Page 24 of Taming of the Rake
“I’m fine,” she called out.
A short hesitation, and then, “Are you certain? Mr. Graham didn’t … I just want to know you aren’t hurt, or …”
The uncertainty in his voice made her chest constrict, her heart aching for the man who’d stood by for years with no choice but to keep his silence while Randolph treated her like a possession to be toyed with, broken, pieced back together, and shattered anew. He had shown her kindness whenever he could—offering cold compresses for her bruises, finding ways to distract Randolph when it could be managed so she could escape to her rooms, ensuring the other servants kept their silence about what went on within the walls of this house.
“He did his job and I am no worse for wear,” she said, trying to inject strength into her voice that she didn’t feel. Powell would never leave her be otherwise.
That seemed to satisfy him, because he merely bid her goodnight. As his heavy footsteps carried him away, Regina released a sigh of relief and resumed her fetal position in the center of the bed.
Sleep eluded her for near an hour, as each time she closed her eyes she saw David on top of her, arching and groaning, the thick column of his neck stretched taut, lips parting to reveal his clenched teeth. That sound echoed in her mind in a continuous refrain that left her both confused and intrigued.
The last thing she needed was to become intrigued by her courtesan. He was here for one reason only, and she would not lose sight of that. He was, after all, a man. From her father and brother, to the husband who had tormented her every day of their eight-year marriage, those she had trusted most had turned out to be cold creatures incapable of love. She would not let her courtesan’s air of politeness and veneer of gentleness fool her into trusting him. Randolph had been courtly and chivalrous, tricking her into falling in love with him—or rather, what Regina had thought to be love. Time had proven her wrong, and her infatuation with a man she’d barely known had been shattered mere hours after the wedding. She would never make such a mistake again.
All she wanted or needed of David Graham was his seed, and the sooner it took root the sooner she could put him out of her life, and her mind, for good.
Regina had just satdown to her breakfast the next morning, bleary-eyed and fatigued from a night of tossing and turning, when a footman announced a visitor. Spoon hovering over her teacup, she sucked in a sharp breath when she realized who had intruded upon her peace and solitude.
She exchanged glances with Powell, whose fists had clenched at his sides as he glared at the open door as if sensing the threat lingering beyond.
“Should I get rid of him?”
Staring longingly at her breakfast, Regina decided she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it until she confronted the intruder. “That will not be necessary, Powell. Though, I would be grateful if you’d accompany me.”
He fell in step behind her without a word, palpable tension radiating from him. Regina tilted her chin up and straightened her back, pasting a serene expression on her face before entering the morning room, where Tobias Hurst awaited her. He whirled away from the mantel, where he had been inspecting a collection of porcelain figures. The breath was knocked from Regina’s lungs as their gazes clashed, the cold, dead eyes of her late husband boring into hers.
No … not Randolph’s eyes. Randolph is dead.
Still, the resemblance was uncanny and it always unnerved her to stand in the presence of a man who could have passed for Randolph in his youth. Dark hair not yet kissed by silver at the temples, rigid features, a short yet broad-shouldered frame … her cousin-in-law should have been a handsome man. But, cruelty and malice were too apparent around his mouth and eyes, just as they had been in Randolph’s. A shudder of revulsion washed through her, and her stomach turned.
“Tobias,” she murmured, keeping her head held high and her tone cool. “How … surprising it is to see you this morning. I had not expected to see you again so soon.”
He sneered while reaching into his coat, coming out with a crumpled sheet of paper—a letter. She raised an eyebrow in silent question, though she could very well guess what had brought Tobias to her doorstep.
“Do you think to make me a laughingstock?” he demanded, the letter rustling as he waved it through the air.
Regina blinked, pretending to be confused by his outrage. “Why, Tobias, I don’t understand. We are family, even if only by marriage. Why would I ever want people to laugh at you?”
He advanced on her, but a low, warning snarl from Powell drew him up short. Tobias sputtered and reddened, glaring at her servant, though he was careful to maintain his distance.
“This must be some kind of joke. Surely you cannot think a man of my status should live on such a pittance each year. It’s preposterous.”
Regina ground her teeth, wishing Randolph had left her penniless. She might not have had anywhere to go or a penny to her name, but at least she wouldn’t be saddled with Tobias, whose funds she was now responsible for.
“Considering what your allowance was under Randolph’s management, I would think you might consider my offer a boon. It is more than you were getting before.”
And more than you deserve, you graceless blowhard.
As if he had plucked her unspoken words out of thin air, Tobias held up the letter from her solicitor and ripped it in two. “Don’t think for a moment I cannot see what has happened here. You inheriting everything he ever owned makes no sense, and we both know it.”
“I was his wife.”
Tobias snorted and rolled his eyes. “And how much did that mean to him if he couldn’t even bother to keep to your bed?”
Powell sucked in a swift breath, and Regina felt as if her molars would be ground to dust if she didn’t stop clenching them. It seemed the only way to keep from telling him just where he could shove that letter, as well as his opinions about her, her inheritance, and her miserable marriage.
“If you are unhappy with your yearly stipend, might I suggest finding employment?”
Tobias’s face went as red as an apple, the destroyed remnants of the paper falling from his hand. This time, Powell wasn’t quick enough to stop him before he took hold of Regina, one hand wrapped around her upper arm. A cry of alarm died in her throat as he hauled her toward him.
