Page 62 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
Chapter Eleven
What had once been a bachelor domain positively reeked of feminine influence. Fresh-cut flowers cluttered a table. The scent of beeswax and lemon permeated the air. Embroidered cushions overflowed the sofa beside the hearth. Clearly the Marquess of Beauworth was firmly beneath the cat’s paw.
As Alistair was fast becoming. There had been a bouquet in the middle of his breakfast table, he now recalled.
Beauworth’s piercing gaze levelled on his face. ‘Now the ladies are otherwise occupied, have a seat and tell me your concerns about my employment of your half-brother.’
Thank the deities for a man who got straight to the point. Alistair took the armchair. Beauworth, shoving a couple of floral cushions out of the way, sprawled on the sofa.
‘I don’t trust him,’ Alistair said. ‘To have him within a hundred miles of me or mine is a hundred miles too close.’
The Marquess frowned. ‘You have evidence that he means you ill?’
Ah, hell, what did one say? Old wounds knotted his gut. He had no proof that his brother had tried to kill him. Or that he was in any way involved with his mother’s schemes. ‘He’s my heir.’ It was as far as he would go, but too many things had happened in the past to make him comfortable with members of his family living close by. Or visiting.
Beauworth leaned back and rested one long arm along the back of the sofa with a grimace. ‘You think he wants the title.’
‘If I die first it is his.’ Whatever happened, the title would ultimately go to Alistair’s supposed nephew. In the meantime, he was keeping the estate safe from his stepmother’s tendency to pillage. Something Luke would never manage. The woman was his mother, after all.
Beauworth scowled. ‘You would do well to follow my maxim. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. In the meantime get yourself a son and solve the issue.’
Simple for Beauworth to say. That would never happen. Not that he was going to air his family’s dirty laundry to his neighbour. ‘Running into him is awkward in the extreme given our past disagreements.’ As was meeting his nephew, who looked nothing like his legal father. The last thing he wanted was for Julia to put two and two together. And seeing the boy himself was always a wrench. A reminder of what he could never have. ‘I can only presume he feels the same way.’
It was not stated as a question, but Beauworth got the point and shook his head. ‘Not that I know of. I did ask him why you did not make use of his talent. He intimated that you did not work well together.’ The Marquess shot him another of those piercing glances. ‘And thus your loss is my gain.’
‘You will keep him on, then? Over my reservations?’
‘Why would I not? I haven’t come close to finding anyone with his expertise. The man is an excellent steward. And also a friend.’
Alistair bit back the temptation to demand. He was Duke after all. But Beauworth would not take kindly to orders. Nor did he wish to arouse the Marquess’s curiosity any more than he had. ‘Very well. We shall not speak of it again, but I do not want to find him wandering on Dunstan property at any time, day or night. I assume you will make these wishes known.’
Beauworth’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you could give me one good reason—’
Alistair raised a hand. ‘My brother is not worth us falling out.’ He had few enough friends as it was. He would simply keep Julia and Luke apart. He put down his cup and saucer on the tray and rose to his feet. ‘Perhaps we should go and find my Duchess. I praised your gardens to the skies and she was looking forward to seeking your advice on some horticultural matters.’
For a moment, Beauworth looked as if he might press Alistair further, but he must have thought better of it. He stood up. ‘It will be my very great pleasure, Duke.’
* * *
‘Lord and Lady Beauworth are a lovely couple,’ Julia said, as they passed the last of Boxted’s cottages on the Sackfield side of the village. A woman working in her patch of garden straightened to watch them pass. She hesitated, not sure how he would react to what she had to say. Dash it, she was not a mouse to shiver in a corner waiting for the cat to pounce. ‘Lady Beauworth invited me to join a committee raising funds for a new church bell. It meets once a week.’
‘Is that something you would like to do?’ Alistair sounded non-committal.
‘I would. It will help me to get to know our neighbours.’ She waited, breath held. Her first husband had rarely let her go out of the house.
‘There are great many who would like to get to know you.’
Again he gave her no clue as to whether he deemed this a good or bad thing. She decided to take his lack of opinion as approval.
‘We should invite the Beauworths to dine with us before the end of the summer,’ she said. ‘His lordship gave me a great many ideas with regard to the gardens and I would like to show him the results.’
‘Good idea.’
‘Their children are delightful.’ She smiled brightly.
‘I will take your word for it.’
She wanted to shake him. He responded politely, but he did not converse. He had withdrawn again. It was most annoying. And worrisome.
