Page 113 of To Pleasure a Prince
Regina blushed. Their argument had been heard by every servant in the house, a mortification she’d had to live with for days. And if Marcus had sent a letter…that couldn’t be good.
Katherine bade the servant enter to give Regina the letter. When Regina took it, it was heavier than she would have thought. Her heart sinking, she broke the seal and opened it. Two keys fell into her lap.
Perplexed, she stared at the letter, one short sheet of Marcus’s bold scrawl.
“Shall I read it for you?” Cicely asked.
She wanted desperately to say no. Much as she loved and trusted her cousin—and Katherine, too—she hated having either of them read something so personal. But it would take her half a day at least to puzzle it out herself, especially with Marcus’s poor penmanship. Besides, he had to know she’d be asking Cicely to read it. So it couldn’t be terribly personal.
Her heart sank further. “Yes, please read it,” she told Cicely, handing it over.
Donning her spectacles, Cicely began to read. “ ‘Dear wife, I heard that you are staying with my friends. Forgive me for not making it clear, but I never intended for you to be without a home. I’m enclosing the keys to the town house. You may go there with Cicely if you wish.”
Regina moaned. “He’s making this banishment permanent, drat him.”
“I don’t think so,” Cicely said hastily. “He writes, ‘Please tell the servants to prepare the house for Louisa and me. We’re arriving in town tomorrow.’ ”
Regina’s heart began to race. Had he come to his senses? But then why send a letter and not come here himself?
“Tomorrow?” Katherine exclaimed. “He thinks he can just trot into town as if nothing happened, and you will welcome him with open arms?”
“There’s more,” Cicely said. But before she could go on, an irate voice sounded from downstairs.
“I don’t care what the devil you say—I know she’s here. Now call my sishter…sister…down here this minute, or I’ll bloody well…I’ll bloody well…I’ll go looking for her.”
“Oh, dear,” Cicely muttered. “Simon is here.”
Katherine frowned. “He sounds drunk, too.”
“Regina!” Simon called up the stairs. “Damn you, Regina, come down here!”
“Drunk or insane,” Regina muttered as she rose and hurried to the door. She moved to the stairs and glowered down at her brother. “Go away!”
Simon stumbled up a step. “I’m not going ’way until you tell me what’s going on.”
Hewasdrunk, for heaven’s sake. And Simon rarely drank at all. Two footmen appeared to grab his arms, and he began to struggle. “Let go of me, you asses! I’m here on state business. State business, I tell you!”
State business?
They started dragging him toward the door.
“It’s all right,” Regina said. “Let him go.” This was too odd to ignore, especially on the heels of Marcus’s announcement that he was coming to town.
The footmen released him, and Simon steadied himself clumsily, straightening his coat and grumbling under his breath.
She continued down the stairs. “What are you doing here, Simon? I thought you had gone to the country.”
“Because of what Iversley said? Hell, no. I’m not running away. Let your bloody husband call me out. Just let him. I’ll take his bloody head off.”
“You’re not capable of taking anyone’s head off at the moment.” Grabbing him by the arm, she steered him to the parlor.
“Fetch His Grace some cold water,” she called out to a footman. Perhaps if she dunked his head in it—
“I’m fine.” He snatched his arm away. “I can walk by myself, damn it. And why are you here? You’re supposed to be keeping your bloody husband occupied.”
“Unfortunately, that became impossible after you tried to abduct his sister,” she said coldly. “That’s when he got angry and banished me from his home.”
“What?” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Can’t be. You’re supposed to come, too. And that wouldn’t make sense. Not if he’s angry.”
