Chapter 14
From the middle of the ballroom, the three men stared at Lizzie. Mr. Rackham grew quite red-cheeked. The duke gave a slight bow, one of his eyelids drooped slightly as if he laughed at the intrusion. Her husband gave a quizzical smile. “My dear wife, do you have need of me?”
“Why can’t you ask me for the funds, Felmont?” Lizzie summoned a smile by force of will. “I shall be glad to oblige you.”
“To pay for a woman for Angel Anston? Very obliging of you, but Saint Sirin can foot the bill for this one.”
“You are a–” Lizzie’s mouth snapped shut at the expression on his face.
“A word of warning, dear heart. You are perilously close to disaster.” He gestured to his friends and gave his sword to Mr. Rackham. “Carry on. I must have a word with my wife.” He swept her from the room with an arm around her to make her go with him. His swift kiss of welcome on Gladys’s cheek, froze her companion in place at the doorway with joyful laughter. Gladys had always liked Felmonts.
They entered the hall to find James there, looking worried. The Beast growled a warning. Lizzie shook her head. She dared not let James attempt to rescue her and risk the Beast’s wrath.
They crossed the reception room and left the Folly by way of the terrace doors to walk between the low walls that were all that was left of the gardens, once a riot of flowers, now simply a lawn scythed low.
“Can I not tempt you with the shops, dear wife?” drawled the Beast when he allowed her to stop for breath.
Lizzie demurred. “No, but do not feel obliged to stay on my behalf, Felmont. It is only a matter of time before you will have an urge to go to London. A Felmont urge you cannot control.”
“Astley’s? Elgin’s statues, most marvelous things. No? Too naked for your taste?” He offered her his left arm.
Lizzie felt obliged to take it.
He led her along the ruined gardens. “What happened to your mother’s sunken flower beds?”
“The stone had to go somewhere. It seemed as good a place as any. Your father had taken most of the plants and the gardeners to the Priory.”
She felt his arm tense.
“Lizzie, I have to tell you something. Saint Sirin needs my help in London, a wounded friend. He’s dying. I must go to see him. He needs a nurse, hence my list of desirable attributes for the woman to nurse him.”
“Then, by all means, we will go to London for one day. You may visit your friend to say your goodbyes.”
“I need to stay longer than that! Why not say we can stay for a sennight?”
“No! Do you think I don’t know how men amuse themselves in London? What your father did? The whores and worse!” Lizzie drew a breath. “Felmont, let me go. You shall have any or all of my fortune. Divorce me and choose another. Go to London with your woman. I beg you, go.”
“Hellfire! I have no whore! You are my wife and I shall keep my marriage vows.” He glared down at her. “Your uncles wait to eviscerate me if we separate. They’d make sure I don’t have the funds to divorce you, and you’d never give me cause. There are traps worse than this one, Lizzie.” He strode away, dragging her after him.
At a run, she covered the ground to the ha-ha that separated the formal gardens from the kitchen garden with its rows of neatly tended beds. “Stop it! I have a stitch in my side!” Lizzie gasped for breath. “Beast! Stop!”
He led her down into the man-made gully before he slowed his pace. The air turned green and cool in the shade. Her shoes sank into the dampness underfoot. Birds twittered as they tried to peck the last of the late raspberries through the netting over the shrubs.
“Call me Beast again and you forfeit your pact, sweet wife.” His smile grew licentious. Wicked folly laughed in his eyes. “I shall forgive you just this once.”
Lizzie smiled back at him. “And I shall remind you I have no intention of letting you go to London for longer than a day.”
“Let me know when you change your mind, my love. I’ll rest until supper. Would you care to join me?” The Beast invited her to his bed in the middle of the afternoon as if he thought her silly enough to accept his invitation.
She stepped away from him in case he was having an urge, to stroll with feigned calm on the paths among the rows of raspberry canes. She inspected the apricots and peaches trained against the wall of the laundry service-court with its linens drying in the breeze from the fell.
Servants melted away at their approach.
“You could visit your tenants, Felmont, if you lack something to do.” Anything to keep him busy. “You could inspect the outbuildings.” She pointed towards the ornate roofs of the ice-house, laundry, bakehouse and bothy.
“But the Folly is yours.” He reached around her to open the gate into the laundry courtyard.
Lizzie fled through the opening. “You could go shooting.”
The Beast sighed behind her back. “My urge to kill has been sated a thousand times over. I think I’ll take a nap. I am allowed to sleep during the day, dear heart?”
She turned to face him. His lazy smile revealed a wealth of meaning until he bent down to kiss her cheek. The touch of his lips accompanied a caress of his fingertips on her sensitive neck.
He whispered in her ear, “We could go to visit the shops. There is no need for you to meet him. I know you’ve had your share of death and dying. Come with me to London, get some new clothes, new furniture for the house. Not that it is any of my business, the Folly is yours.”
Lizzie pushed him away. “No. Go and visit your friend. Enjoy yourself.” Her traitorous eyes filled with tears. She bowed her head to hide them.
“I’d always be within call, I swear it. No clubs, I promise. I shall wear a leash if you insist.” His low voice pleading his lies almost made her laugh. She knew Felmont desires could not be leashed, and to let him go risked both their lives.
“Let me know when you change your mind.” He stroked her cheek and kissed the top of her head. “Until midnight.”
Lizzie Tempest Ruins A Viscount (Felmont Brides Series Book 1) Page 18