Page 55 of Lady Fiona's Tall, Dark Folly
Chapter 14
He flipped open his watch piece and marked the time. His mother was five minutes late.
He sighed and considered the pale green of the lawn. The weather was as cool as his heart. Still, his mother would not talk with him, despite his note. His plea, he was astonished to see, had fallen on deaf ears. Never had he known his mother to be stubborn or intemperate. This new facet to her character sapped his energy. But he had decided how to cope with her silence. He demanded it and told her he would leave for Bath, whether or not she came to him to talk. If she still would not come to him, then he would bring Fifi here and let affinity and love melt the barriers of discord.
"I am here, Rory."
He turned to find her, standing upon the withdrawing room carpet, her hands folded before her, her hair up in elaborate curls in a spring muslin of pink and green. "Thank you."
She scanned the room. "You called for refreshments?"
"I did. I know how you like your sweets with tea."Just like my darling Fifi.
A ghost of a smile crossed her heart-shaped face as she swept into the room and sat before the tea service. "I shall pour."
He clasped his hands behind his back, relief momentary as he searched her posture for signs of her disposition.
She performed her duties with the tea and handed him his cup and saucer, then she sat back to take up her own. But she did not look at him. "I owe you an explanation, Rory. And I will give it."
"Your happiness is of utmost importance to me."
"I know it. You have always been considerate."
"I had excellent examples, Mama."
She nodded and locked her gaze on his with bright anger. "So you did. Your father was a virtuous man."
"And you have shown me the right of ethics."
"And therein is our problem." She swept a hand over her skirts...and her hand shook.
He would not draw her out. She'd come to speak, to reveal—he hoped—her objection to his marriage and he had no idea how to help her. But he would not coax her either for fear of repelling her and sending her scurrying once more to the confines of her rooms.
"When your father and I first married, we lived in the London house."
Rory knew this. His father was already third earl of Charlton when he'd met and married. At that time, all the entailed properties in London, Somerset and York were available to him. But the newly wedded couple had chosen to live in the main house on Green Park because they both liked parties, the theater and their social set.
"We knew each other very little when we married. Drawn to each other by heaven knows what—charm, laughter, poetry—it was love. We married within two weeks of meeting at a ball."
Rory strode to the fireplace and faced the flames. Impatience was not a characteristic he valued, but he wanted to be done with this.
"One evening, your father and I were invited to a ball at the home of the earl of Marlton. Your father knew the earl. They belonged to the same club. They had stock in the same shipping companies. We were late. Everyone always goes to those things as they will. We'd danced a few sets and I excused myself to seek out the retiring room. Marlton House is large, dauntingly so and I was lost. In the hall, I saw the earl headed toward me and I asked him for directions. He offered to accompany me and led me up the stairs and into a room."
She stopped and grabbed a breath. "The room was not the retiring room for ladies. No. It was a bedroom. Small, no sitting room. But a bed. A dressing table. An escritoire. I entered with the earl close behind me and I expected him to leave. Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I. I was nineteen, a new bride, and the only man I'd ever known intimately was your father."
She cleared her throat.
Rory feared what was to come.
"He pushed me to the bed. I rolled away. But he caught me. And he laughed. He either praised me for my looks or cursed me for my ability to escape his hands. I will spare you the blow-by-blow. I do recall each one. I've not forgotten a moment of the terror. I will tell you that Marlton was powerful, more than I, certainly. Powerful, insulting and brutal. He was able to pin me down and rip my bodice. I'm not sure how, perhaps he was well-gone in drink, but I fought him and hurt him.There.He fell away from me and I scrambled from under him. He caught me and threw me against the door. But I somehow some way got it open...and I screamed for help even as he dragged me back. A footman came running. Sutters."
Sutters!Rory had known him all his life as the long-serving butler of this house. The man died while Rory was in Spain. Sutters. Dear God.
"He was newly employed in Marlton's household and had no idea of the true nature of his master. He saved me from Marlton, hurried me away and pushed me down the back stairs to the still room near the kitchen. Then he went in search of your father." She looked out upon the lawn, forlorn.
"Your father came for me at once, called for our carriage and off we went home. I had a broken wrist, bruises and a black eye. Upon seeing that, your father was a wild man. He wanted to challenge Marlton to duel. I begged him not to. My god, he was my husband and new, and I could not live without him. So I feared the worst. At a time like that, he thought of his honor and revenge. I thought only that he could die at the hands of the animal that Marlton was. Don't ask me how, but your father heard my pleas. And he devised a different plan."
Rory strode to her and sat down beside her. Then he took her hands in his. "So he never—?"
