“Leave us,” Richard commanded, dismissing the tutor.
Mr. Johnson lifted one eyebrow. “Mr. Harper, I was just telling the boys—”
“Leave us!” Richard repeated, his voice low and hard.
The tutor took a step forward, then halted and wrinkled his nose. Hell, I must really reek, Richard thought. The nauseated look that passed over the man’s face was all too familiar; it was the same expression he’d received from the various servants he had encountered as he stormed to the schoolroom.
“I will wait outside,” Mr. Johnson said stiffly.
Still seething, Richard turned to the boys. James went rigid, his lips whitening, but Edward’s face darkened, bitterness burning in his eyes.
“This time you have gone too far,” Richard snapped. “Your prank might very well have cost me a partnership as well as a great deal of money. That animal disrupted my meeting, attacked my business associate, and sprayed my study with noxious fumes.”
“It was a joke,” James said, his face paling. “We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”
“Clearly you both need a lesson on the dangers of playing with wild animals,” Richard admonished. “I will add that to your punishment. But first you will work in the stables each day, mucking out the stalls until you have accumulated enough money to pay for the replacement of Mr. Dixon’s garments.
“You will not be allowed to participate in any holiday activities for the remainder of this week or next, nor will you be permitted any dessert or sweets.”
“But it’s Christmas next week,” James wailed.
“You should have thought about that before you locked a skunk in my study,” Richard said tightly. “You will write letters of apology immediately. One to Mr. Dixon, one to Miss Hardie, and one to Mr. Hollingsworth, who I understand is the owner of the animal. You will deliver them this afternoon, along with a verbal admission of your guilt and a sincere expression of regret. Is that understood?”
Squirming in his seat, James nodded. But Edward’s chin lifted defiantly.
“Edward.” The warning in Richard’s tone was unmistakable, the intensity of his glare expectant. They locked eyes for a few seconds and then something resembling resignation sketched across Edward’s features.
“I understand,” Edward said glumly.
Richard gave the pair a final glare. Then fearing his temper might yet get the best of him, he jerked the door open roughly. The boy’s tutor jumped back guiltily, nearly losing his balance. Obviously the man had been listening at the door.
“You heard what I require of them?” Richard asked.
“Yes, Mr. Harper.”
“Then make sure that it is done.”
With one hand braced on the banister, Richard started down the steps, meeting a surprised Juliet coming the opposite way.
“Richard, what is going on? The house is at sixes and sevens and I’ve been hearing the most ridiculous stories.” She reached the landing and paused, her brows lifting skyward. “My goodness, what is that dreadful smell?”
Richard bit back his temper, swallowing a gruff retort. “Ask your sons, Juliet,” he snorted.
Then without a backward glance, he continued on his way.
Chapter 16
Frustrated and concerned, Juliet drew a deep breath and entered the schoolroom. Edward and James were seated at their desks, heads bent, hands moving as they wrote studiously. Their tutor, Mr. Johnson, stood near, his expression serious.
“It appears there has been some sort of mishap, Mr. Johnson. Will you kindly explain what has occurred?”
The tutor frowned. “I think it best if the boys tell you themselves.”
James looked up at her, made a muffled sound of distress, and then bent his head and continued writing. In contrast, Edward dropped his pen and stared stoically into her face. Unease trickled down Juliet’s back.
“What has happened, Edward?” she asked.
In a dispassionate tone of voice he related the incident that had occurred in the study, all the while making it sound as though it was Richard’s fault. An impressive feat considering that Richard was the victim. Well, Richard and Mr. Dixon and Miss Hardie.
“And where is this poor, unfortunate skunk now?” Juliet asked as she tried to grasp all that she had just heard.
James looked up, his eyes widening with concern. Edward’s brow wrinkled in thought. “I don’t know,” he answered.
Juliet felt her patience begin to fray. “You didn’t think to ask?”
“No.” Edward’s mouth turned into a stubborn line. “I guess it was taken out of the house.”
Juliet let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Well, you’ll need to find out. It might have been seriously harmed. I’m sure Mr. Hollingsworth will be very distressed if something happened to his beloved pet. And he will no doubt be upset to discover the animal has caused such an uproar.”
A flicker of concerned surprise lit Edward’s face. “Charlie is harmless.”
“That is a matter of opinion,” Juliet said tartly. “I very much doubt Mr. Dixon would agree, since he was doused with spray.”
James winced, but Edward’s face was expressionless. Juliet found her older son’s lack of remorse even more provoking, but she kept her temper. “As for your punishment—”
“Mr. Harper has already dictated the boys’ punishment,” the tutor hastened to inform her. “Edward and James are just now writing their letters of apology to Mr. Dixon, Miss Hardie, and Mr. Hollingsworth.”
Juliet’s fingers reached for the strands of hair brushing against her neck, a sure sign of her agitation. Richard was the injured party. It was his right to decide on the appropriate retribution.
But the children were her responsibility. And their actions demonstrated how sharply she had failed at her duty. She was embarrassed and upset, but also annoyed with herself. If she had done a proper job, this incident would not have occurred.
“You will also include a letter of apology to Richard,” Juliet said firmly.
“For the skunk?” James asked.
“Of course for the skunk.” As Juliet took a moment to consider the question, a sinking feeling began in her stomach. “Why do you ask? Is there anything else you have done that would require an apology?”
“I don’t know.” James cast a nervous glance at Edward, who in turn ignored him.
Crossing her arms, Juliet bestowed a stern look upon Edward and waited.
“We put oatmeal in his shoes,” Edward muttered, cracking under her scrutiny. “And salt in the sugar bowl on his breakfast tray.”
“And when we went to gather mistletoe, we left when he was in the oak tree,” James added in a rush.
Juliet’s eyes widened in horror as she listened. “Why would you do such dreadful things?”
James’s lower lip trembled, but Edward remained defiant. “He doesn’t like us.”
Juliet opened her mouth to refute Edward’s claim, then closed it. The idea that Richard actively disliked her children was too painful to contemplate, for it meant they could never truly become a family.
Yet she could not dispute Edward’s words with any concrete authority. Richard had given no indication that he held any regard or affection for the children, and they were astute enough to see it.
“Playing such mean-spirited pranks will hardly endear you to him,” Juliet snapped.
“He didn’t care,” Edward countered. “He never said anything about them.”
“Maybe he didn’t know it was us,” James suggested hopefully.
Edward cast his brother a disgusted look before turning to face his mother. “He knew. He just didn’t care. I told you, he doesn’t like us.”
Juliet drew in a stiff breath. There was no mistaking the regret in James’s eyes nor the resentment in Edward’s. How had things gotten so far out of control? “Your behavior has been disgraceful. I am bitterly disappointed in your actions. I expected more, much more, of you.”
Silence reigned as Juliet contemplated her
sons. Her heart swirled with mixed emotions of regret and disappointment, and she searched valiantly for a bit of hope. This can be fixed, she told herself.
“We will discuss further punishment for these actions after you have made your apologies this afternoon,” Juliet said, breaking through the tense quiet.
Chastened, James lowered his head. But Juliet clearly saw the flash of resentment deepen in Edward’s eyes. Disheartened, Juliet bade farewell to Mr. Johnson. The tutor looked relieved.
Leaving the schoolroom, she headed directly for Richard’s bedchamber. The fragrant boughs of pine garland and bright merry ribbons glistened at her as she walked down the halls, seeming to mock her.
Juliet had convinced herself that somehow sharing the joys of the holiday season would miraculously turn them into a family. Obviously she was mistaken.
Thoughts whirling, she entered Richard’s bedchamber, pulling up short when she discovered it was occupied by a servant. The man’s thin face brightened with curiosity, his eyes glittering with interest.
“Mrs. Harper.” The servant bowed respectfully. “I am Hallet, Mr. Harper’s valet.”
“Good afternoon,” Juliet replied, trying to conquer her awkwardness. At this stage in her marriage, Richard’s personal servant should have been known to her. But since she had rarely been in Richard’s bedchamber, she had never laid eyes on his valet. “I need to speak with my husband, Hallet. Would you kindly inform him?”
“Mr. Harper is in the bath, madam,” the valet replied, adjusting the garments he held in his hand. Juliet recognized them as the clothes Richard had been wearing earlier, the clothes the skunk had no doubt ruined. “Apparently there was an incident in his study this morning.”
Juliet smiled faintly. “Uhm, yes, so I have discovered. Actually, that’s the reason I’m here. To discuss the incident.”
Hallet stiffened. “I’m afraid Mr. Harper is still recovering. May I relay a message to him?”
Juliet knew the man was only being protective of his employer, but his attitude still rankled. She glanced at the open doorway to the bathing chamber, trying to decide if she could get past the servant without making a fool of herself.
Concluding she couldn’t, Juliet looked away. She wasn’t particularly pleased, but the last thing she wanted was to make a scene. “Do you think my husband will be indisposed much longer?”
“’Tis difficult to say.” The valet bent his head toward the garments in his hand and delicately sniffed.
Hearing the sound, Juliet nearly cringed. “Are they ruined?”
“I will attempt to salvage the garments, as they are among Mr. Harper’s favorites. But alas, I can make no promises.”
Feeling her stomach tighten, Juliet moved across the room. As she drew near, the strength of the odor increased. “I was told it was a little skunk and therefore assumed it could do little damage. I suppose in this instance size doesn’t matter.”
“Apparently.” The valet released a tightly held sigh. “I will inform Mr. Harper of your request to speak with him.”
Bowing graciously, the servant left, returning almost immediately. “Mr. Harper said he would see you in the drawing room at three o’clock, after your sons have apologized to Mr. Dixon.”
Juliet felt the knot in her chest tighten. She wanted to settle this here and now. She wanted to hear Richard’s side of the story, wanted to know what else he intended to do with the boys. She believed further punishment was necessary, yet the mother inside her was compelled to press for patience and compassion.
Waiting any longer to have that discussion was going to make it much harder for her. She glanced again at the doorway to the bathing chamber, a pleading expression on her face.
“I’m very sorry, madam,” the valet said gently, sympathy in his eyes. Still, he did not move aside. “Mr. Harper was most insistent in his instructions. And if I may be so bold, I would suggest that he will be in a far better temper and frame of mind once the stench has been washed from his body.”
Juliet nodded. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but at this point she realized all she could do now was salvage her dignity. She raised her brow, leveled her chin, and looked Hallet in the eye. “Be sure to tell Mr. Harper I will be waiting for him in the drawing room.”
“Very good, madam.”
Hallet bowed again, even lower and more respectfully. Or at least that’s what Juliet told herself as she glided out of the chamber.
It was miraculous how quickly a hot bath and a fresh set of clean, odor-free clothing could alter a situation, Richard decided a few hours later. With the stench of skunk no longer clinging to his garments, Richard felt immensely better and selfishly hoped Dixon did also. The negotiations would go much smoother with his new partner in a congenial frame of mind.
In far better spirits than when he left, Richard entered the study. The chill of the wide open windows hit him immediately, but the fresh air had succeeded in clearing the room of any offensive odor. Fortunately, the skunk had not sprayed the rug, curtains, or furniture, and a steady change of air for several hours had set things to rights.
In quick succession Richard shut the many windows, relieved that once they were closed, he could only detect the scent of candle wax drifting in the air. The fire blazing in the hearth soon warmed the room. Richard went to his desk to review his notes in preparation for the upcoming meeting, finding them neatly stacked. Even under duress, Miss Hardie proved her dedication.
But it was difficult for Richard to concentrate, as his mind continued to replay the infamous events that had occurred earlier. The main recipient of the skunk attack had been Dixon, and honestly that could have been avoided if the man had just listened when Richard told him to keep his distance from the animal.
Richard started smiling as he recalled Dixon’s blustering shock, then laughed out loud. It truly had been comical.
He was still laughing when Edward and James arrived. Looking chastened and solemn, James handed Richard a note.
“I’m very sorry for all the trouble the skunk made, sir,” he said.
Richard sobered immediately, trying to assume a stern air. It was critical at this juncture that he assert his authority over the boys.
Edward next passed his letter to Richard, a slight smirk on his face. “I’m also sorry that the skunk attacked Mr. Dixon.”
“Instead of me? Isn’t that what you really meant to say, Edward?”
The boy’s defiant stare told Richard that was precisely what he meant, but Edward was wise enough not to acknowledge it.
Richard grit his teeth. “I will accept your apologies on the condition that this type of behavior won’t be repeated. There will be no more salt placed in my sugar bowl or oatmeal poured into my shoes or any other sort of nonsensical prank you can devise. Agreed?”
The boys exchanged a surprised look and Richard realized that George had been correct. He should have acknowledged those pranks sooner. Perhaps that might have prevented today’s incident.
Determined to make a fresh start for everyone’s sake, Richard held out his hand. Edward glanced from the hand stretched toward him to Richard’s face. His mouth grew white at the corners as he struggled with his decision. His acceptance would bring a truce between them, and Richard suspected the boy was not yet ready to end the battle.
“I agree,” James interjected, pushing himself forward and grasping Richard’s hand.
Pleased the child was not completely under the influence of his older brother and able to make his own decisions, Richard shook his hand.
“Edward?” Richard again extended his hand to the boy. “No more pranks?” Stifling a sigh of impatience, he waited. “You must realize that I cannot allow anyone to act with such impropriety inside my own home, especially a child.”
“It’s my house,” Edward declared indignantly, a pugnacious tilt lining his jaw.
“True. But I pay all the bills. And until the time that you assume that responsibility, you will afford me the respect I am owed.”<
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A flash sharpened Edward’s eyes. Richard thought the boy would argue further, but instead he grasped Richard’s hand and shook it briefly. Hardly a ringing endorsement of acceptance, but it was something.
There was a sharp knock at the door and then Dixon entered the study. He was wearing fresh clothes, the collar of his white shirt starched, the black suit jacket crisply pressed. His hair was noticeably damp, his jaw newly shaved. A very faint odor hung about his person, but it was not overpowering. Richard resisted the surprising urge to smile.
“Harper.” Dixon acknowledged him with a sharp nod, and then turned steely eyes to the boys. “I see you have discovered the culprits of this morning’s shenanigans.”
“Edward and James are very sorry that their foolish antics caused such problems,” Richard said.
“They should be,” Dixon grumbled. “I expect they will be severely punished.”
“I can assure you that the boys will be properly disciplined,” Richard replied.
“So be it. Given that I was the injured party, I would prefer to apply the rod myself, but I will defer because this is your home. I will watch, however, to make certain you do a proper job of it. Start with the younger boy, if you please.”
James heaved a shuddering exclamation of distress. Ignoring the sound, Richard cocked his head, slowly digesting Dixon’s words. Was he jesting? Or merely trying to frighten the boys?
Dixon tilted his chin and looked Richard square in the eye. His face was dark, lined with no trace of mercy, his eyes intense with a certainty of purpose. Richard realized he should not have been all that surprised that Dixon would demand a beating as punishment. It was, however, even more jarring to discover he wanted to watch.
It had been a noxious prank, but certainly not one that warranted beating a child. Richard tried to imagine how he would feel if their positions were reversed, quickly concluding that he did not agree such a harsh reprisal was justified.
It was not a malicious prank. No one had been seriously hurt, well, except for Dixon’s pride. And truthfully Richard knew that he was partially to blame. He should have put an end to these pranks the moment they started. Instead, he had chosen to ignore them.
Tis the Season to Be Sinful Page 23