nothing like the man she had expected.
How could he and Cain possibly be friends?
Cain was an excellent duke, a faithful husband and doting father to his twins, a son and a daughter. He was kind, compassionate, attentive to all who depended on him. The Marquess of Burness was a drunken, carousing wastrel.
Thoughtless and depraved.
Utterly lacking in morals.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with a rough brush of her arm across her cheeks.
The arm.
Yes, that was it.
Whatever good qualities this marquess once had were lost along with his arm. The man was now a shell of himself. Valor, duty, and sacrifice were replaced by anger, resentfulness, and bitter defiance.
Did he not understand he was hurting his loved ones as well as himself?
The ride back to Moonstone Cottage did not take her long, and she used the little time she had to restore her composure. She did not want his nieces to be further alarmed, which they would be if they saw her in tears.
