Page 57 of The Viscount's Seduction
Kincaid chuckled, a rare enough occurrence that Bakeley knew the coughing was a ruse.
“I’m waiting.”
“You are so like her.”
“Like Sirena?”
Shaldon waved his hand. “Like your mother. Never would let me get away with anything. Even when I was on the Continent, her wagging finger followed me. No foolishness, Shaldon, she would say, and I’d see her in my mind’s eye.”
He snorted. “I fail to see—”
“I didn’t see it either. Didn’t see how well you managed in my absence after she was gone. I didn’t trust your judgment, and so you didn’t trust mine, did you? If I said go, you looked for all the ways to stay. If I said buy, you investigated selling. You became a contrarian, Bakeley.”
Heat rose in him, but he kept his manner cold. “Indeed.”
“And then I learned that Lady Jane had come to town with the late Earl of Glenmorrow’s daughter. I had visited that estate once.”
The hair on Bakeley’s neck prickled.He’dvisited Glenmorrow also?
“She was far too young to remember me. She’s grown into a lovely woman, like her mother. Her father was an affable fellow then. Not yet broken.” He handed Kincaid his glass. “Get me another, Kincaid.”
When Kincaid returned, he quaffed the shot. “So Lady Sirena came to town. Hackwell’s Annabelle liked her well, as did Paulette.” He thumped the chair arm and stared at the fire. “And, of course, Jane. The family’s problems didn’t jade the girl, though they easily could have.”
His mind swirled and his head buzzed, but it was the only noise in the quiet room. Very well. He’d been manipulated by the crafty old Spy Lord. In the end, he’d been maneuvered into marrying the wife his father had arranged for him.
He went and got another drink. There was no rush to consummate a marriage so carefully managed.
“Bakeley.” His father’s voice sliced through him. “You wouldn’t have married her had you not wished to. This marriage was your decision, and your doing. I simply made sure you met the lady.”
And told me to stay away from her. And there was the matter of the assault at the docks.
“She could have been killed yesterday. Did you know about it?”
Shaldon nodded.
“Were you behind her assault?”
“Most emphatically no.”
He set the glass down untouched. His father was right, too much drink would dull his senses, already sapped by too little sleep. He’d gone after the forbidden fruit, and he was damn well going to partake of it. “I thank you for this little father-son discussion. I believe we’ll set off for home.”
“I should like very much for you to return to Shaldon House after your honeymoon. Your sister is not entirely content with playing the political hostess and this will be a very lively session, I do believe, with both of your brothers in the Commons.”
Bink certainly would vote for lifting the more onerous of the Six Acts, and Charley might be amenable to siding with their brother. He himself would not have a place in Parliament, not yet, but as the manager of a grand estate and network of commercial interests, he could still exert influence. It remained to be seen how Sirena’s role would play out.
And then of course, there was the man his father wanted to trap.
“Sirena as your hostess, Father?” He tried to picture her at the foot of the great dining table, and shook his head.
Could that wild girl from Glenmorrow’s stable play that role? Would she be willing? Should he give her the choice? Certainly, the small stable behind Shaldon House would be a forceful lure for his horse-mad bride.
“You will, I hope, give us a few days for our honeymoon before Sirena must begin fêting politicians and luring radicals.”
Shaldon eyed him shrewdly and said nothing.
His hair rose. He must be on his toes. And he must get his new bride to their bed, before his father set another plan in motion. “We’ll decide on our arrangements after the honeymoon.”
As for Donegal...
