Page 65 of The Viscount's Promise
The following afternoon and Willowhaven was bustling with activity. As soon as luncheon was over, the guests retired to their rooms to prepare for the upcoming evening of grand, lavish entertainment, Tristan with them. Malcolm should feel nothing but relief. It meant they were nearly done with this fortnight of torture. He could leave Emily and the threat of her behind, could return to his old life and take up where he had left off, as if nothing had happened to upset his careful existence. As he closed himself off in his room, however, he could not help noticing that there was no satisfaction in the thought.
No matter. He yanked off his cravat in sharp jerks. Once he was free of this place he would feel differently. Tomorrow morning, with the rising sun, he would leave Willowhaven and not look back.
The soft sounds of muted conversation came through his door. He might have ignored it. The house was full of people, after all. If one particular voice had not caught his attention.
Willbridge. He was back.
Without a second’s thought, Malcolm bounded across the room, yanking open his door. Willbridge and Imogen were passing by and appeared surprised at his abrupt appearance.
“Damn, but it’s good to see you, man,” Malcolm blurted.
Willbridge’s lips quirked. “Missed me, have you?”
“You have no idea.” He greeted Imogen before turning back to Willbridge. “I didn’t think you were to return until after tomorrow.”
“Imogen thought it only right that we come back in time for the final ball,” Willbridge explained, giving his wife a tender look that was not lost on Malcolm. “Though do try and keep it under your hat, Morley. I’ve a mind to see my bride settled in her new apartments before we’re set upon by all and sundry, and I don’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Good, good,” he mumbled, earning him a strange look from Willbridge. The couple started off again. In a panic he leaped forward. “Wait. I would speak to you a moment.”
Willbridge looked at him in disbelief. “Now?”
“I’m afraid so,” Malcolm replied. “It cannot wait another minute.”
His friend gave him a scowl and appeared ready to refuse. Imogen, however, peered closely at him. “Lord Morley, are you well?”
“Certainly,” he declared. Imogen, however, did not look convinced.
“Caleb,” she murmured, “perhaps you had better see what Lord Morley needs.”
The change in Willbridge was instantaneous. He smiled, bringing his wife’s hand to his lips and kissing it softly. “I’ll be along shortly,” he said before turning to Malcolm. “Very well, Morley, lead on.”
If the outcome hadn’t been in his favor, Malcolm might have found the whole situation disgusting in the extreme. He hurried Willbridge into his room and closed the door.
Once inside, however, Malcolm couldn’t think how best to bring up what he needed. After several seconds of uncertainty, he blurted, “I want you to release me from my promises, Willbridge.”
His friend frowned, concern darkening his pale gray eyes. Eyes the exact hue of Emily’s.
At the pang of grief in his chest, Malcolm’s resolve strengthened. The sooner he left this place, the better.
“What is it?” Willbridge asked.
His gaze was too piercing, too seeing. Malcolm’s eyes slid away and he stepped past him to peer out the window. “Nothing’s wrong. I have things to do in London and would like to return as soon as I’m able. To do that, you need to release me from the promises I made to you. It’s as simple as that.”
“It doesn’t sound simple at all,” Willbridge said quietly. “You look rattled. I haven’t seen you in such a state since...”
The air was thick with the implications of the unsaid word.Lydia. Willbridge would remember the torment he’d been in with Lydia and Bertram’s betrayal. That he even remotely resembled the distraught man he used to be was troubling indeed.
“Just release me,” Malcolm said.
Willbridge’s boots sounded across the floor as he came closer. The tension in Malcolm’s body was incredible. Willbridge knew him as well as anyone could; he would be able to see what he was hiding.
When Willbridge’s hand settled warm and comforting on his shoulder, Malcolm nearly lost his resolve to remain aloof then and there. Here was a man who had stood by him throughout some of the most difficult times of his life. Now he needed his companionship more than ever before. Yet he could never claim it, for it was this man’s sister who was at the center of it all.
Damn it, but Willbridge would hate him if he ever found out.
“You and I have known each other almost all our lives,” Willbridge said now, underscoring the treachery Malcolm had unconsciously perpetrated. “You know I have always been there for you. I will be here for you now, if you will let me. What happened while I was gone that has you in such a state? I’ll help if I can.”
Malcolm felt all the sting of the words. He shrugged out from beneath Willbridge’s touch. “I simply wish to leave,” he bit out. “Can’t you understand that? I’ve been at the beck and call of your sisters, watching over Tristan as if he were a recalcitrant child, for a fortnight now. I grow weary of doing your job for you, Willbridge.”
