Page 20 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
Mary heard Andrew take a deep breath, she imagined him holding in an insulting retort.
It was a mistake to make him bring her here.
‘No, sir,’ he said. His eyes looked cold and dark with emotions that were fathoms deep. ‘However, as we are here,perhaps you could offer Mary tea, Mother?’ Belligerence – anger and a false note of arrogance – had slipped into his pitch.
This is where he learned to mask his true emotions.
Warmth spread through Mary’s skin, the heat of embarrassment. She had never imagined that he would need to beg for their hospitality. How could she have foreseen this?
‘She’s a prize beauty,’ Jack said to Andrew. ‘How the devil did you win her, she’s Marlow’s, is she not? I suppose she’s bloody rich as well, knowing your luck.’
Mary saw a muscle in Andrew’s cheek tick.
If one of her brothers had spoken to her like that her father would have reprimanded them, even if they were not children any more.
Her hand wrapped about Andrew’s arm. They had not been asked to sit, and his mother had neither confirmed nor denied the offer of refreshment.
‘Sheis my wife.’ Andrew glared at Jack. ‘And therefore Lady Framlington.Sheis also the half-sister of the Duke of Pembroke so if you do not wish to offend the better half of society, mind your words.’
Mary’s embarrassment continued as the men stared at her, the Marquis’s gaze piercing.
‘Edward Marlow would not have given his permission,’ the Marquis stated.
Andrew’s eldest brother, the Earl of Alder, stood. ‘I imagine Drew has been about his usual mischief.’
Mary expected Andrew to reply, but he was silent. His brother walked to a tray of decanters and poured himself a drink. He did not offer Andrew one. He looked at the Marquis. ‘Father…’
The desire to get Andrew out of the house pulsed into her limbs.This is a poisonous place. We should not have come.
‘If you wish for refreshment, Drew, you must tug the bell pull,’ his mother said. ‘There is no point standing there thinking someone will serve you.’
Mary’s cheeks burned on his behalf, but she was not going to let the woman continue to treat her as if she did not exist. She walked across to pull the bell herself.
‘She’s got a hell of a fine figure on her, ain’t she?’ Mark said. ‘You’re a damned lucky basta?—’
Mary heard a sudden movement and a strangled sound.
She turned back.
Andrew had gripped the knot of Mark’s cravat and twisted the fashionable neck cloth into a noose. ‘You will respect my wife. Do you hear me?’
‘Drew!’ his mother shouted.
The Marquis stood. ‘Out!’ He pointed at the door. ‘You are not welcome here. You never were, and you never will be. You are not my son and I regret the day I let you have my name. Go!’
Andrew thrust his brother back into the chair with a hard shove, let him go, and straightened.
Mary was unsure what to do.
He looked at his mother with scorn, glared defiantly at the Marquis, then held out his hand towards her.
If she could only turn back time, she would hear what he told her and not have brought him here. But how could she have imagined this? What had he done to deserve this? Why had they disowned him?
She took his hand. His fingers closed tightly about hers.
Andrew nodded a scarce bow in the direction of his mother. ‘Forgive me for reminding you of my existence.’ His voice was cold and condemning.
He turned, pulling Mary in his wake, and they left the room. She looked over her shoulder in the last stride. ‘Good day.’ His family were not polite, but she had been raised better.
