Page 71 of How to Ruin a Duke
“Food,” he muttered.“Sustenance.Allow the lady to keep up her strength.We aren’t all mastodons.”
The notion of rearing a herd of little mastodons and mastodonesses with Edith cheered him as he made his way to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of lemonade, an orange, and two pieces of shortbread.He passed Edith’s desk, where her work in progress had clearly occupied her prior to his arrival.
He didn’t think to peek, though she’d mentioned discussing the project with him.His intent was to leave her a note, a small expression of fondness for her to find after he’d left, though fondness was putting the situation mildly.Thaddeus finally understood all the friends who’d become distracted, smiling, oddly quiet creatures upon the occasion of taking a spouse.
“They are happy, those fellows.I suspect their wives are too.”He set the food on the edge of the desk and took the chair.He was so far gone on newfound dreams of connubial joy that he was even pleased to be sitting in the very chair where Edith sat.
“Daft,” he said, taking a bite of a shortbread.“But happy.A fair trade.”
He reached for a sheet of foolscap, though Edith’s manuscript sat just to his left.Her penmanship was all that a lady’s should be, graceful, legible, and without a blot or correction.
He didn’t mean to peek, truly he didn’t, and yet…
Dear reader, if you assume the escapades of the Duke of Amorous were sufficient to fill only one volume, I must respectfully inform you that you are in error.His Grace’s peccadillos are more interesting and numerous than you have been led to believe.That revelation astounds the imagination, I know, but read on and be amazed….
The shortbread turned to ashes in Thaddeus’s mouth.He absolutelywasastounded, at his own stupidity.His own gullibility.His own…
“The mastodon became extinct, probably because he was no smarter than I have been.”
Thaddeus could not bring himself to read on, and before he could retrieve the rest of his clothes from the bedroom he needed time to marshal his wits.He rose from the chair, feeling unclean, furious, and…
Determined, by God.The word took on new meaning, in fact.Perhaps Lady Edith had been determined to extract the last ounce of revenge upon his family for some slight from Mama, perhaps her ladyship was angry at all of polite society.Not by word or deed would Thaddeus gratify her petty maneuvers with an opportunity to fling her excuses in his face.
He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly, to set aside hurt feelings and shame.He returned the rest of the food to the kitchen for his appetite had been replaced by nausea.Logic came to his aid, and a plan began to take shape.If Lady Edith thought she could destroy the reputation of a duke, well, she’d tilted at that windmill, and Thaddeus was still standing.She’d failed to account for the fact that, much more easily than a duke could be brought low by undeserved defamation, he could push an impoverished schemer into utter ruin merely by airing the truth.
First, he would depart the premises without disclosing what he’d learned.
Second, he would have a word with Mama, and through her vast network of gossips, he’d put the truth of Lady Edith’s perfidy before all of polite society.
Third, he’d offer her ladyship a small sum in exchange for the rights to her scribblings and a promise that she’d quit the metropolis, never to return.
Fourth, he’d get quietly drunk and try to forgive himself for having trusted her.
When he returned to the bedroom, he found the author of his troubles still asleep, the picture of feminine innocence.He tucked the covers up around her, because the sight of her dreaming so peacefully exacerbated his temper.
How dare she?He dressed quickly and quietly, seething all the while.He’d provided her a home and a livelihood for months, and she’d thanked him by turning her back on his family, then penning a pack of misrepresentations and exaggerations.The nerve, the unmitigated hubris, the sheer, unpardonable…
He’d just finished tying his cravat when he realized Edith watched him from the bed.
“Must you go?”she asked, sitting up.“I know better than to ask that.You’re a busy man, but I wish you could tarry longer.”
So she could snack on the remnants of his dignity?Thaddeus pulled the knot in his linen snug and smiled at her over his shoulder.
“Alas, I must leave, my lady.I wish I had no cause to abandon you, but I am compelled by the duties of my station to quit the premises.You needn’t see me out.”He didn’t want her hands on him, didn’t want to see her unclothed, didn’t want to acknowledge what a great, pathetic fool he’d been.
She fished her chemise from beneath the covers and slipped it over her head.Thaddeus fiddled with his sleeve buttons rather than gawk at what he should never have seen.
“I’ll at least kiss you farewell,” she said.“This interlude was an unexpected pleasure.I hope you have no regrets?”
Oh, he had regrets.He regretted not trusting his first instincts where she was concerned, he regretted that she was so much that he could esteem and everything he abhorred.He regretted ever welcoming her into his household.
“Regrets are so tedious,” he said, consulting his watch.“If you have regrets, I hope they won’t trouble you for long.”Three or four eternities should be sufficient, provided they were spent in a purgatory of unrelenting opprobrium.
She left the bed and drew on a dressing gown that had been draped over the footboard.“I have no regrets.None at all.”
She snuggled up against him, and he nearly embraced her out of… what?Stupidity?Reflex?
“I really must be going,” he said.“Duty calls and all that.”He sounded like Jeremiah, sidling away from responsibility while pretending to move briskly toward it, though getting free of Lady Edith’s company had become imperative.She wasn’t acting guilty, she wasn’t acting smug.
