"I'm fine, Mother."
"You're not," she corrected in a tone that belied further arguments. "I knew something was amiss when you sent Elizabeth to Wesley Manor so abruptly. The poor girl's misery is palpable. As is yours. I've never seen you so angry and distraught." Her gentle blue eyes rested on his. "Your father and I suffered through many misunderstandings when we first wed-"
"This is not a misunderstanding, Mother."
He hadn't meant his tone to sound so harsh. She studied him for a moment before speaking. "I see. Well, I can only tell you that with great love comes other powerful emotions. When you love hard you fight hard." A sad smile curved her lips. "Your father and I did both."
Sympathy pinched him and he squeezed her hand. His father's sudden death had devastated them all, but particularly her.
"She is your wife, Austin. For the rest of your life. For your sake, and for hers, try to solve whatever troubles are facing you and make a happy marriage. Don't let pride stand in your way."
He lifted his brows. "It sounds as if you think that I am to blame for the problems in my marriage."
"I didn't say that. But you are experienced and worldly whereas Elizabeth is not. She is going to make mistakes, some serious, some not, until she gains her footing in the world she's now in. Be patient with her. And with yourself." She pressed a soft kiss onto the back of his hand. "She is the right woman for you, Austin."
"Indeed? Are you the same mother who was apprehensive about my marrying an American?"
"I cannot deny I had some reservations at first, but I've spent the last three weeks getting to know my daughter-in-law. She is a lovely, intelligent young woman and has the makings of a fine duchess. And she loves you. And I suspect you feel the same way about her."
She offered him a gentle smile, then left the room. Austin stared at the closed door and exhaled a breath. His family was going to render him a candidate for Bedlam. He needed to get out of this house. Immediately.
Before he could take one step, however, his mother's words crashed over him. She loves you. Pain and anger combined with a bone-weary sadness, slumping his shoulders. His mother, Caroline, Robert-none of them knew how wrong they were about Elizabeth's feelings. She'd managed to fool every member of his family.
And I suspect you feel the same way about her.
Groaning, he raked his fingers through his hair. Yes, damn it, he loved her.
But he'd gladly give up everything he owned to make the damn feeling go away.
Austin strode into his private study at ten the next morning and halted at the unwelcome sight of Miles lounging in a wing chair. Damn it, if Miles had it in his mind to take up where his family had left off yesterday, Austin was bloody well going to plant him a facer. The urge to hit something was strong, and with very little provocation that something could be Miles.
Miles looked him up and down then slanted a pointed glance at the mantel clock. "Ten a.m. is a bit early for dressing in formal wear… or am I simply not privy to the latest fashion trend?"
"I'm not on my way out," Austin said barely keeping his impatience in check.
"Ah. Then you must be on your way in. From where, I wonder? You're looking a bit ragged about the edges."
"I was at my club, if you must know." Austin made an exaggerated show of looking about the room. "Where is the rest of my esteemed family? Hiding behind the draperies?"
"Your mother and Caroline are visiting the jeweler. Robert and Elizabeth are also out-where, I do not know."
Austin strode across the study floor, paused at the decanters, then moved on. He'd had more than enough brandy at White's last night. And instead of finding the oblivion he'd sought, all he'd gotten was a wretched throbbing headache… and a loss of several hundred pounds at the faro table.
"You seem nervous," Miles remarked from his chair.
He halted and realized with no small amount of irritation that he'd been pacing. "I'm not nervous."
"Really? I've seen gentlemen poised on the brink of imminent fatherhood who were more relaxed than you."
Imminent fatherhood. The casual remark stung like salt on an open wound. Smothering a vicious curse, Austin walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. Staring through the glass with unseeing eyes, he concentrated on bludgeoning back the torturous images conjured up by the words imminent fatherhood.
He'd almost succeeded when his attention was snagged by a hired hack stopping in front of his town house. The door swung opened and Robert stepped out, his lips pressed into a grim line. He reached in and offered a hand and Elizabeth alighted. Her face appeared pale, her eyes huge.
Austin's fingers gripped the heavy velvet draperies. Where the hell had they gone? And why the hell had they taken a hack?
As he watched Robert again offered a hand assisting another woman down. She was small and thin, a dull brown bonnet covering her hair. When she turned Austin saw her face.
Black bruises surrounded her eyes, and her bottom lip was swollen and cracked. Recognition hit him like a plank to the head.
It was Molly, the serving wench, the whore, from the
Filthy Swine. God Almighty, what the hell was going on? Did she have information about Gaspard? Why were Elizabeth and Robert with her?
Dropping the curtain back into place, he strode from the room, ignoring Miles's questioning look. He arrived in the foyer just as the trio walked through the door. Elizabeth and Robert supported Molly on either side. The ragged woman looked about ready to drop to the floor.
"Don't worry, Molly," Elizabeth was saying. "Just a few more steps and you'll be settled in a comfortable bed. Then we'll take a look at your injuries."
"What the hell is going on?" Austin asked his gaze alternating among the three of them.
Molly visibly recoiled at his harsh tone and cowered closer to Elizabeth.
"It's all right, Molly," Elizabeth said. She looked at Robert. "Will you escort Molly to the yellow guest chamber and instruct Katie to prepare a bath? I'll join you in a few moments."
"Of course." Easily supporting the frail woman's weight, Robert led her toward the stairs.
Elizabeth turned her attention to Austin. "May I speak with you? Privately?"
"I was about to make the same request," Austin said in a tight voice. Recalling he'd left Miles in his study, he led the way to the library and closed the door behind them. He watched Elizabeth cross to the center of the room, then turn to face him. Her face was completely devoid of color, and her eyes appeared like haunted circles against the stark background. The need to draw her into his arms nearly overwhelmed him, angering him at his own weakness for her.
He approached her slowly, deliberately. He'd half expected her to retreat, but she stood in place, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes steady on his.
When only two feet separated them, he halted. God how he missed her. Her warmth and smile. The sound of her laughter. Forget that! It's over. Gone. She doesn't want you.
Hurt and anger pumped through him, but he schooled his features into a cold mask and simply waited for her to speak.
Elizabeth stared at her husband's icy expression and her already cramped stomach tightened further. His glacial demeanor indicated she faced a battle with him, and it was one she was determined to win.
Lifting her chin a notch, she said "I suppose you're wondering why Molly is here."
He cocked a single brow. "How astute you are. Yes, I would like an explanation, not only as to why a whore is in my town house, but also how she came to be here."
Elizabeth's temper flared. "I don't want you to call her that… word."
"Why? That's what she is."
"Not any longer."
"Indeed? What is she now?"
She had so many things to tell him, and time was short. She had to examine Molly, and then she had to prepare for a trip. There simply wasn't time for elaborate explanations. Searching for a suitable answer to his question, one popped into her mind and she seized it. "She's now a lady's maid. My lady's maid."