Page 82 of How to Cross a Marquess (The Way to a Lord's Heart 3)

Though he’d had the same thought, Roger wasn’t satisfied with this. But he didn’t want to probe farther for fear of hearing worrisome revelations. He longed to kiss her, but felt this might be the wrong moment. He was certain of his choice of wife. Did she feel the same?

* * *

Their scheme with Colonel Patterson was successful, and John came to stay at Chatton Castle when his father departed. But they were forced to accept Wrayle into their household along with the boy. Fenella saw it as a sort of punishment from her sister’s husband. Wrayle’s smirking presence was a constant reminder of Symmes’s disapproval. That did not mean that the valet would be allowed free rein, however. Fenella took the man aside before he had even unpacked and said, “If I find you’ve spoken inappropriately to any of the maids—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted. “You can’t send me away this time. I shall do as I please.” His arrogance was insupportable.

“I’ll order William to stay at your side,” Fenella replied. Another reason to be glad she’d been able to hire all the Fairclough servants who couldn’t find other positions when the house was closed up, she thought. With Roger’s mother in an establishment of her own, they’d needed additional help. “At all times,” she added. “It would be quite a tedious duty for him. And put him in a foul mood, I expect.” Actually, the tall footman enjoyed the role of protector. And he was itching for an excuse to floor Wrayle.

“I’ll appeal to Lord Chatton,” Wrayle sputtered.

Fenella shrugged.

The valet regained some of his sly insolence. “He won’t want the neighborhood to hear that he’s under the thumb of a managing female.” He smirked. “There are other things I might tell about your affairs as well,LadyChatton.”

Tell or fabricate, Fenella thought. Certainly he would have gotten an earful about the elopement. But she doubted that he’d be limited by the truth. How did a person become so unpleasant?

“And I daresay people may wonder why a hulking footman is required to keep me silent.” Wrayle clearly thought this was the coup de grâce of his argument. He waited for her capitulation with his familiar smirk.

There was no reasoning with the man. “William will join you directly,” Fenella replied, and left Wrayle with his mouth open in surprise.

As she walked downstairs to speak to the footman, she knew that William would gladly play his part for the few days until John and Wrayle departed. And he would prevent Wrayle from spreading his venom both in the house and out of it. There was no danger that the young footman would be swayed by Wrayle’s stories. The man’s treatment of William’s friends among the maids had hardened his, and the whole household’s, opinion against him.

Symmes and Gissing left the neighborhood. The last August days lazed past, with only the approach of the festival on Lindisfarne to vary the household’s routine. John settled in, irritated by Wrayle but companioned by Tom. Fenella enjoyed her role as mistress of Chatton Castle, creating the beautiful, cozy retreat she’d imagined for herself when she first saw her grandmother’s.

There was, naturally, widespread curiosity about their hasty marriage, and a few spiteful remarks were an irritant or a hurtful disappointment, depending on the source. The anonymous letters had sown malice that would take time to fade. Nothing to be done about that but show people the truth of her character, Fenella knew. It helped that there had been no sign of letters since their return. Fenella told herself that they’d stopped. She even hoped that perhaps the writer regretted sending them.

When she said as much to Roger as they were going up to bed one night, he said, “I’d like to think so. But I don’t believe the sort of person who’d write them is likely to be sorry.”

“I suppose not.”

“Too occupied with making trouble and gloating over the havoc they cause,” he added.

At this description, a thought struck Fenella. “I wonder if it could have been Wrayle?”

“That valet fellow Symmes foisted off on us?”

She nodded. “He’s exactly the sort of person you just described. And he has a grudge against me.”

“You?” Roger looked offended at the idea. “Why should he?”

“Because I won’t allow him to creep about the maids, and I keep his bullying of John to a minimum.”

“Why do we have such a servant in the house?”

“Well, I don’t wish to, but John’s father insisted, as a condition of allowing John to stay. You needn’t worry. I’ve given William the task of watching Wrayle. He won’t let him go beyond the line.”

“And rather enjoy it, if what I’ve seen of William is anything to go by.”

“Precisely.” Fenella sat down at the dressing table and began to pull pins out of her hair. She’d taken to dispensing with her maid at bedtime. She and Roger had evolved some more…delightful routines.

“Anonymous letters would be precisely Wrayle’s style,” she said. “He is a pernicious snoop and underhanded.”

Roger’s voice came from the dressing room off the bedchamber. “Didn’t the letters begin before the fellow returned to the neighborhood with Symmes?”

Fenella ran over the timing in her mind. “Yes. That’s true.”

“So he would have had to find someone to deliver them.”

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