Page 50 of Harpy of the Ton
This was reality, from which there was no escape.
Chapter Seventeen
The look onLady Arabella’s face was almost reward enough to atone for her sins.
Almost.
A wicked little voice in Lawrence’s mind had whispered of the pleasure from seeing Miss High-and-Mighty curtsey before a country squire. But that pleasure had been surpassed, first by the disgust in her eyes when she caught sight of Ivy Cottage, then by the unbridled horror as she set eyes on the children.
Then the guilt that had lingered in the back of his mind came to the fore when that horror turned into distress. During their prior altercations, her emotions had been limited to anger and pride. But now, lying in a heap on the floor of a house she’d not deem fit to stable a horse in, let alone be mistress of, her pride surrendered to misery.
The children stared first at her, then at him. They’d played their parts with aplomb—perhaps too well. But children could not be blamed for the consequences of their actions, not when they’d done what he asked—treat the stranger he brought home as their mother.
He extended his hand to her, but she slapped it away and scrambled to her feet.
“I can help myself,” she snarled.
“Excellent,” he replied. “Then you’re best starting in here.”
He led her into the kitchen, suppressing a laugh as she let out another cry of disgust.
“Here is your realm,” he said. “You’ll have it tidied up in no time. I’ll bring something tomorrow for you to cook—how about a bit of scrag end?”
The panic returned to her eyes. “Icook?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying, Bella.”
“What do I cook with?”
He gestured toward the iron range beside the window. “With that.”
She approached the range almost tentatively, as if approaching a nest of vipers. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s a little dirty, I’ll admit,” he said, “but that’s how we got this place so, cheap seein’ as it’s not been taken care of. You’ll have it shining in no time once you’ve cleaned it up.”
“I-I clean as well?” She teetered on her feet, and he caught her arm.
“Steady, love, we’ll have none of that. You’ll not be able to do your chores if you can’t stand upright.”
She wrinkled her nose again at the mention of chores—oh, how he loved that word!
“You needn’t look worried,” he said. “We’ll help, won’t we, children?”
“Yes, Papa,” the children chorused.
“I’m not one of those husbands who expects his wife to do everything. You’ll not be expected to clean the children’s room—they’re old enough to look after that themselves.” He nodded. “See how generous I can be?”
He fought the urge to laugh at the expression on her face.
“Let’s show you upstairs—with luck, that’ll help you remember.”
“That’san element of luck I can do without,” she said.
“Oh, how you amuse!” He chuckled. “What do you think, children? Isn’t Mama amusing?”
“May we go outside, now?” William asked. “We want to play in our den.”
“Run along, then.”
