Page 61 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“Oh, actually … I rather wanted to be alone. Forgive me, but I need my own company at present. I have something of a headache and need the peace.” She turned to walk away, eager to find Edward in the garden so that they could talk. Even if what he had to say was bad news, she would rather his company in any capacity rather than Arthur’s at all.
“Well, in which case, I shall accompany you in perfect silence so you may have your peace.”
“Arthur, please –”
Yet he had buttoned his lip and gestured to the garden, clearly having no intention of letting her walk more than two steps away from him.
***
“Where is she?” Edward muttered aloud, striding up and down in front of the statue of Venus. His jealousy shot through him like white-hot fire. To have seen that man pawing at her that morning at breakfast, repeatedly trying to take her hand and serve her breakfast for her, oh, it was sickening to him!
“She is not a poor pup. She is a woman,” he hissed aloud and marched back the other way, his breath heaving so much that his shoulders rose and fell with each passing movement.
He came to a sudden halt beneath the statue as he pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat and checked the time. He had been waiting here for an hour for her.
She is not coming.
Sudden disappointment welled in his stomach, and he sat on the plinth beneath the statue. He closed his eyes, his heartbeat drumming in his chest as he recalled the way he had made love to Juliet the day before. He saw her smile, heard her moan his name, felt her hands upon his bare chest, and how she had lovingly laid her fingers in his hair at one point, pulling on the tendrils.
“Juliet,” he whispered as his eyes opened again. He should have asked her to marry him then before this man, this Mr Arthur Pensky, had a chance to turn up and cause trouble.
Edward raised his head and peered at the pathway, but he couldn’t deny it to himself any longer after waiting an hour for Juliet. She was not going to come.
“Ah, Lord Ashton, is that you?” a sudden voice startled him, and he turned around to see Lady Violet’s husband, Viscount Boulder, coming towards him, with a group of other men following behind. “I find you alone today. Is all well?”
Relieved to be talked to by someone in Juliet’s family with kindness, Edward stood and forced a smile.
“Yes, you find me in need of distraction, I’m afraid.”
“Then come with us.” Viscount Boulder gestured for him to join their walk. “We are heading to the village for an explore this afternoon.”
“And what would your father-in-law make of the invitation?” Edward asked with a grimace, already fearing the answer.
“Perhaps nothing good.” Viscount Boulder practically matched his expression. “But I believe in forming my own opinions. Join us, please.”
Edward glanced once more at the empty path, but Juliet was plainly not coming.
“Thank you. I’d like that.”
Chapter 19
“What is going on?” Philip walked towards the party on the terrace, but Edward caught his father’s arm and stopped him at once.
He had not long been back from the walk with some of the others to the village and had come upon the party in the garden at the same time as his father. A group of younger people in the party were playing croquet, and Edward’s chest jolted with excitement when he saw that Juliet was amongst them.
That same feeling vanished abruptly when he saw Mr Pensky at her side, trying to instruct her on how to use the mallet. When she glared at Mr Pensky, Edward felt some relief.
Evidently, she was not particularly enjoying his company.
“Release me, Edward,” Philip ordered. “Do you not see what I see?”
“I do.” Still, Edward did not release his father’s arm as his eyes slid towards where his mother sat in the group on the stone terrace in the garden with other ladies. She was sharing a pot of tea with none other than Lady Clarence, and the two were talking together. For a change, there was no other in their conversation, but they spoke directly to one another. “I see my mother smiling, Father.”
Philip shrugged off Edward’s hold but no longer made the effort to walk forward. His nostrils flared, and Edward was rather reminded of a bull tempted to charge.
“She knows we have no business with the Clarences,” Philip hissed once more.
“They were friends once,” Edward reminded his father, taking his arm once more and steering him towards the garden. There was an empty table where some of the men were beginning to gather to join the tea, and Edward thrust his father towards them. “You and Lord Clarence may have argued, but did your wives actually ever argue together?”
