The Fox: in his Henhouse (The Dubious Mates #1)

Chapter 40

CHAPTER FORTY

E ventually the Enrights had, of course, sent an invitation. One did not refuse the Duchess of Allendale and her son. Though Wells suspected they’d delayed their invitation to do some ascertaining of their own, no doubt anxious to determine why, exactly, the Duchess would leave her card.

And it appeared the Countess of Denbigh was still endeavoring to determine this as she sat across from Wells and his mother in the lady’s own front parlor, nervously fidgeting over the tray of tea she’d rung for, as if weighing her words.

“Your Grace, my lord.” She broke with pleasantries, pinching a smile at Wells and the Duchess. “If I may, to what do we owe this unexpected honor?”

The Duchess smiled charmingly. “Why, to enquire after your granddaughter, Lady Enright. Surely you’ve heard my son is in search of a bride.” Maman’s smile dazzled as Wells, beside her, stiffened.

Lady Enright’s brow furrowed. “We have heard rumors to that effect.” She paused. “Though I admit I am confused by your interest, as my granddaughter, at barely sixteen, is not yet come out. Unless, of course, Your Grace wished to secure his lordship an engagement two years hence?”

Wells found the lady’s grasping repulsive.

“Ah,” his mother answered, coming into her own. “I’m afraid you misunderstand, Countess.” The Duchess’s smile now menaced. “I was referring to your eldest granddaughter, not your youngest.”

The lady frowned again. “Forgive me, Your Grace, I have but one granddaughter, my daughter’s youngest, Miss Mercy Pendrake.”

“You have three,” Maman informed her sternly, “and it is the eldest we have come to discuss.”

Wells was by now actively shooting daggers at the woman seated across from him, daggers which made the lady’s lined face appear almost to fold in upon itself.

“I can assure you I do not,” Lady Enright stated coldly.

“I assure you, madam, you do .” Wells’s patience broke. “I intend to marry your eldest granddaughter, Miss Charles Merrinan, and have received permission already from her father, Sir Benedict. I have come here out of respect to Miss Merrinan only, to inform you, her mother’s family, of my intention. For once it is announced, Countess, you will be forced to recognize your late daughter’s children, because if you do not, I can assure you as future Duke I shall no longer recognize you .”

The woman’s countenance paled a shade as she rapidly began to ring the bell, calling for smelling salts and her husband, the Earl of Denbigh, to attend her at once, at once !

The Duchess, meanwhile, smoothed her skirts and patted Wells’s knee, making him for once grateful for her presence. She would know how to handle the rest of this conversation. He could count on her to make things right now for Charles, and in so doing, make things right for him.

Wells had never been so fond of Maman as in that moment.

“Charlotte,” Madame LeBrecht intoned, “I can assure you the gentleman in question is a most wealthy, most generous man whose offer, should you prove pleasing, is to keep you in absolute comfort.” Her eyes abruptly narrowed. “You do know what that means, don’t you?”

Charles was stunned but not shocked, imagining the gentleman who’d fondled her legs the other day now had other intentions. “Yes, Madame , I am aware what?—”

“Then you will surely take him up on his offer, as it is not something a woman in your position dismisses lightly.”

“I have no desire to be another man’s mistress, madam.” Charles was equally firm. “I was Lord Wellesley’s mistress long enough to know exactly what the position entails.”

Madame LeBrecht hissed at her. “Then you will not be so foolish as to forgo this opportunity, girl, not when I tell you what will happen if you do not.”

Charles’s ire flared. “If I do not?” she parried. “If I do not, then I shall leave your establishment, madam. I shall find employment elsewhere.”

“No, Charlotte.” Madame’s hiss had turned to coo. “You will be forced to continue working for me, only not as shop girl here to my messieurs , but as an altogether different sort of girl at my other establishment, a house that sees more frequent and far less sophisticated clientele .” The lady’s eyes burned a hole into Charles’s soul as fear began to gnaw in the pit of her gut—fear that she attempted to control.

“You cannot make me work for you here, or elsewhere, madam,” she countered, chin up.

“Can’t I though?” The lady snapped her fingers and immediately two forbidding strongmen emerged from the shadows of the room, men Charles had not even known were at the shop.

Her fear grew into full-blown panic.

“So what shall it be, Charlotte?”

The two men already flanked her sides, standing terribly close.

“The fine gentleman who wishes to keep you in great comfort, or the many gentlemen who will be less gentle when they sample your wares at my other shop.” Madame’s eyes glittered savagely.

Charles’s heart sank. She’d no choice but to submit. In an hour or two the chance to flee would perhaps present itself. But not now. She was not so foolish as to tempt fate and be cast into what she could only presume was this woman’s cathouse.

“Very well.” She savagely stared back at the woman seated so smugly before her. “I shall endeavor to please the gentleman in question.” She bit her lip. “But I shall not forget your treatment of me, madam.”

“I daresay you won’t, Charles .” A faint smile played at the corner of the lady’s mouth. “Nor will the gentleman, no doubt.”

Madame rose from her seat and snapped her fingers again, causing both men to grab hold of Charles.

She struggled in their grasp.

“Simply a precaution against your bolting, chérie ,” Madame told her. “And to make sure you’re delivered to the gentleman’s rooms forthwith. Remember, you are to fulfill his every wish, obey his every desire, for if he chooses not to keep you, I shall keep you for myself.”

And with that, Charles was dragged from the shop and stuffed into a carriage, to be delivered God only knew where, and to whom. A fate far worse than being caught stealing chickens.

Wells had to admit, his mother had handled the Enrights with aplomb. They’d agreed to welcome both Charles and Eleanor back into the family, even agreeing to outfit Eleanor with a trousseau—provided she returned to London to live with them. Wells was certain Charles’s sister would decline the offer; he also chose not to divulge Eleanor’s betrothal to his steward. He still needed to speak with Father as to how the hell he should go about knighting John.

On the carriage ride back his mother was remarkably quiet as she stared out the window at the rain-drenched street.

“Thank you, Maman .” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I am in your debt.”

“Nonsense, Roland.” She finally looked at him. “You love her, don’t you.” It was more statement than question.

“I do, Maman .”

“Then I am happy for you, son, for marriage is not easy.”

He was surprised by her candor.

“Promise me you will treat her better than you have, dear.” Her eyes focused on him. “She’s not had it easy for some time now, nor has her sister, and for all my pushing you to take a bride I . . .” She inhaled a breath. “I do not wish you to imagine all women are like me.”

“Whatever do you mean, Maman ?”

“I mean that I have not been unhappy with your father, Roland, only we were not in love when we married, so it was easier to forgive the other our many failings.” She looked out the window again. “Oh, I love the old bugger well enough now, the way one loves an old horse, you know.” She grinned a little crookedly. “He’s had his mistresses and I my lovers and we get along well enough but you . . .” She shook her head. “If the girl truly loves you, you’ve the capacity to hurt her much more than your father ever could have hurt me, you see.”

And he did see, rather suddenly.

“So I would beg you, son, tread carefully now. Ask for her hand properly, court her a while if necessary. Let her know she is not your second or third choice but your foremost. She must know she is wanted, Roland, desired above all others. I don’t care how stubbornly she may refuse you at first.”

He patted her hand. “You have given me sound advice, Maman , which I aim to take. I do not wish to hurt her more, yet I am still not certain she returns my affection in full. And I must be certain before I?—”

“How could she not, dear?” His mother reached out to touch his cheek with her other gloved hand, a rare sign of tenderness for her. “But clearly, you must know this for yourself, I understand.” She dropped her hand and withdrew the other to straighten her skirts. “I shall look forward to the announcement of your engagement, son, provided you do nothing so rash as to disappoint me.”

And she was back, the mother he adored despising.

“Oh I am sure I will, Maman .” Wells grinned, shocked at the sudden affection he felt for her.

The grin she returned him mirrored his own. “No doubt you will, Roland. No doubt indeed.”

Yet the warmth Wells felt towards his mother was soon eclipsed by remaining, needling doubts. As he gazed out the window of the swaying carriage, insecurity gripped him like a vise. He did not doubt his love for Charles; he doubted the very plan Li had helped him form. Should he trust his old friend’s counsel, or trust his mother’s words instead?

The carriage hit a rut, further jostling his thoughts as a small voice whispered he was not worthy of love. He was desirable only as future Duke. Despite Eleanor’s staunch assurance, Wells feared Charles did not, in truth, return his full affection. She might not love him, Roland Rutherford, at all.

As Cuthbert had so bluntly reminded, she was not the first woman to have run from him.