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

Chapter 42

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“ A re you ready to hear me now?”

Wells was poised at any moment to prevent Charles from flinging herself from the moving carriage. She remained drawn into a ball and curled into a corner of the carriage seat across from him, wrapped in naught but a thin robe over her wet shift, her red-gold locks damp about her shoulders.

“I have no interest in anything you have to say.” Her words were terse. “I ask only that you drop me at the Wayward Inn on Rector Street. I also demand the return of my dress tomorrow first thing.”

He nearly laughed to hear his Fox remain so practical in the midst of so much chaos. For this was chaos, he knew; it was critical he now court her—woo her—properly.

“I shall fetch your dress, yes, but the Wayward Inn is no place for a respectable young lady.”

“Then where, pray, do you intend to bring me?” She glared at him something fierce.

God, did he love this woman.

“To your family, Miss Merrinan, where you rightfully belong.” He removed his suit coat, leaning across the divide to drape it over her. She was surely chilled, nor could he deliver her to the Enrights looking quite so disheveled.

“I have no family in London, sir, so unless you mean to transport me in this carriage all the way to Cumberland, I believe you must be lying to me, yet again.”

“Charles, I’ve never lied to you, lass.”

“Don’t you dare pretend to be honorable, Lord Wells, when you know full well you are not .”

He sighed deeply, having known she would be difficult, just not this difficult. “Charles, though you do not wish to hear it, I believe an explanation is in order now, before you are further shocked by what awaits you next.”

Her eyes, if possible, grew only larger.

“I have been in London nearly as long as you, I believe, having left but a day behind you. Your sister grudgingly informed me you meant to make a life for yourself here, and as I feared for your safety in this godforsaken city, I left immediately to find you.”

Wells took another breath; he would speak honestly after all he’d put her through. He must. “I also left in haste for the sole reason that I am desperately, madly in love with you.”

She opened her mouth to reply but promptly closed it—and her eyes—as if to shut him out.

He deserved no less.

“It has not been easy—finding you or loving you—but I will leave both those stories for another day. Suffice it to say, I took it upon myself to visit your mother’s family, the Earl and Countess of Denbigh, and after some convincing on the part of my own mother, they’ve agreed to welcome both you and Eleanor back, guaranteeing your well-being while you remain in London.”

Charles’s eyes flew open as she shook her head, chewing her bottom lip as if she wished to chew off his head. It did not seem humanly possible that he should infuriate her more, yet apparently he just had.

God help him.

Wells rushed to explain before she could voice her protest. “I realize you may not wish to resume contact with your grandparents, Charles, but given the circumstances, it is your safest option. As an unwed and unchaperoned young lady, you can hardly remain with me while in London, and certainly not while Miss Mowry still resides with Maman . Nor can I decently house you with any of my own acquaintances, being as they are admittedly, well, unsavory sorts.”

“Like Madame LeBrecht, I presume?” She skewered him with her gaze.

“Yes,” he answered. “I will tell you Miss Li’s story one day, Charles, and you will better understand her, I am sure.”

Her voice was cold. “I will not stay with the Enrights, my lord. I will not set foot in their house.”

“I’m sorry Charles, but for the time being you’ve really no choice.”

“I have every choice!” She tried to stand but sat down just as quickly when the wheels hit a rut. “Return me to the Wayward Inn at once, Lord Wells, or I will?—”

As she reached for the door handle Wells grabbed her bodily to him and deposited her firmly into his lap, the carriage still chasing London’s backstreets towards the Denbigh residence.

In his arms, her body vibrated tension.

“Fox.” His lips brushed her ear, relishing the feel of her again as he tightened his grip. He held her damp form close, until she gradually, ever so slightly relaxed. “I am sorry I must return you to the Enrights when I should like nothing better than to take you straight home with me, to my room, and keep you there forever. Because I have missed you so desperately these past weeks, I have worried so about your welfare, it is near killing me to deliver you elsewhere. But Charles, I have vowed to do right by you now, which means restoring your position in society and the freedom and honor that position grants you. I’ll not steal you away nor force you to my bed. But nor will I see you do further harm to yourself, love. You cannot remain in London near penniless, staying at some dump of an inn with hooligans and whores and all manner of?—”

“Disreputable types like yourself, Roland?” she mumbled into his chest, snuggling closer.

“Yes.” He gave her a squeeze. “I’ll not see you ruined, Fox.”

“You ruined me long ago, sir.”

“Charles . . .” His voice caught.

“It doesn’t matter.” She went limp in his arms, the exhaustion from the past few hours—of weeks past no doubt—seeming to drain her of all sense. “Nothing matters anymore but that you have captured me again, my lord, though surely I do but dream you now.”

He could feel her breaths slow, knew well the cadence of her sleep, and hugged her to him, relishing this brief chance to possess her before he must give her up and fight all over again to win her, this time, for good.

Wells had carried a sleeping Miss Merrinan into the Earl of Denbigh’s townhouse, his finger pressed to his lips so that no one wake her. Inside, he had deposited her gently upon a bed, allowing a maid to tend her. Then, once downstairs, he was ushered into the parlor and met by the Earl and Countess, both of whom wore expressions of grim disbelief. He asked for a drink, was given a stiff one, and proceeded to seat himself in one of their uncomfortable wingbacks in order to spin them a believable yarn.

“Lord and Lady Enright, my apologies for the late hour and unusual manner in which I have just delivered your granddaughter, but I have only just located and removed her from deplorable living conditions the likes of which I’ll forbear divulging for fear you might not withstand the horror.”

The Countess grew frightfully pale at this.

“I can assure you Miss Merrinan’s honor remains intact, but barely so, for the hands into which she fell would surely have ruined her had I not arrived when I did. Her appearance bears testament to this fact, though I am certain you will do your utmost in the coming days to comfort and outfit her respectably.”

He met the Earl’s panicked gaze with stern reproof. “I needn’t remind you both that it is in no small part your own neglect of your granddaughter which led to her deplorable circumstances. The poor girl had neither the means nor connections anymore in London to ensure her safety, and I find it inconceivable that her own family should have allowed such disregard to continue these ten years past, resulting in the state I found her in tonight. I expect that in the coming days you will do everything within your power to repair the harm done her, and that you will not, I repeat, will not ever speak to her about the events leading up to this night. As I declared before, I have every intention of marrying Miss Merrinan and will call upon her daily not only to court her properly, but to ensure she is treated with the respect and deference due a daughter of the Enright line.”

He leveled both gaze and words at the Earl and Countess. “For if I find your treatment of her anything but impeccable, I will personally see to it that your own reputations, and that of every Enright family member save the Merrinans, be destroyed. Have I made myself clear?” He continued to stare at them both, satisfied by their cowed expressions to conclude his message had been received.

“My lord, I believe we understand you perfectly.” The Earl bowed his head in deference. “We are, of course, deeply aggrieved by the hardship our granddaughter has endured.”

Wells merely downed his glass and got up. “Miss Merrinan can expect me tomorrow at three.” And with that, he showed himself out.

Once back inside the carriage, he expelled a long breath, allowing himself to hope that all he’d set in motion would now pay off. Come morning he would pen several letters, not least of which would be to inform Eleanor Merrinan that her sister had been found and, God willing, would now be kept safe.

Ellie tore into the letter from London.

Miss Eleanor,

It is with great relief that I report your sister safely delivered to your grandparents, the Earl and Countess of Denbigh. By now you should have received word from them, I hope, expressing remorse at having denied you these many years past. I realize you may well have no desire to accept a reconciliation, but would urge you to at least resume contact while Charles remains in their care. I could find no other solution than to restore her to her kin here in London, since my aim is to woo her now with the respect she rightly deserves. Charles will either wed me willingly, or I shall die trying; I can only pray your sister takes mercy on me.

“Father!” Eleanor shouted from the kitchen. “He’s found Charles! Lord Wellesley has found Charles and means to marry her! Oh thank God. Thank God he’s found her and she’s all right.”

She hurriedly scanned the rest of his letter.

You may write directly to her at the Enright address, as I am sure she will have a word or two to share regarding how I found her in London. And I would ask you take what she reports with a grain of salt, Eleanor, for the truth shall come out with time, and, I hope, explain my actions. Please know that my intentions towards your sister remain honorable. If only she would believe me in this.

It is my heart’s desire to return to Cumberland with Charles my bride, in as short a time as possible, though I cannot predict how long it will take your sister to relent, if ever. I have written to Cuthbert that he join me post haste. He is to be knighted and made my squire, so it is in your interest, Eleanor, to ensure John arrives in London as quickly as possible, wearing one of my spare suits, that beard of his trimmed. I insist on it.

May God keep you and your father in good health.

Your humble servant, Roland Wellesley

Eleanor sat down again to reread the letter, smiling and crying at his lordship’s words. She didn’t care two shakes about her grandparents, but to know Charles was fed and housed in a decent part of London . . . She shuddered to imagine where Lord Wellesley had found her sister. There would be much to discuss when she saw Charles again. Much indeed.