Page 43 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

Melbroke House, London,

The next day

I t was strange knocking on the door to the residence she used to share with her father.

The aftermath of the encounter with Richard’s uncle had been disconcerting.

She had gone back early to Aunt Theo’s with Isolde.

After a long, hot bath, she’d crawled into bed and managed to snatch some sleep.

She didn’t have nightmares exactly, but she kept waking up with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and then trying to ignore it long enough to fall asleep again.

In the morning, as she dressed, she kept thinking of Richard.

It was thrilling to be defended in that way, but she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t also frightened her to see him like that.

He was always so controlled, even when expressing his anger or frustration.

He had been in some kind of berserker rage fueled by years of insult and pain.

She wanted to comfort him but she wasn’t sure she could be in his presence when he was like that.

So instead, she went to her father to deliver his wedding invitation.

It was the same inside the house and yet, somehow, it felt entirely different.

Perhaps it was her that was different. Perhaps she’d grown used to the light décor at Aunt Theo’s.

“Elodia.”

She looked over and saw him coming out of the salon. “Hello, Father.”

“From the lack of baggage, I can take it that you are not coming home.”

“No.”

He nodded. Was he disappointed? She couldn’t tell anymore. “Then what can I do for you?”

“I am here to deliver this in person.” She handed him the wedding invitation, watching his face as he read the front of the envelope.

“Ah, very good.” He paused awkwardly. “How are you doing?”

“You mean because of the incident last night?”

He lifted his eyebrows and blinked. “Yes.”

“I’m well, all things considered. He barely left a scratch.”

“That is good. I cannot imagine what possessed him to try something like that.”

“Nor I.” For all his disgusting diatribes, Simon Thornfield hadn’t given a clue as to why he imagined he would be able to come for her. Did he really think that he would be able to assault her or ruin her reputation without repercussions?

Her father had said nothing further. Was it so far beyond him to invite her in to sit down? “I suppose I will leave then,”

“Oh, Melbroke, is that your darling daughter?” Lady Tremaine came out of the salon with exaggerated curiosity, as if she were already holding court in his house. The utter presumption.

“You have company, I see,” she said.

“I do.”

“Am I still company at this point?” she trilled, hooking her arm with his.

“For the sake of your reputation, I certainly hope so,” Elodia replied with a tight smile.

“Elodia was delivering a wedding invitation to me personally,” he announced.

“Did you need one?” Lady Tremaine asked.

“No,” Elodia said.

“Yes.”

Elodia and her father met each other’s eyes, their simultaneous responses lingering in the air.

“He didn’t need one,” Elodia said, “but I thought it was better to make the invitation explicit rather than risk further misunderstandings.”

Lady Tremaine smiled. It reminded Elodia of a snake she’d seen at the London Zoo when she was sixteen. “Very wise. You aren’t leaving, of course?”

“I do not wish to disturb you both.” And she had no interest in witnessing whatever nonsense they were engaging in.

“Oh, your father was about to leave on some business when you arrived. Stay and keep me company, won’t you? I haven’t had any time with you at all.”

Oh, Christ, the last thing Elodia wanted was to deal with that woman. Her gaze slid to her father who raised his eyebrows, as if daring her to decline the offer.

“Of course, if it would please you.”

“I will leave you both to it then,” he said, bowing to them and walking away briskly.

Then Elodia’s arm was taken hostage by Lady Tremaine, leaving her with no choice but to follow her into the salon.

She didn’t fully dislike her father’s prospective fiancée.

It was only that the woman was odd. She was certainly beautiful, with the womanly figure Elodia had always hoped for.

Something about her seemed more artificial than most. As if she had an agenda.

She smiled far too much and her smile was tense, almost angry.

“It was so kind of you to join me today, Miss Hawthorne. I must admit I was desperate to meet you properly at long last.”

Elodia took a seat and bit her tongue against the instinct to remind the presumptuous bitch that this was her father’s house. Her house. “It wasn’t a hardship.”

“I hope you are recovering well after that situation at your engagement party.”

Something told Elodia she wasn’t nearly as concerned as she wanted to appear. She’d leave her gloves on. She wasn’t staying here longer than was absolutely necessary. “I haven’t really given it a moment’s thought, to be frank. There was barely anything for me to recover from.”

“Yes. What a dashing fiancé you have, to thrash a man so soundly for a moment of indiscretion.”

A moment of bloody indiscretion? “It was rather more than that.”

“Oh, of course. I also meant to extend my apologies for you to find out about such an important life event so publicly.”

“You mean your pending marriage with my father?” Elodia clarified.

“Of course. I had no idea you and he had been at such odds.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s business, really.”

“I quite agree. And now you are both on the path of reconciliation just before you are meant to leave him behind forever.” Her smile was almost smug.

No doubt she’d been praying on it. “I don’t believe it will be as bad as that.”

“I’m sorry you already picked out your wedding dress all alone. A wedding dress is such an important affair. Almost the centerpiece of a wedding, honestly.”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t alone, was I?” Elodia replied.

“No?”

“No. Mrs. Thompson, Lady Starkley, my Aunt Theo and Miss Walsh assisted me.”

“Yes, but that’s not the same as having the benefit of proper guidance in your formative years. I suppose if you had been raised in England, you would have appreciated the difference. It’s hardly your fault.”

She was repulsive. “Yes, well, I’ve managed well enough despite it.”

“I suppose your poor mother wouldn’t have been able to give much advice.”

It took everything in Elodia to keep from slapping her across the face. “Meaning?”

“Well, she was a slave, wasn’t she?”

As if it had been her entire identity. “She was formerly enslaved. But every woman has her preferences, regardless of her status.”

“I suppose that is true enough. Have you picked out your trousseau as well?”

“I have.”

“Oh? My goodness, you are in a hurry. No particular reason, I’m sure.”

How many times was this woman going to insult her? “One. I want to be married to the man I love as soon as possible.”

“How romantic.”

“I see it rather as a practicality.”

“Well, I’m sure they guided you well, but a word of advice, my dear, if you’ll allow me.”

“If you insist.”

“You can never be too secure of a man’s affections; you’ll do well to keep his attention fixed on you. All of them have wandering eyes.”

“Rich—” Elodia caught herself. “Mr. Thornfield is a man of honor and integrity; he would never dream of betraying me in such a manner.”

“Oh, I never doubted it. However, loyalty should not become a hardship.”

“What are you implying?”

“No disparagement to you, my dear, but unless I miss my guess, your Mr. Thornfield is a man of the world. He’s travelled widely and tried more than most, so his appetites may be more varied than you can fulfill.”

“He chose me.”

“And a fine choice you are. Men used to variety can grow bored with it after a while, but it is in their nature to want more. You must make sure to keep his eyes on you at all times, lest they wander off and never return.”

He wouldn’t do it. She knew that. But she couldn’t pretend there was no truth to what she was saying. “What do you suggest?”

“It’s the small things, really; flattering hairstyles and fashion, of course.

One can be such a slave to what is au courant, but not every fashion is a friend.

” Her eyes flicked down to Ellie’s chest. “You would do well to make the most of what you have, even if it is less than ideal. Your face is pretty enough, but your figure, my dear, is not what is sought after. You must be aware of this.”

Yes. Only too aware. “Thank you for that input, Lady Tremaine,”

“Not at all. I had to do it myself when I was younger, to ensure that I was always presented in the best light. For example, as a true Englishwoman, I wouldn’t be caught dead in that color you have on.”

“Oh?”

“Oh no, my dear, it would have made my skin look positively sallow.”

“Ah.”

“Whereas your darker complexion suits it quite well.”

“And by that I take it you do not see me as an Englishwoman. Is that it?”

“Well, let’s not get too bogged down in the semantics. Either way, when I am your father’s new wife, I will rely on you to return this little favor.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, to enlighten me as to his preferences. His passions I can discover on my own.”

Bloody hell. She gritted her teeth and stood. “I will, of course, offer as much help as I can.” From as far away as possible.

“As will I.”

So this was the woman who was to replace her mother. How repulsive. “Good day, Lady Tremaine.”

“Good day to you, Miss Hawthorne.”