Page 77 of Desperate Proposals
The coachman cleared his throat and began again.
“It’s Mrs. Wolfenden, sir. Why, she came down the morning you left, decked out in her fancy clobber, and demanded I drive her to Methering Manor. When I refused and told her you’d expressly forbidden it, she turned tail, fetched her habit, and rode over on Gerry.”
“The cart-horse?”
“Aye, and didn’t return till supper, she did.”
Marcus glanced over his shoulder. Evelyn sat primly in the carriage, looking at her hands folded in her lap, very obviously pretending not to hear the conversation happening just outside the door, even as her pursed lips and knit brow betrayed her concern. By god, she was a terrible actress. The collie puppy sat alongside her with quite the opposite comportment, head cocked as if doing its best to signal that it was eavesdropping.
Marcus looked back to the coachman with a sigh.
“And yesterday?” he asked with resignation, knowing the answer.
“Rode out on Gerry again. I suppose she reckoned he wouldn’t be missed, it not being a market day. I shared your instructions with the grooms, but, well… I apologize sir, I should have been cannier about it all.”
“And today?”
“She was still out when I left to come here, sir.”
“Right,” Marcus said, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Thank you, Murphy. I appreciate you telling me, as well as all your efforts.”
The coachman nodded, then turned and climbed back up onto the bench.
What a complete shambles.
Marcus climbed into the carriage, then shut the door behind him with more force than needed.
“Is everything alright?” Evelyn asked.
He heard Murphy call out to the team, felt the carriage jerk forward.
He sagged back against the seat, dragging his hand over his face. Wasn’t the point of this marriage to solve his problems, rather than serve him up a variety of new ones?
“No. Your brother’s addlepated widow is apparently embarking upon a very public and potentially ruinous affair.”
“Selina?” she challenged. “Why, I’ve taken issue with her familiarity toward Wright, but—”
“Did you not just hear? She’s left the house every day we’ve been gone, riding out to the manor on her own. Even when I explicitly forbade her use of the carriage for such jaunts.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened. “She wouldn’t.”
“How am I to take it, then? Surely she doesn’t leave to play the doting daughter-in-law. Why, I’d be surprised if your father was even aware of her presence.” Problems and possible solutions banged about in his head. “Has she no relations?”
“None to speak of, anymore.”
Marcus blew out another sigh. “I am sorry, but I don’t see any other option. You must accompany me to London. All three of you.”
Evelyn froze.
“I am well aware that this was not the understanding, and that we’ve already hashed it out for a second time. But Evelyn, I fail to see—”
“I will not, Mr. Hartley.”
Her eyes were lit with fire, her words wounded and thick with hauteur.
“Think of your niece,” he said sternly. “Surely she doesn’t deserve a mother with such a reputation.”
“I will handle it,” Evelyn said airily, reaching over to pet her collie.
