Page 14 of Starlight and the Duke (Cherish and the Duke #5)
She nodded. “I wonder what he’s done to the place? Poor Lord Wembly became too infirm to manage the estate on his own and allowed it to become severely run-down. It must have been close to a ruin by the time he passed on.”
“Did he have no heir to help him out?”
“Oh, yes. He had several nephews just waiting for him to take his last breath, all of them worthless. The one who inherited Wembly Walk wasted no time in selling the beautiful property to Milbury.”
“You just called it a ruin. How beautiful could it have been?”
“It was beautiful, Rob. Even with a crumbling house. The land was the asset—good farmland and a magnificent view of the sea.”
The ride was short enough that Rob could have driven the two of them over in one of Fiona’s rigs. But he was being a brute about it and wanted Milbury to remember that he was the duke and the marquess was below him in rank.
Truly a jealous baboon thing to do.
But so what?
The boys rushed out to greet him and Fiona as soon as their carriage drew up under the portico. Rob’s ill humor faded, for these boys had a charming innocence about them, even if they were little devils and—gad, they were now discreetly leering at Fiona.
She did look exquisite. However, he would have to punch their father if he looked at her in the same way his boys did.
Fiona subtly kicked him.
Milbury hurried forward to greet them. “You must forgive me if I seem a little out of sorts. My sister arrived today and I have been trying to settle her in. Welcome reinforcements,” he said with a laugh that sounded sarcastic to Rob’s ears, “for my boys have me at my wits’ end.
My wife was the one who took care of our children and handled all other domestic matters. ”
“And now your sister shall?” Fiona asked.
He nodded. “For the moment. Not certain how that will work out. Come onto the terrace and I’ll introduce you to Cordelia.
We’ll have drinks out there and then we shall move indoors for our supper, since the gnats will eat us alive otherwise.
Lady Shoreham, would you care for a tour of my home later? ”
“We would love it,” she replied, although Milbury had offered the tour only to her. “I can see already you have made vast improvements in the home.”
“Wembly, the poor sod, had not done anything to it in almost fifty years. I considered tearing down the entire structure, but my architect assured me the bones were solid. So we’ve brought it up to current living standards and given the old girl an uplift.
New paint. New windows and doors. Revived the floors.
Fixed the leaks. Secured the roof. Got rid of the vermin. New drapery, wallpaper, and furniture.”
They walked through the parlor and onto the terrace while Lord Milbury spoke about his new home. “The floors are all part of Wembly’s original construction. They held up remarkably well and only required scraping, sanding, and a fresh coat of polish. Ah, here is my sister, Lady Cordelia.”
Rob thought Milbury’s sister appeared quite severe, as she was dressed in an unflattering gray silk gown that seemed to dull her luster, assuming she ever had any of it to start.
He could not see her as a luminescent beauty even in her younger days.
Her hair was also severely drawn back without a trace of style or softness.
But he bowed politely and muttered an insincere compliment. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Cordelia.”
“You as well, Duke,” she intoned rather flatly, looking down her nose at him.
Yes, definitely severe.
Milbury, while chattering, had mentioned his sister was younger than him by several years.
She seemed to be about forty, only a few years older than Fiona.
But she looked far more advanced in age, perhaps because she was bitter and unhappy, as though life owed her more.
Her hair was beginning to turn gray and her face looked sallow.
There was anger mingled with resignation in her eyes, and a disapproving tension in the tight purse of her lips.
Nothing like Fiona. Fiona could have turned one hundred and thirty-eight and still had sunshine in her smile and a starlight sparkle in her eyes.
Rob gave her credit for attempting to interject gaiety into the evening, for she was lively and could talk the hind legs off a donkey if the situation required—which it did tonight, since Lady Cordelia said hardly a word as she glowered at Fiona throughout their meal.
At first, Rob chose to give the lady the benefit of the doubt and credited her silence with fatigue.
But as the evening wore on, it became obvious the woman was jealous and resentful of Fiona.
The few comments she made in response to Fiona’s attempts at pleasant conversation were snide and condescending.
When the marquess stepped away a moment to make certain his boys had gone to bed and were not up to any of their mischief, his sister chose that moment to show her hand.
“Do not expect to be welcomed here again,” she told them both.
“I see what is going on between the two of you. Lady Shoreham, if you believe you can convince my brother to marry you and still keep up your tawdry liaison with your companion , then you are sadly mistaken.”
Rather than be insulted, Fiona took it quite humorously.
However, she would not allow the woman to sling her barbs at Rob.
“If by my companion you mean this valiant duke who saved the lives of your nephews yesterday, then let me assure you that I shall never give up his friendship. Make of it what you will. But I think your brother and his boys see him clearly for the quality gentleman he is. I would tread carefully if I were you, or you might find yourself booted out of Milbury Hill before you’ve had the chance to unpack. ”
“We shall see who is the one cast out of here.”
The harridan began to quote the Bible, referring to Babylon, the mother of harlots, and an abomination of the earth, all the while staring at Fiona.
Gad, the sister was a loon.
“Let me take you home, Lady Shoreham,” Rob said, having had enough of this puritanical drivel, and deciding it was better to leave before Fiona no longer found the insults humorous and decided to declare all-out war on this shrew.
Perhaps Lady Cordelia would not have been so rude to another pretty woman who came to visit her brother.
It could be that her venom was reserved for Fiona because of the timing of it all.
Milbury was obviously interested in Fiona, and the sister, having just arrived, was not ready to have her place as lady of the house so quickly usurped.
Nor was Milbury as doting as his boys toward Fiona. But he had been casting her speculative looks throughout their meal. He had also been the soul of politeness toward Rob and appeared to enjoy their lengthy conversations.
However, Rob knew the marquess also had to view him as competition. To Milbury’s credit, he had been an excellent host and too much of a gentleman to show him any disdain, assuming he held any. The fellow seemed decent and genuinely grateful to Rob for saving his sons.
“Yes, let your paramour take you home,” Cordelia said, holding back nothing while her brother was out of the room attending to his sons.
“I do believe you have worn out your welcome here, Lady Shoreham.” For good measure, she cast Rob a look of disgust. No doubt she viewed both of them as rubbish to be tossed out along with the table scraps.
Who was this wizened crone to pass judgment? Honestly, he was so tired of these holier-than-thou pillars of Society and their undercurrents of disapproval. He had precious few days left with Fiona and did not wish to waste any more evenings in unpleasant company.
Fiona was the soul of amiability as she wished Milbury a good evening when he returned. “A most enjoyable supper, Lord Milbury. But I have an early morning meeting with my estate manager and will be dead on my feet if I do not retire at a decent hour tonight.”
“Ah, then I do apologize for ducking out a moment to look in on my boys. I could have left them to themselves for a short while longer while I basked in your lovely company. But I expect we shall meet again soon, for I have been invited to dine at Northam Hall next week. I understand the Duchess of Bromleigh is a dear friend of yours.”
“Yes, quite dear to me,” Fiona responded. “I look forward to seeing you then. As for your boys, it is wonderful they have a father who cares for them as you do.”
“You are too kind, Lady Shoreham,” he said, bowing gallantly over her outstretched hand.
Outside, Rob assisted her into his carriage and climbed in after her.
He let out a groan and loosened his cravat once they were on their way back to Shoreham Manor.
“What a spectacular waste of an evening,” he muttered.
“Milbury is decent, I suppose. But that sister of his—blessed saints, what a bitter, old hag.”
Fiona remained silent.
He leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”
“She cannot be more than five years older than me. Is this what I shall become?”
“You? Like Lady Cordelia?” He eased back with a shudder and laughed. “No, that will never be you. Not in a thousand years. That woman was born cheerless and filled with bile. You were born smiling and sweet as sugar.”
Fiona laughed. “Hardly. You know I can be quite sour at times.”
“You? Sour? Never. Indignant, perhaps.”
“Well, call me indignant, then. I wanted to poke her in the nose for what she said about you.”
“Who cares what she thinks of me?” He arched an eyebrow. “I can defend myself, you know. I am no longer three and in need of you to come to my rescue. Although I did enjoy envisioning your leaping across the table, fists raised, ready to pound Lady Cordelia into pudding.”
“It felt good to get in a huff on your behalf.”
He reached over and took her hand. “You were very elegant in giving her a set-down.”
Fiona laughed again. “Liar. You must have been wincing the moment I opened my mouth. But I really disliked the way she looked down her nose at you.”
“I was irrelevant, and you know it. Her venom was aimed at you, for you are the real threat to her status. I hated the way she thought herself better than you.”
“Oh, do not get incensed on my behalf. I rather liked being considered a shameless harlot who cavorts with younger men and gets away with it.”
“Do not make light of it, Fiona. I did not like her insinuations or accusations one bit,” he said in all seriousness, but made no further comment on that, since they would fall back into the discussion of his desire to marry her. “That woman borders on the deranged.”
“Oh, I think it is more that she is jealous and afraid.”
“Someone to be pitied rather than feared? Let’s hope it is merely that.”
“I think her brother realizes it was a mistake to invite her to Milbury Hill and will arrange for her departure very soon. Rob, will you have a talk with him and let him know what she said to us? Not that I wish to upset him, but he needs to be made aware what went on outside of his presence.”
“All right, if you want me to.”
She nodded. “I do, for the sake of his boys more than anything. It is better if he hears it from you.”
The staff had retired for the evening by the time they returned to Fiona’s manor.
While she ran upstairs, Rob made certain to lock the front door and check the ground-floor windows and doors to make certain they were sealed tight.
He knew Simmons must have done this already, but he was feeling rather protective of Fiona at the moment and saw no harm in making the rounds himself.
Out of an abundance of caution, he checked each door and window twice.
When finished, he strode upstairs and went directly to her bedchamber, for he felt the urgent need to take her in his arms. Even though Fiona had not cared about the insults hurled at her by Lady Cordelia, they had affected him on her behalf.
Fiona had donned her nightgown and robe by the time he joined her. She was seated on a stool beside the hearth, brushing out her hair and humming softly while awaiting him.
Heat and longing filled him as he watched her run her brush through those glorious tresses, and another pang of longing gripped him when she noticed him quietly standing by the door and her expression immediately softened.
“Rob? Are you all right?” She set her brush aside and rose to come toward him.
No, he wasn’t all right.
He was hurting badly because he wanted to do the honorable thing by her and felt the passage of these days with an urgency that burned into his soul.
Their nights of intimacy would end soon, and he was not prepared for it.
Wordlessly, he shut her door and lifted her into his arms to carry her to bed.