Page 31 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“Lady Locksley.”
“Lady Locksley?”
Oh, dear Lord, had he already forgotten who she was? She stepped around Mrs.Barnaby. “My lord—”
“Ah, yes.” He held up a gnarled finger. “Lady Locksley. If she wants the keys, Mrs.Barnaby, give them to her.”
“But she’s not the marchioness. She’s not the lady of the house.”
“She is my son’s wife. He manages our affairs now, which makes her the lady of the house. Give her the keys.”
“We don’t know what she might do with them.”
“I suspect, Mrs.Barnaby, that she’s going to unlock a door.”
“I could do that for her.”
“Obviously she wants to do it for herself. It is not our place to question the viscountess, so hand over the keys.”
With a mulish expression similar to the one she’d given Locksley the day before, Mrs.Barnaby unhooked the ring from her waist and held it out toward Portia, who took it, feeling as though she’d just won something significant.
“I need them back,” Mrs.Barnaby said, looking as though she were on the verge of weeping.
“Yes, of course. I’ll return them later this afternoon.”
With a harrumph, the housekeeper marched from the room.
Portia tiptoed over to stand nearer to Marsden, although he’d given his attention back to gazing out the window.
“I’m sorry we had to disturb you with that little misunderstanding,” she said softly.
“Mrs.Barnaby is a good soul but she is set in her ways. She’s gone a long time without a mistress to answer to, considered herself the mistress of the household. My fault as I never corrected her. Damage was done by the time Locke finished his travels and settled in to take care of things.”
“It’s not a problem. She and I shall work things out and get along just fine.”
“I’m sure you will, my dear.” His gaze drifted back toward the window.
Portia sat in a chair opposite him. “We missed you at breakfast.”
“You and my son need time alone to get to know each other better. I saw him ride out earlier, going to the mines I suspect.” He winked at her. “Did he give you our heir last night?”
She supposed when one got to a certain age, he no longer felt the need to censor his tongue. “I fell asleep.”
A stunned expression crossed his features. “I thought he’d have more enthusiasm, be more virile. I didn’t think he’d be so sloth-like that you’d be able to go to sleep as though he wasn’t even there.”
She released a self-conscious laugh. “No, that’s not it at all. He was preparing a bath after his journey onto the moors. I was waiting for him and drifted off.”
“Ah, and he was too polite to wake you.” He shook his head. “A man shouldn’t be that polite on his wedding night. Prepare yourself. He’ll be twice as randy tonight.”
Her cheeks grew so warm she was surprised they didn’t ignite. She had a need to turn the conversation away from being bedded by his son. “Are you searching for your wife?”
He shook his head. “She doesn’t come out during the day. Sun doesn’t agree with her. So I just wait, watch the shadows move with the daylight, lengthen as it weakens, until the darkness brings her back to me.”
“You loved her very much.”
“She was everything. Still is.” He wrinkled his nose. “She gets angry at me. Says I wasted my life. But Ashe, Albert, and Edward all married for love. Even if Albert and Edward married the same woman.”
She knew that Albert had died and Edward had married his brother’s widow in Switzerland, which had created quite the scandal among the peerage.
