Page 22 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
After a moment, she let go.
He turned.
Her hands hovered in front of her waist, her fingers nervously touching her wedding ring. She looked from the ring to him, her crystal-like eyes looking straight into his eyes. ‘Why is your ring inscribed T R? I wondered if it was a family ring, but the initials do not link with anyone.’
Could the woman not work it out for herself?He sipped the brandy.
‘I am sorry, I suppose you won it in a game of cards, or…’
Good God.Drew felt his anger soar.Or?Was she accusing him of giving her a stolen ring?
‘Or what, Mary?’ His pitch was low, his temper threatening. ‘Say it!’ he growled.
She stepped back, grasping the back of a chair to stop herself from falling. ‘It is nothing.’ Confusion flickered in her beautiful eyes.
But he could not get a grip on his anger. ‘Nothing, Mary?’ She had unleashed the devil in him. He glared at her.But damn her!‘Or that it may be stolen? From whom would I steal it? Why would I give you something of so little meaning? I neither won nor stole your ring.’
‘I… I… did n… not m… mean…’ she stuttered.
‘To assume I must be in the wrong and them right? You meant every damned word! Well, I am sick of your condemnation. I don’t give a damn what you think any more.’ He threw the last of the brandy into his mouth, swallowed and turned away from her. ‘Think what you damn well wish.’ He had to get away.
‘Andrew.’ She followed him towards the door. ‘I just did not understand.’
As he passed the games table, where the chessboard was set for a new game, he turned back, lifting a hand to warn her from coming close. ‘I told you I did not want to go there, but you insisted. Are you happy now?’
He felt as though she had pulled a loose thread and he was fraying. ‘I have no idea who T R is. But whomever he is, he is my father!Would you have me apologise to the Marquis and my mother, who have always hated that I exist, for her lechery?’
The eyes he had admired so often, and seen strength and humour in, misted with pity.
His anger burned even brighter. ‘Do not pity me!’
‘Please…’ She tried to hold his arm.
He lifted it away. ‘Please what? Apologise to them! No!’ With that he struck the chess pieces from the board, swiping them onto the floor with the back of his hand, sending them flying with a satisfactory crash, and then for good measure he tipped over the table, so the marble board followed its players.
Then he stormed from the room, his heart racing.
9
Mary paced across the sitting room for the thousandth time. There was no sign of her errant husband.
Her stomach churned with anxiety. It was empty, of course. She had not eaten luncheon, nor dinner, but she hoped to eat supper at the ball they were supposed to be attending.
She looked at the clock, as she had every few minutes. It was nearly ten. She would have to come up with a lie for her father again if Andrew did not take her to the ball. She had changed into her evening dress a long time ago. She managed with the buttons by spinning the dress around, but tying the lacing of her stays was impossible. That garment lay discarded on the bed.
Footsteps ran up the hall stairs. They weren’t Andrew’s, she knew the sound of his steps.
Where is he?
The footsteps stopped outside their door. A knock hit the wood.
‘Drew, old devil, are you in?’ It was Lord Brooke. ‘You are forever closeted away with that wife of yours, and your old friend needs you.’
Mary had assumed Andrew was with his friends, so, if Lord Brooke was here, where was Andrew?
She opened the door, a blush heating her cheeks. ‘L-L-Lord Brooke. A-A-Andrew is not at home. I thought he was with you.’
‘I have not seen him for a couple of days. May I wait for him?’ He walked past her, without waiting for her invitation, and headed to Andrew’s brandy decanter.
