Page 63 of Mending the Baron's Sins
She was still not satisfied, but she slumped back in her chair and nodded slowly.
“I am so sorry you are in such pain, and it has come to this with your husband. Truly.”
“It does not matter.” She shook her head. “I was the fool who was confident I would be happy with him. I think I thought more of his money and his position than anything else.”
Her words conjured an image in his mind. Horace thought of all the ladies he had spent time with over the years. They’d had dowries, connections, and position, yet not one of them had ignited the same thing in him as Orla had done, and she had none of those things.
“Come, let’s go to breakfast,” he pleaded, urging his sister to his feet. He pulled on a waistcoat and tailcoat, glancing back at the bed before he left the room and thinking of what he and Orla had shared in that bed the night before.
After their pleasure, they had remained in one another’s arms, kissing, embracing, and whispering things to one another, before drifting off to sleep.
***
Breakfast was a quiet one. The thought of Lavinia’s husband weighed heavily on Horace’s mind as he stared at his plate and struggled to eat. Adam seemed equally perturbed sat to his left, struggling to make conversation. Lavinia, who had long since dried her tears, and was back to the perfect illusion of happiness, cleared her throat, in the plain intention of starting a conversation.
“Adam, there is something we wish to talk to you about,” she said slowly. “You already do such fantastic work with the tenantsat Ingelby, and caring for the hall, we wondered if you would do it for a longer term–”
“Lavinia.” Horace sat forward, shocked at her words. Yes, he was in pain for his sister, yes, he worried about her, but he was certainly not going to be moved around like her Bartholomew doll, to the place in the world where she wanted him to be.
“What is this?” Adam glanced at Horace. “You’re moving.”
“No,” Horace said shortly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“The healing powers of Bath would do wonders for you,” Lavinia pleaded once again.
Horace wondered when she would shift from talking about Bath to London. She supposed she looked for his agreement for Bath, hoping it would heal him a little, before she moved him to London to be near her.
“That is by the by,” Horace said hurriedly. “Adam, I am not going anywhere.”
Adam nodded, but looked just as uneasy as he had done a few seconds ago.
“Excuse me, my Lord.” The butler made an appearance in the doorway.
“Yes?” Horace called, glad to have the distraction.
“There is a man here to see you. A stranger… he is quite insistent on seeing you.”
“Honestly,” Lavinia huffed. “It is breakfast. A gentleman does not host a visitor at breakfast.”
“He says it is urgent.” The butler looked as ruffled as Lavinia did, and Horace rather suspected he had been backed into a corner by their visitor.
“Very well,” Horace said and waved at the butler for him to show the visitor in.
“Horace!” Lavinia cried in alarm.
“Might as well get this over and done with and find out who our visitor is.” He shrugged.
A second later, a tall and hook-nosed man stepped in. He took off his top hat, which he did not give to the butler even when it was offered. The stranger bowed with politeness. He wasreasonably well dressed, certainly not as wealthy as those sat at the table, but he plainly had some money to his name.
“Forgive my intrusion, my Lord.” The man stood straight from his bow. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Frederick Baker.”
Horace could have fallen out of his chair in shock.
This was the man Orla was to marry?
At once, Horace knew the man before her was not good enough for Orla. He spoke sharply and coolly. He had nothing like the heat or warmth in him that had been between Horace and Orla last night. There was a flash in Horace’s mind, and he saw Orla beneath him, sighing with her passion, her hands tangling in his hair as she moaned his name.
He will not take her away.
