Page 72 of Wickedly Yours
Damn.Rowan didn’t need to see the coat of arms on the door to know who was probably sitting in the small parlor sipping his scotch.
Hind’s eyes widened as the crest came into view. “I believe I’ll pass on your offer of the drink my lord, as it appears you’ve a visitor.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow as we start the survey.” Rowan shook his hand and watched Hind walk off in the direction of the boarding house. Nodding to the footmen and driver he entered the cottage, irritated at the invasion of Surrey by the Duke of Dunbar.
His Grace sat in the parlor, his overlarge form massive in the tiny space. A chair groaned beneath his big frame. A glass of scotch dangled from one hand as if he’d nothing better to do than come to Surrey to interrogate Rowan.
“Your Grace.” Rowan greeted his brother-in-law. He had no desire to discuss Arabella with Nick.
His Grace raised a brow at his tone. “I helped myself. I didn’t think you’d mind. The chair, however, is not happy with my presence. It’s quite ancient. I’m sure the legs are about to give at any time.”
“I didn’t realize you were coming to visit, Your Grace. I can give you a tour of the land if you wish, but the survey has not been completed.”
“Nick.” He frowned. “You are a member of my family and I’ve given you leave to use my Christian name several times. I may be a duke but I’m feeling rather ‘your graced’ to death as of late.” His mismatched eyes held a speculative look. “And I’m not here to view our investment, as well you know.”
“Here to meddle then?” The Duke of Dunbar was known to arrange people and events to his satisfaction. The habit was incredibly annoying.
“I do not meddle.” He sounded offended.
A small bark of laughter left Rowan. “Jemma compares you to an elderly matron of thetonwith your machinations.”
A pained look crossed the duke’s face. “She has confessed everything to me, Malden. I wish she had done so at the first. I underestimated the extent of my sister’s anger which was more directed at me than anyone. Bella is very complicated, which of course, doesn’t excuse her behavior.”
“No, it does not,” Rowan said in a quiet voice. “She should have toldme.”
“Given your dislike of her at the time, she felt certain you would leave her to Corbett.” A growl came from Nick.
“I never disliked her.” Rowan wasn’t afraid of the man before him, even though nearly everyone else in London was. “I’ve always wanted her.” He gave the duke a hard look. “Does that surprise you? But she should have told me instead of allowing herself to be blackmailed and leaving me to feel the fool.”
“Is that why you left? Because you feel foolish?”
“I needed a moment to think. I cannot be objective in London.”
“What will you do?” The chair creaked loudly as Nick tried to get more comfortable.
Rowan walked to the sideboard and poured a large scotch. He took a sip before replying. “I plan to renovate the mills while the rail is being laid.” He’d been pondering that very thing. Whatwouldhe do about Arabella?
“Am I sending her back to Wales or to the Continent? If she is to go to the Continent the preference is Italy, though I’m not sure why. She’s never particularly cared for the Italians, but she has expressed a desire to paint.”
“Neither.” Rowan’s heart thudded dully. “And she lacks the patience to study painting.” He didn’t care for the thought of Arabella being so far from him. Hell, Surrey was too far.
“Will you seek a divorce? Or an annulment? You can claim she married you under false pretenses.” The larger man shifted again, and his lips grew tight. “I will not stand in your way nor claim displeasure. I suppose I could send her to Scotland. A convent stands on my holdings there.”
Rowan snorted. “She’d be terrorizing the nuns within a week. Even I would not punish innocents in such a way. I appreciate your counsel however unnecessary it is.” He’d never truly considered a more permanent solution to his estrangement from Arabella. The thought of divorcing or annulling his marriage in spite of the ugly words he’d hurled at her, was inconceivable. He’d come to that conclusion a week after he left London.
“My sister is an awful person.”
“She isn’t,” Rowan murmured. “Or at the very least, she isn’t anymore. And she’smywife. If anyone knows what Arabella is, it is me. I will decide her fate, not you, Your Grace.”
If Nick was shocked by his words, he gave no indication. He nodded and stood, an oddly sympathetic look on his face. “I’ll see myself out, Rowan.”
“Safe journey back to London, Nick. Give my love to Jemma.” He said the last over his shoulder at he moved back to the sideboard to refill his glass. He watched through the parlor window, as the Duke of Dunbar’s coach pulled away. The argument between his head and his heart battled inside him.
He would leave for London the day after tomorrow.
41
“Dear God, I never pictured you moping about looking as if you would perish from despair.”
