Page 33 of The Marquess Wins a Wife
Torn between horror and relief, Radcliff knotted his fingers before him. “Sir?”
Luke rifled through the chests, ignoring Radcliff’s sound of discontent as he rumpled the contents thereof, until at last he’d located a sizeable purse stuffed with coin. “You—and the rest of the staff—will go into town and stay at the local inn. Have a good meal and a good rest before you head back for London in the morning. And while you are there, you will talk openly about your employer.” He withdrew a handful of coins and thrust them into Radcliff’s palm. “I want you to make certaineveryoneknows exactly who I am, and where I am staying.”
“I…see.” Radcliff said, his fingers curling around the coins.
Of course he didn’t. Notreally. But that was no matter. By morning, word would be all over the tiny town. Luke would not even have to seek out those who had laughed at him—theywould come tohim.
∞∞∞
Lizzie dodged the footmen who dominated her foyer and traipsed up and down the stairs, weaving between them as she stomped toward her father’s study—which seemed to have been commandeered by his lordship, if the sounds coming from within were anything to go by.
She stormed through the door, her teeth clenched so tightly she thought she might have cracked a molar, and she hissed through them, “Are youmad? I cannot feed so many people!”
“Madam!” The severe rebuke came from a tall, well-dressed gentleman who held a pair of scissors in his hand, and who stood at attention behind Luke, who himself sat in the chair positioned behind Papa’s desk. “I must insist you absent yourself at once!”
“It’s all right, Radcliff,” Luke said, adjusting himself just slightly in his chair. “Miss Talbot doesn’t stand much upon ceremony. You grow accustomed to it.”
An abbreviated, scornful little sniff followed. “One doesnotbarge in upon his lordship,” Radcliff said, his sharp, weighty gaze falling upon her.
Lizzie suspected that the list of other things which one didnotdo in his lordship’s exalted presence—according to Radcliff—stretched as long as her arm. “One barges anywhere one pleases in one’s own home,” she said, as sweetly as she could manage. “His lordshipis an unwelcome guest, and I’d have booted him out already if—if—” Her mouth snapped shut abruptly as a devious grin tugged at the corners of Luke’s mouth.
“Miss Talbot,” he said, his head turning toward Radcliff, “is attempting to obfuscate the fact that I remain here despite her clear antipathy because sheshotme.”
“Shotyou, sir?” Radcliff recoiled in horror, the scissors quavering in his tense grip.
“I survived, Radcliff,” Luke said dryly. “Unfortunately, my coat—the one by Weston—did not.”
“The blue?” Radcliff inquired, his voice tinged in faint hope.
“The grey.”
For a moment, Lizzie thought the man might faint. He seemed to stagger back a pace, and she wondered if he might benefit from some smelling salts. “The—er, the buttons are still salvageable,” she found herself muttering.
“And further desecrate such a work of art?” Radcliff sniffed. “No; I could never. We shall simply have to go on without it.” He pulled himself together with no small amount of effort, brandishing the scissors once more, though his demeanor was notably changed. If a mancouldmourn for the loss of a garment, well, then, Radcliff was most certainly bereaved.
The snipof the scissors sliced through hair and taut silence both. It seemedhis lordshiphad been in want of a trim.
“You’ll have to forgive Radcliff,” Luke drawled, and if the sardonic tone of his voice was lost on the valet engrossed in his work, it was not lost upon Lizzie. “He simply refused to go until I wasput to rights. And I can admit that he was a bit overzealous in his estimation of what clothing to make available to me.” This, with a vague gesture at a cluster of trunks that were stacked neatly in the corner. “But you won’t have to concern yourself with further unwanted guests. I’m sending them back to town for the night, and they’ll return to London in the morning.”
“To—” She hesitated. “To town? Are you certain that’s wise?”
“Oh, yes. Incidentally, I will be quite busy for the foreseeable future.” His fingertips drummed upon the surface of the desk. “I expect you shall have to prepare large quantities of tea.”
“Tea? Whatever for?”
“One prepares tea for one’s guests, is that not so?” He puffed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.
“We haven’t any guests.” Not foryears.
“We will have. A great number of them.” His lips twitched; a sly expression. “You made sport of me before, but I intend to have the last laugh. Mark my words, Lizzie. They areallgoing to pay.”
There was a double meaning to his words, but somehow she did not think his primary concern was the dwindling finances of her family. The townsfolk had disrespected him, and he would not answer that kindly.
Chapter Fifteen
The bailiff could not look Lizzie in the eye. She ought to have taken some gratification from it—from the fact that she had been able to hear Luke verbally eviscerating the man even though she had largely consigned herself to the floor below—but in all actuality, she was simply exhausted.
Worse still was that Luke had beenmaddeninglycorrect. Visitors had begun pouring through the doors at an ungodly hour of the morning. She had hardly had the time to scrape breakfast onto plates than the first of them had come, hat in hand, and Luke had been obliged to take his plate up to Papa’s study and castigate the first of his victims between bites.
