Page 67 of Tall, Dark & Wicked
“I see.” Petra blinked, unwilling to have Woods see how upset she was. Perhaps Morwick had wished her to be discovered, though she hadn’t considered he’d be so thoughtless.
Woods opened the door, his head turning as he looked both ways. “Go directly to your room, my lady, and I will handle Lady Marsh.” He waved her forward.
“Thank you, Woods.” Petra stepped over her mother, praying no one else would see her, and ran down the hall.
30
“My lord, may I come in?”
Petra stood, hands clasped lightly in front of her, awaiting permission to enter Simon’s private domain. The study was filled with heavy, masculine furniture with thick drapes the color of claret hanging from the windows. A massive oak desk sat facing the door from which the master of Brushbriar, surrounded by stacks of paper, was working. Her stomach lurched in a sickening manner at the confrontation before her.
“Of course.” Simon didn’t look up. “Shut the door.”
His two spaniels sat at attention, watching Petra with suspicion as she approached the desk. Several moments passed as Simon scratched away at something, ignoring her.
“My lord,” she said. While she attempted to sound calm, her anxiety threatened to overwhelm her.
“Almost forgot you were there. You were so quiet andunassuming.” Simon sat back clasping his hands over his chest. The dark eyes held nothing but contempt.
He knew. Petra swayed a little at the realization. She’d hoped to explain…well, what could she say? If Mrs. Leonard told Agnes, it was likely the housekeeper had told the entire staff before Petra even opened her eyes this morning.
She lifted her chin, determined to brazen it out. “We do not suit, my lord—”
“A gross understatement. Had I known what low morals you possessed, I wouldn’t have ever spoken to you, let alone offered you marriage. Cuckolding me in my own home during a house party given inyourhonor.” A sneer crossed his lips.
“I was hoping I could speak to you before…I wanted to be the one to tell you. It was not done to shame you, my lord, nor to hurt you in any way.”
A puff came out of his mouth, the ugly sound lingering in the quiet of his study. “Is that supposed to make me feel better, Petra? Am I to nod, pretending I understand, and absolve you of your behavior? Perish the thought.”
Simon was right. Had she assumed he’d be thrilled to have her ruined? “I am sorry my behavior hurt you—”
“Hurt me?” An ugly laugh sounded as his features filled with contempt. “Can you imagine the lengths I’ve gone to this morning to ensure the rest of our guests don’t know of your transgression?”
Petra looked away and pressed her eyes closed for a moment, trying to compose herself. His distaste for her was justified, she knew. “Simon—”
“Lord Pendleton. You are never to address me by my Christian name again.”
Her head snapped back to face him. Fine. Let him hate her. He need only release her from the betrothal. “Given the circumstances, I ask most humbly that you release my father and myself from our betrothal agreement. I hope that we can…keep this incident to ourselves, my lord.”
“I release you.” The words left his mouth in a hiss. “I have this morning penned a letter to your father’s solicitor and mine. A messenger is already on his way to London. Your dowry will be returned to you. Our unfortunate association is at an end. I would no more marry you than a common harlot.”
A whoosh of relief left her, even though she strongly disagreed with being compared to a lightskirt. “Thank you, Simon. I am sorry—”
“No, you aren’t.” He pushed back from the desk and walked toward her. “If you had any scruples at all, you wouldn’t have done such a thing. I bid you good day.”
She swallowed, knowing he might very well ask her to be removed from his study should she continue. “I know I’ve no right to ask, but I would appreciate your discretion. I know under the circumstances you may not feel charitable. But for the sake of my family in London—”
A flush stole up Simon’s cheeks as a black, murderous rage filled his dark eyes.
Petra stepped back from him, afraid for a moment he meant to do her harm.
“You’ve nothing to fear, Petra. Not a whiff of this…unfortunate incident will follow you to London. Neither my mother nor sister will breathe a word of the reason for the…dissolutionof our betrothal. Nor the staff. The guests will be told you were called back to London unexpectedly.”
“How kind of you.” Given his dislike of her, why would he do such a thing? “I am deeply appreciative of your concern for my reputation.”
“I didn’t do it foryou, Petra. Perish the thought.” A vein bulged in his temple. “I’ve no wish to have my name linked with a woman of your ilk. I have a brilliant career ahead of me and my own reputation to protect.”
“Of course. Whatever your reason, I am grateful.” She’d been preparing herself since leaving Morwick’s room for her potential disgrace and future as a pariah. It was almost surreal he didn’t mean to punish her in such a way.
