Compromised for Christmas (The Jennings Family #1)

45. Fitz

45

Fitz

S hite.

Fitz froze in the doorway of the room he’d been assigned at Madame Beaumont’s. Because the naked woman laying within the sapphire, canopied bed was not his wife. She popped up on her elbows and cocked her head, her light-brown hair fluttering. She studied him with large, curious, dark eyes. Clearly, she knew he wasn’t in the right room as well. Heat crawled up his neck and slapped over his cheeks.

“P-p-pardon. My ap-pologies.” He stumbled backwards and slammed the door shut.

He let his head fall to the door with a thud .

You bloody idiot, Fitz.

He would go to a brothel and accidentally walk into the wrong room. He had been assigned room 2A, and that room had clearly not been 2A.

He stepped back, gaze homing in on the plaque.

2A.

Fitz frowned. He shuffled about in his coat pocket and retrieved his card that had his room assignment. Room 2A. Well, that didn’t make a lick of sense.

Letting out a weighty sigh, he spun on his heel and made his way to Madame Beaumont’s office. Why could nothing ever go smoothly for Fitz? He couldn’t even apologize to his wife without incident. He hurried down the stairs, nearly skating to the bottom, and strode to the double doors at the end of the hallway.

Madam Beaumont’s office was a large, dark-wood paneled room with rich, burgundy velvet upholstered furniture, and a desk that would rival the one in his brother’s study. Which was where the Madame sat, quill in hand. Her head sprang up before he even made it through her doors, her deep-rose rouged lips splitting into a smile. She nonchalantly flicked back one of her loose ebony waves and put down her quill.

She rested her elbows on her desk, studying him, chin resting on her hands. “Mr. Jennings, how can I assist you? Is there something not to your liking with your rooms?”

“Yes, the woman.”

Her head jerked back, and she blinked at him. “You…are not pleased with your wife.”

He frowned. “Urm, no. What I mean to say is the woman in my room is not my wife.”

Her slim, black brows furrowed, and she sifted through some paperwork on her desk. “Room 2A, was it not?”

“Yes, that is the room I was assigned.”

She pulled out a paper and scanned it, tapping her lip. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped in a small “O”. She glanced at him. “Oh, dear.”

Fitz’s pulse sped up. “What happened?”

Her brows pinched, and she grimaced. “It appears there was a slight mix-up. It appears your assignment was accidentally switched with someone else.”

His assignment was switched? Did that mean…

“I promise you, sir, this has never happened before. I have just hired a new assistant, and it appears they will not be long for employ here. This is completely unacceptable. I assure you we will make this up to you. Tonight is free of charge, along with another visit as recompense.”

He waved her apology off. He just needed to know what this meant and where his wife was. “What do you mean, my room was switched?”

“It means you and another gentleman were assigned each other’s rooms.”

Fitz’s eyebrows shot off his head. Another man was going to his wife’s room right now? Another man was going to walk in and see his wife—possibly naked? He started backpedaling out of the office, his heart drumming a chaotic rhythm in his chest.

“What room?” he barked out.

“Room 3B.” She glanced down. “It appears your assignment was exchanged with the Duke of Ironcrest.”

His heart fell out of his chest. What? He took off at a run.

Dear God, he had just sent his wife to a brothel and presented her with everything she had ever desired on a silver ducal platter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

His chest heaved as he made the climb to the third floor, but he barely noticed. He didn’t need air, every part of him too focused on getting to his wife. Before he was too late. HE bared his teeth. If the bastard touched her, Fitz would cut the man’s bloody hands off. He snarled. He’d disembowel the man and he would revel in it.

And after that, he was having words with the Madame. Because this was completely unacceptable. Inexcusable.

He slid to a stop and slapped a hand on the wall next to the plaque. 3B.

He threw open the door.