Page 44 of Wedded to the Cruel Duke
She knew she should have brought her notebook, but it had been a moment’s impulse that had brought on this visit and she was a tad bit unprepared.
Besides, it was her particular penchant for noting everything in her notebook that got her into this mess. She was not so keen on repeating that same mistake.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As Phoebe lingered far longer in Townsend House to hear what Daphne had to teach her in the art of flirting, she had no idea just what had transpired at Wentworth Park in her absence.
When she walked in through the back door, at half an hour past six, with barely enough time to spare to change for dinner, she was surprised to find that all of the servants, including Amelia, had been summoned to the foyer by Charles himself.
What in the world is going on?Phoebe thought to herself as she cautiously approached the scene.
Charles was pacing the length of the carpet with his broad back to her. His dark, curly hair looked as if he had raked his fingers through it countless times so that it had become a tousled mess that made him look even more devilishly handsome than he already was. His icy blue eyes blazed with a cold fury—if such a thing could even be possible.
“You mean to say that none of you have even seen the Marchioness leave the grounds?” he growled, turning to face the servants all lined up before him. Every single one of them looked rather pale and anxious.
Even Huxley was not spared the wrath of her husband, and he had been in service at Wentworth Park ever since Charles had come to the country estate.
“You!” he turned towards the poor butler, who admirably maintained his composure despite his wan complexion. “When was the last time you saw the Marchioness?”
“I came upon her just as she was leaving Your Lordship’s study,” Huxley replied in a soft and measured voice, as if he feared that the slightest change in intonation would set off his master’s fury. “She…appeared rather piqued, if I may say so myself.”
“And did she say anything to you, then?”
The butler shook his head. “Not to me, milord, no. She did mutter something under her breath.”
“And what was that?”
“That she shall not countenance being imprisoned in the manor.”
Phoebe stiffened when she heard what the butler said. Shehadsaid those very words, but more to herself and out of annoyance than anything else.
“And you did not find this peculiar?” Charles questioned him harshly. “That your mistress would deem herself a prisoner?”
The butler shook his head again. “Well, considering after last night—”
“What about last night?”
“Well, considering how Your Lordship left the dining hall last night, I thought that perhaps you and the Marchioness were not in accord…”
That particular sentence invoked a strange hush upon everyone gathered.
As Phoebe looked on at Charles, noting the stiffening of his shoulders and the way he clenched his jaw, she could tell that her disappearance had affected him greatly. She felt her heart flutter in her chest as she stared at the man before her, who was clearly distraught in spite of his cold appearance.
“Well then, it is a pity you have not considered that she intended to run away from me!” he growled.
At his words, Phoebe felt her heart clench in her chest and decided that things had gone on too long.
“Well, Huxley would never be so silly as to think I would run away from you, My Lord,” she announced, walking towards him with a bright smile on her face.
Charles whirled around, the expression of shock on his face nearly causing Phoebe to giggle before it melted into fury.
“You!” he muttered. “Where have you been? Did you know that I have turned the entire estate upside down looking for you?”
He might be furious because she disobeyed him, but Phoebe could see the worry and fear shining clearly in his eyes.
And the relief to find her standing before him.
“I know that you must be angry with me,” she told him softly, reaching out to place a placating hand on his tense arm. “But if you must take me to task, I hope you would not do it in front of the servants.”