“Let us continue, Rachel,” he said. “Mrs. Poulson, you are excused.”
Chapter 12
The tick of the clock seemed overly loud. “Surely you didn’t mean it,” Rachel murmured, breaking the silence that had fallen in the wake of Poulson’s departure.
Instead of returning to the game, as he’d indicated, Lord Druridge had gone to the brandy decanter and poured himself a drink. She could see the starkness of his visage as he stared out the window. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
It was a simple, imperious answer. He wasn’t used to having his commands questioned. But this was madness. “Lord Druridge, I cannot take Lady Katherine’s quarters. Imagine how far word of this… odd arrangement will spread.”
“Let people wag their tongues.” When he turned, there was a hint of defiance in his demeanor. “It wasn’t as if I didn’t try a more circumspect arrangement.” He lifted his glass. “I trusted you to the care of my staff, and look at you. After only three weeks, I return from London to find you about to faint from hunger and fatigue.”
“While you have come back so very well rested?”
His eyes narrowed at the tartness of her words. “You speak frankly.”
“I am who I am. Putting a uniform on me doesn’t change that.”
“Apparently not. Anyway, I sleep when I can.”
“Will you sleep any better by having me next door?” She had made it clear she would not be his whore, and he had said he didn’t expect it. Was he breaking that promise? Why else would he put her in Katherine’s rooms?
“Perhaps I will,” he said.
“And what do you anticipate in return for your generosity?”
“Nothing you won’t be able to freely give.”
“There will be a door adjoining our bedrooms,” she pointed out. “I’ve cleaned this entire wing many times and know all the rooms well.”
“That door you may keep locked as you see fit.”
Had she heard him correctly? “Then what will my duties include?”
“You will spend your days however you like.”
“Not without work. Surely you jest.”
“If it pleases me to make your life easier, I will. You read, don’t you? I have an extensive library. You can spend your days in there. Or hold classes for the household staff, if you want, teach them as you’ve taught the miners. Other than that… you must know how to do some sort of needlework. Isn’t that what ladies do in their free time?”
“But”—she floundered for words—“how long do you see something like this working?”
“Until your hands have healed and better arrangements can be made.”
“I see.” So it was temporary. That eased her mind somewhat, but there was still the other matter Poulson had referenced, something to do with the Duke of Pembroke. Rachel couldn’t even begin to guess what that was about, and yet it worried her. “I appreciate your generosity, my lord, but you really must put me in a more modest room.”
“Where? In the other wing of the house, where you will be alone? Or back with the servants who will resent you too much to show you the least bit of kindness? Or maybe you meant this wing, but closer to Wythe?”
She saw his point. None of those choices sounded appealing. Fortunately, he didn’t wait for her response.
“I am done with finding you in dire straits, Rachel. It is better to keep you close.”
“But putting me in Katherine’s rooms will…” She let her words drop off because she couldn’t think of an inoffensive way to say what was on her mind.
“You’re suddenly unwilling to speak up?” He slanted her a look with his sarcasm that said he could hardly believe it.
She drew a deep breath. “It will seem to confirm to everyone who has wondered… that your wife never meant too… much to you, my lord.”
“I can’t say she did, not toward the end.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Maybe not even toward the middle. It wasn’t long after we were married that I realized I could never love her.”
Sometimes he was too honest for his own good. “I wouldn’t admit that to anyone else, my lord.”
“But my secrets are safe with you? Someone who believes I fired Blackmoor Hall? Someone who hates me more than my usual assortment of enemies?”
“I don’t…” She wanted to say “hate you,” but was afraid such an admission might reveal just how much her feelings had changed. “I don’t think you fired Blackmoor Hall.”
A wry smile twisted his lips. “Is that so? And what evidence has brought you to my side?”
“I didn’t know what kind of man you were when I made that accusation, only what I had heard others say.”
“Those ‘others’ included your parents—reliable sources, wouldn’t you say?”
“Perhaps they were equally misguided. But, be that as it may, we do have to deal with certain realities. We both have enemies, my lord.”
“Now that my enemies are your enemies, you mean.”
“To be honest, I am more worried about your friends.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “My friends?”
“If you make my life too easy, Mr. Stanhope and Mrs. Poulson will be waiting for their revenge. And when you are ready to cast me off, they will have it.”
He tossed back the rest of his drink. “I will take you to London and put you in service there, if need be. Until then, you will fall under my protection. In return, I ask for only one thing.”
She swallowed hard. Could she deny him anything? She was completely at his mercy. “And that is?”
“That you meet me here whenever I request your company.”
“To divert you by playing chess.”
With a slight bow he said, “If you prove to be a worthy opponent, yes.”
She motioned to the chess set. “Then allow me to prove myself up to the task.”
Although he insisted she eat before they could start the game in earnest, once he was satisfied she couldn’t take another bite, he settled himself across from her.
The game lasted two hours and was one of the most difficult Rachel had ever played. When he took her queen, she was sure she would lose. He was a far better player than her mother had been and wiggled out of every trap. But she got lucky and managed to corner his king.
“Checkmate,” she said with a huge rush of relief.