Page 29 of The Governess and the Brooding Duke
Blackwater scowled. ‘Come now, don’t be like that. I’m certain that we can find a joint business venture that will benefit us both. It’s understandable that you’ve been blue-devilled these past months.’
They made conversation for a while longer, and West was not certain when he had begun to find it so tedious to even pretend to entertain ideas he didn’t care about. Perhaps, as Blackwater said, he was blue-devilled. Perhaps his ability to bear this sort of thing had died with Jane. She had always been gracious, even to those who didn’t deserve it.
It was another thing he’d been drawn to in her. She was so warm, even when those around her were cold.
Even when he was cold.
The men slowly filtered out of the parlour and he went to pour himself a brandy. He looked at the clock. It was five minutes until the time when he would have met Mary. Miss Smith.
He poured himself a measure of amber liquid.
God in heaven, but she made his blood run hot.
He could not, he had just tested this, manufacture interest or concern where he did not possess it. And he could not prevent his all-consuming obsession with her.
West put the brandy down and found himself walking out of the parlour towards his study. Perhaps he might find her there.
Or, at the very least, he would find her note.
He moved close to the study door and heard the sound of voices, one male, the other a woman’s. Low and angry.
Mary.
He pushed the door open to find Pelham had her backed up against a bookcase. He moved forward, rage propelling him, when he saw Mary pull a knife out of her corset and hold the blade up against the edge of the man’s throat. ‘I asked you kindly to leave.’
He froze, as did Pelham, who turned to look at him, his whole body stiff.
‘Do you see this?’ Pelham asked. ‘Do you see...? Tell her to stop.’
‘What were you doing, Pelham?’
‘It’s nothing. A bit of light conversation that she...’ He coughed. ‘Lower your weapon.’
Mary’s lip twisted upward. ‘Step away from me.’
She held the knife out, her expression immovable, and Pelham removed himself, taking two steps back and nearly tripping over his feet as he did.
‘God’s teeth, keep that bitch away from me.’
West strode forward and grabbed the man by the collar. ‘Leave my house,’ he growled, before releasing him, causing him to stumble again, and he was damned lucky West hadn’t chosen to land a facer on him.
‘Your Grace...’ Mary said.
‘Not you,’ he said. ‘Pelham, you will leave my house now. If you are quick about it I will not offer an explanation to your travelling companions. But if you tarry I will make sure to announce to all of them that my governess had to pry you away from her at knifepoint.’ There was no legal recourse for such a thing, of course. Mary was the one likely to be arrested and charged.
He had walked in on what many would call nothing more than a miscommunication.
But he knew. He knew that if he had not been there...
No. Mary had saved herself.
He had, perhaps, saved Pelham.
‘We thought we needed you,’ said Pelham. ‘But no one will be doing business with you. You will do yourself out of money with your moral code, West. And how superior will you feel to the rest of us when you have your elevated title, and not a penny to spend?’
‘I will sleep better than I would if I exploited children, women, for my own pleasure. My own game. I refuse to do that, for all the wealth on earth. And I will sleep just fine with those standards, thank you.’ He rang his bell and his butler, Barrows appeared. ‘Barrows, please escort Lord and Lady Pelham out of the house. You may give them a carriage to see him safely back to London.’
‘Yes, Your Grace,’ he said.
