Page 66 of Tall, Dark & Wicked
Heart aching, Brendan crept silently from the bed and dressed. First, he needed to wake his mother and advise her to pack as quickly as possible for the return trip to Somerton. He wanted her waiting in the coach before he spoke to Simon and dared not tell her why they were leaving until they were home. Woods needed to be located immediately.
Brendan looked down at Petra, smiling at the tiny, ladylike snores she made. Pressing a kiss to her temple and pulling up the blanket around her shoulders, he quietly left the room. If all went well, he’d be gone before she awoke.
29
Petra awoke to the sound of her mother’s raised voice.
That in itself wasn’t terribly unusual. Her mother was prone to hysterics. On any given day one could hear Lady Marsh expressing her displeasure to a maid who hadn’t used enough beeswax on the floors downstairs. Or voicing her displeasure if her tea became tepid. Petra snuggled back under the covers.
Mother’s voice was coming closer. Becoming louder.
Petra’s eyes popped open. She wasn’t in her bedroom at the Marsh home in London. She sat up and the bedsheet fell away.
She was naked and also alone in the big bed. She turned and saw the indentation of Morwick’s head on the pillow next to her. The room outside the bed curtains was disturbingly quiet.
Bollocks.
“Brendan?” She took the sheet and pulled it up all the way to her chin. As she shifted on the bed, Petra winced. The soreness between her legs told her she was ruined. Ravished. She smiled to herself. Brendan had seen to that several times over.
She’d fallen asleep, despite her best intentions to slip back to her room before dawn. Why hadn’t he awoken her?
Bloody Hell.
Mother’s voice was growing louder. Footsteps sounded outside the door followed by the twisting of the doorknob.
Good Lord. Mother knows I’m in here.
The door flung open.
“Petra!” Her mother’s plump form appeared, clothed in lilac silk, her face mottled with horror and disapproval. The girlish ringlets at her temples quivered and a plump hand clutched at her throat. “What have you done?” Mother let out a long wail like the sound of a cat being choked. “Peeetraaa.” Then Mother fainted, collapsing into a clump of purple. She fell to the floor with a loud thump.
Petra stared at the unconscious form of her mother, wondering what she should do. It wasn’t unusual for Mother to dramatically faint, but typically one of the Marsh housemaids arrived immediately, armed with smelling salts when Mother was overcome. Petra wasn’t sure how to rouse a person without smelling salts. On the bright side, at least she need not delicately explain how she had come to be ruined and was now unable to marry Simon.
Unfortunately, now the entire household would know the culprit was Brendan.
She’d not meant to have her lack of virginity announced to all of Brushbriar and the guests of the house party in such a way, but possibly this was better, though she doubted Lady Pendleton would think so. Petra lifted her chin.
At least I’m not a party to murder.
Petra looked up as Woods, Morwick’s valet, appeared in the doorway. He took one look at her mother, stepped over her prone form and immediately shut the door.
“My lady.” He bowed. “May I offer you some assistance with your…” his brow furrowed as he looked down at Mother, “situation?”
Petra clutched the sheet tighter, horrified the valet had found her in Morwick’s room, though Woods seemed rather nonplussed at her appearance. “I would be in your debt, Mr. Woods.”
“We must get you back to your room before your mother awakens. If nothing else, it should keep her from screaming. Do you have something to wear?” His eyes scooted about the room and spying her discarded nightgown, rushed it to her. “Hurry, put this on. The other guests will soon be going down to breakfast.” He turned his back. “I beg you to hurry, my lady.”
Petra slid out of bed, her toes sinking into the plush carpet. She pulled the cream silk and lace over her shoulders, securely tying the ribbons into place. “How did my mother know I was here?” she said, more to herself than to Woods.
“I’m not certain, my lady.” Woods hesitated. “Though I did see Mrs. Leonard, Lord Pendleton’s housekeeper, speaking to your mother’s lady’s maid earlier.” His mouth curled. “That horrid, unpleasant woman. Annie. Annabel…”
“Agnes,” Petra informed him.Damn.“What will you do with her? Should I…help in some way?” Maybe, she thought looking at the mound of purple on the floor, she could convince Mother she’d hallucinated.
“I will give Lady Marsh some smelling salts and inform her I found her collapsed on the floor while I was packing Lord Morwick’s valise.”
“You’re packing his things?” A heavy weight pushed into Petra’s stomach at the news. She pressed against the spot, willing the disappointment to go away. She’d known, when she had made her way to Morwick’s room last night, that this could be a possible outcome.
The tips of the valet’s ears went pink and his mouth pulled in disapproval. “He has left Brushbriar, Lady Petra. As has Lady Cupps-Foster. Before breakfast was even served.”
