Page 79 of Ironvine

Mrs. Townsend’s searing gaze landed on him. “Oh, I suppose we should be grateful that the present Earl of Ryvves deigned to marry his dead brother’s slut?”

“Mother!” Thomas’s eyes widened.

“You are angry that she undermined your scheme to use her for your own benefit,” Charles said through gritted teeth. “You are angry that you could not control her.”

“Duplicitous schemes are the hallmarks of you Montclares. Every single one of you.” Her contempt and spite were as scorching as the flames burning before them and as thick as the black smoke polluting the air.

“Mother, please.” Thomas gripped his mother’s arm. “I beg you, stop.”

She only shook him off and moved closer to Charles. “One night with you and your brother indulging her base instincts and she selfishly turned against her family.”

“You have said quite enough, Madame.” Charles’s voice was loud and firm. Georgina fell lax in his arms, burying her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her tightly. “You will stay away from me and my wife. You are not welcome at our home, either here or in town. If, one day, you come to your senses and wish to make amends to Georgina—”

“Amends? I?” Mrs. Townsend’s voice exploded. “Oh, not I.”

“Yes, amends for what you have done today, for the vile things you have said.”

“Oh, you impudent, unprincipled blackguard. Villain!”

Thomas’s back shot up, a hand in the air. “My lord, please forgive her. With recent events, you can understand our mother is in a state of shock.”

“Do not apologise to him,” Mrs. Townsend muttered.

“I care not what you think of me or my family, Mrs. Townsend. My only care is for the welfare and well-being of my wife. That is all.” Turning away from them, he led a listless Georgina back to their carriage.

Securing her in the seat, he climbed on next to her and picked up the reins. Her hiccuping breaths twisted in his heart. He bid the horses forward, and they charged down the drive. “There is nothing here for you any longer, Georgie. Nothing.”

ChapterThirty-Five

Charles

Charles’s horsessped away from Fairthorn, but the smoke remained in the air.

“I never ever expected this sort of thing from my mother. Such hatred, such cruelty.”

“She is a bitter woman. And it seems she’s hated my family for quite some time.”

“I have no idea why…”

“Now her daughter has married the devil himself.”

“I’m sorry, Charles, so sorry for all the awful things she said to you.”

“They are nothing to me, and you have nothing to apologise for.” He urged the horses on faster, his posture straightening. “I shall buy you all new things, anything you wish…everything you wish…clothes, shoes, hats, ribbons, and books.”

“None of those matter to me like my sketches and my father’s letters. The small paintings he’d brought me from his trips.”

“Of course.” His shoulders tightened, and his chest flared with heat. He couldn’t bear to see her so distraught. Such violence perpetrated against her by her own mother was an enormous shock. All her life, she had felt safe and secure and rooted in her family at that house. No more.

Now all of that was gone.

“We shall go tomorrow to the tailors’ and choose the grandest toilette for you.”

“I’ve already done that with Justine.”

“We shall order more and more. I wish to dress my Countess of Ryvves as her spirit dictates.”

She only tilted her head, water filling her eyes. “You are so very generous with me,” her voice was just above a painful whisper.

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