Page 69 of Tall, Dark & Wicked
Petra wanted to scream. “I’m not going to marry Dunning, Mother. Or anyone, unless I wish to.”
Mother’s face puffed up like an overstuffed squirrel. “Your father and I will cut you off. I won’t receive you.”
A bitter laugh came from her. “I thought you wished to punish me? I’ll live with Rowan and Arabella. Or perhaps Jemma.”
“My lady,” Tessie said in a quiet voice.
Petra had almost forgotten the maid was in the room. Mother and her anguish took all of Petra’s attention.
“I beg your pardon.” Tessie dipped into a curtsy as she nimbly side-stepped Mother to make her way to Petra. “I don’t wish to interrupt your discussion with Lady Marsh.” She held up the square of paper.
“Tessie!” Mother popped off the bed with a squeak. “I insist you give that to me immediately.” Her hand shot out in a futile grab for the note Tessie held.
Petra blinked back the wetness gathering behind her eyes, trying to keep from collapsing into a fit of tears. The last twenty-four hours had seen her ravished and abandoned by the man she loved. She’d been called a harlot and a strumpet more than once. Threatened with a blackening of her reputation and now treated to a display of dramatics by her manipulative Mother. Petra wanted nothing more than to once more be beneath the oak tree within the circle of Brendan’s arms.
‘You will appreciate fossils much more than I’
Petra took the note from Tessie’s hand, struggling to keep her hand from shaking. Hope bloomed inside her heart.
“Lord Morwick said I was to hand this to you and only you, my lady.” She shot Lady Marsh a look of remorse. “I’m sorry, my lady. But he made me give my word.”
Mother tried once again to snatch the note away.
“Thank you, Tessie,” she said, taking the note. Perhaps it was only an apology. A goodbye note. How would she endure the journey back to London with Mother? “Tessie, will you finish the packing and find a footman to have my trunks taken down?”
The maid bobbed and left.
Petra’s name was scrawled across the top in a bold, masculine hand. Unfolding the paper, she read the words, then read them again, before refolding the note and putting it in the pocket of her dress.
“Well,” Mother looked satisfied. Smug, even. “Let us get on the way to London. We can discuss Dunning on the way home.”
Petra bit her lip to keep from shouting with joy. “We aren’t going to London, Mother,” she explained with great satisfaction. “At least, not immediately. We have a stop to make.”
A tic appeared in Mother’s cheek. She must have understood Petra’s meaning. “Absolutely not. I forbid it.”
“Mother, I don’t wish you to have a fit of apoplexy. I would be most distressed.” Petra’s fingers ran over the note in her pocket as happiness made her lightheaded.
‘Your choices are your own, Petra. I would have you decide your life, not I or Simon and especially not Lady Marsh. Should you choose not to return to London, I will wait for you. I won’t let go. Ever.’
31
Petra tapped her foot with impatience.
“Mother, do hurry along.”
The footmen had already loaded her trunks on the smaller of the two coaches, the one Agnes and Tessie had traveled to Brushbriar in. Mother would return to London in Father’s more comfortable coach. She’d opted not to stop at Somerton with her daughter.
“Jenkins,” Mother commanded, shooting Petra a self-assured smile. “Please place my daughter in the Marsh coach.” Mother tugged at her gloves not looking at Petra. “Restrain her if necessary.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” Was there no end to her mother’s need to control her life? “Jenkins, don’t you dare.”
Jenkins, bless him, bowed deeply to Mother. “I beg your pardon, Lady Marsh, but I will not put my hands on the daughter of an earl. Lord Marsh would have my head.”
“Jenkins. I insist.” Her mother stamped her foot, becoming agitated. “You must do it. You must.”
Petra stepped forward. “Mother, stop. I’m not going back to London with you.” She hugged her mother’s plump form. “I love you, Mother. I do. But you will not dictate my life any longer.”
“Petra.” Mother tried to take her hand. “My baby,” she sobbed, “please don’t do this. You must come back to London with me. Don’t go to him.” Her head shook. “He’s wrong for you.”
