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

Chapter 44

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

A t precisely three o’clock that afternoon Wells knocked upon the door of the Enright residence carrying a profusion of purple hyacinths and a parcel under his arm. He had shaved and dressed smartly, looking, he hoped, every bit a proper suitor. As he was ushered into the drawing room, he debated briefly running screaming in the opposite direction, but he swallowed his pride and steeled himself to receive a certain lady’s wrath. That Charles should be angry with him would surely prove to be an understatement.

Seeing her seated primly on the sofa in formal dress, her hair done up in the latest style, was a small shock. She looked nothing like his Fox yet was absolutely stunning.

He swept into a low bow as she curtsied in return, accepting his bouquet with barely murmured thanks before handing it to the footman who placed it in a vase. Then he handed her the parcel.

“I believe this belongs to you, Miss Merrinan, as requested.”

“And my other belongings, sir, at the inn?” she reminded tersely.

“I’m afraid those were no longer retrievable, miss. The inn had already let your room to another.”

“ Blast ,” she swore softly enough only he could hear.

“My lord,” Lady Enright entreated, “won’t you please join us? Charles and I were about to take tea.”

“I had hoped to take a turn about your gardens with Miss Merrinan, Countess.” He stared pointedly at the lady. “As the weather is so pleasant today.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She ignored his plea, making him itch. “Perhaps after tea, Charles, you would like to show his lordship the courtyard garden?”

“Of course, Grand-mère, though you shall have to remind me where it is, being, as I am, a stranger to this house.” Her eyes locked onto her grandmother with a look Wells appreciated; she was still his cunning Fox beneath her newly coiffed exterior.

“Oh, it has hardly changed since you were last here, dear.”

Charles’s expression remained unyielding.

The Countess continued unperturbed. “My granddaughters used to love to run about the courtyard when they were children, my lord. It was their favorite pastime when visiting.”

***

“That is because Papa preferred the outdoors to anywhere inside this house,” Charles reminded her grandmother, inwardly incensed. “We followed him wherever the poor man sought refuge .”

Her grandmother did indeed wince, shooting Charles a glare.

Charles ignored her. “And what brings you here, today, Lord Wellesley?” She cast him a withering look. “Checking up on me, or simply here to gloat?” She did not like what she saw. His beautiful curls had been trimmed short, ridiculous mutton chops now decorated his cheeks, and a sharp-tailored suit made him look like every other London dandy. This was not the man she knew.

His lips twitched, as if he were amused. “Why, I am here to call formally upon you, Miss Merrinan, as Lord and Lady Enright have granted me permission to court you. I shall visit every day now, to pay you the honor and respect you deserve as my intended.”

“And why was I not included in this discussion, sir?” Charles wanted to punch his smug face. “I do not recall giving your lordship the impression I desired your courtship in the least.”

“Oh I beg to differ, Miss Merrinan, as you have given every impression in past you were most keen to receive my attentions.”

The rotten man made her blush, for his eyes perused her body in a manner so brash he clearly imagined other parts of her blushing too.

“My lord, you take bold liberty with your words, for I have given you no reason to?—”

Her grandmother cut her short. “Ah, here’s our tea now, thank you, Tom.” The Countess barely glanced at the footman. “Do you take it black, Lord Wellesley, or in the usual?”

“Black, thank you.” He turned again to Charles. “Miss Merrinan, regardless of how you may presently feel towards my person, I assure you my intention remains resolute. I will court you now until such day as you accept my suit.”

“You pompous arse, Wells,” Charles said before she could even think not to.

The Countess let out a gasp while his lordship laughed heartily. “God, I’ve missed you, Fox.”

“I did not intend my statement to be amusing, sir.”

“Oh no.” He grinned. “You, my dear, meant it in all honesty, which makes me adore you all the more.” He turned to the Countess. “Lady Enright, your granddaughter is so refreshingly direct compared to most other young ladies I find her simply irresistible. I shall not rest until I make her my wife.”

But Grand-mère appeared not to hear him, frantically ringing for smelling salts as she fanned herself profusely, crying, “Tom, Tom!” for the footman. In despair she implored, “Charles, girl, fetch me some water, please!”

***

Wells watched Charles half-heartedly rise to assist her grandmother. Her hips sashayed nicely in her London dress, encouraging his imagination to roam a tad freely and return to last night.

She placed a glass of water with a small thud upon the table before Lady Enright and then settled herself again upon the settee, pouring herself a cup of tea. She leaned back to stare at him and slowly sip.

“Why did you come to London, Wells?”

“Why, to bring you home, Charles.”

“What if I do not wish to go home?”

“Eleanor wishes it, and I wish it too.”

“Yet no one is considering my wishes,” she snapped.

They were speaking as if Lady Enright were not even present.

“For too long no one considered your wishes, Charles. I am as guilty as the next. But I aim to change that now.”

“Then I must inform you of continued failure, sir.”

“Charles, I am trying. Surely you must see I mean to?—”

“What I see, my lord, is a man used to getting what he wants, and when denied his pleasure he resorts to force.”

“No one is forcing you to decide anything, Miss Merrinan.”

“Aren’t you, though?” Her voice rose in pitch. “Did you not deposit me here, in this house, forcing a reconciliation I do not wish?”

“I told you before I could see no other solution to your predicament than to?—”

“You could have simply let me go, damn it.”

“What, and allow you to destroy yourself here in London? Leave you compromised, endangered, or worse?” His exasperation grew. “For God’s sake, Charles, did you really think I’d let you come to harm?”

“Did you really think I expected your rescue?”

“Damn it, Fox, I will not let the woman I love?—”

“You do not love me, sir, you merely lust after me.”

He was stunned to realize she truly had no idea of his depth of feeling.

Lady Enright regained consciousness enough to look from one to the other and interject. “Charles,” she started meekly, “my dear, perhaps it were best you and Lord Wellesley took that turn about the courtyard now. I shall simply sit here by the window with a clear view to you both. It seems you have some catching up to do.” And for a brief moment her eyes met Wellesley’s with the faintest hint of sympathy.

He stood at once and presented Miss Merrinan his arm, which she grudgingly took. They left the parlor for the courtyard, to continue a conversation long in coming.

***

Once out of earshot of her grandmother, however, Charles dropped Wellesley’s arm and launched her offense. He would answer for his actions. She would demand an explanation.

“Why are you truly here, Wells? How did you know where to find me?”

“You know why I am here, Fox,” he answered. “I wish to make you my wife.”

“Nonsense.” His self-assurance was infuriating.

“It is not nonsense.” He looked aggrieved. “I am sincere. If I were not sincere I should have simply flung you over my shoulder and hauled you back to Cumberland with me.”

“You did fling me over your shoulder last night and hauled me here, to the last place on earth I wish to be!”

“So you’d rather be at LeBrecht’s instead, hawking your wares?”

This gave her pause—for but a moment.

“How did you end up in that . . . that house last night?” she demanded.

“As already mentioned, Charles, Miss Li and I are of longstanding acquaintance. When I arrived in London, without a clue to your whereabouts, I realized finding you would be a needle-in-haystack feat, so I met with Madame and asked her to place an ad I hoped might lure you to apply.”

“ You placed the ad for shop girl?” She remained as incredulous as he remained insufferable.

“No, Charles, I asked Miss Li to place an ad in hopes that she might ferret you out. It is nigh impossible to find decent employment without a reference in this city, and as I had written you none before you left, I presumed you’d have great difficulty finding another position as housekeeper here in London.”

His subterfuge, his scheming . . . Who the hell did he think he was?

“Unfortunately, you were not the only young woman with a head of red-gold hair to respond to the ad, making Miss Li fill the position before you appeared, though she had the wherewithal to at least offer you a different job in her shop, one I’d have preferred she not give you, but needs must.”

He’d muttered that last bit under his breath, looking almost sheepish.

Sheepish was not good enough.

“When she informed me a woman of your name and description was in her employ and being solicited by gentlemen, I had to take matters into my own hands and offer for you myself, as Miss Li remains, above all, a keen businesswoman.”

He’d flinched to say the term, but flinching also was not good enough.

“I could not be certain, either, that her ‘Charlotte’ was my Charles, which is why I needed to take a peek at you first.”

“You took your damn time peeking,” she shot back.

“Your identity was not the only thing I needed to verify, Charles.” Wells’s gaze pierced her a moment before he swallowed, seeming nervous. “I also needed to be sure you didn’t actually want to become some other man’s mistress. For all I knew you were enjoying your new position at LeBrecht’s , encouraging clients in hopes one might offer to keep you in finery and set you up comfortably here in London.”

Charles was dumbstruck. “You mean you actually thought me capable of?—?”

“How else could I be certain?” He sounded pained. “You took off in a huff after I proposed marriage, when I expected you’d be pleased by the offer, happy even, as I was happy to imagine us together at last, no longer having to skulk about the Abbey like a pair of furtive?—”

“Because that’s all I ever was to you , Your Grace .” Charles felt bitter to her core, every explanation he had given ringing false. “A fine fuck, do call it what it was, sir. I’ve had enough of your false gallantry.”

***

Wells was appalled. He took her hands in his and dropped to his knee. “Charles, you are infinitely more to me. I’ll admit it was at first perhaps only that—perhaps only that for you, too—but you cannot deny there isn’t more, Fox. I know you feel it too, for if you didn’t, why run like you did? If you truly felt nothing for me, why not accept my suit, if only to enjoy my wealth, like every other grasping debutante?”

“Because I don’t want your wealth!” she cried. “And you never would have deigned to marry me had your mother not found us as she did or known my bloodline. You would have married Miss Mowry and kept me for sport, when I cannot abide the thought of you in some other woman’s arms, fathering children with her while I . . .”

“Fox.” He pulled her to him, crushing her skirts to his body, gazing up at her from the floor. “I could not abide it either, love. I would never have gone through with it. I’d have let you go, or let her go. I could never have kept you both.”

“Only you would .” She sniffed, angrily brushing tears from her eyes. “You’d have wanted the best of both. I know you, Roland Wellesley. You are a beast and I am a fool. I am the greatest fool there is for allowing myself ever to fall in love with you.”

And out it had slipped: proof, at last! His heart swelled with joy.

***

“Which is why I shall never marry you, Lord Wells.” Charles pulled from him roughly. “You cannot take what is not freely given, and I will not marry a man who would just as soon marry another. I will not be molded into a proper duchess to suit you or your mother’s whims. Nor will I be kept prisoner here in my grandparents’ house.” She drew herself up with every shred of dignity she still had left, though inside her soul was crumbling. “So make Mowry your bride and leave me the hell alone.”

Charles bolted from the courtyard and ran into the house, to the comfort of her bedroom, locking the door behind her and throwing herself upon the bed to cry herself silly like some moonstruck girl of fifteen. The last time she’d cried so hard in this house she’d been that very age and just as distraught, only for the sake of a very different love back then: love for her father, her family, her mother freshly lost.

Always and ever, it seemed, Charles wept for love.

Wells eventually returned to the drawing room in a haze of dejection, feeling wrung out to dry. The last thing in the world he wished to do was converse more with Lady Enright, who had surely witnessed their quarrel through the courtyard’s glass panes. He dreaded her words as her skirts rustled in impatience, yet he took his seat with resignation.

“Charles Merrinan is worse than her mother, Lord Wellesley.”

He looked up, surprised.

“More obstinate, obstreperous, obnoxious even than Adelaide was. And it is entirely my own fault for ignoring the girl.” The Countess almost snorted. “I raised Adelaide properly, you know, her sole undoing that rakish soldier Merrinan. But my granddaughter’s undoing, I now see, stems from a decade’s worth of neglect. I have no one to blame but myself.”

Wells suspected the lady was trying to finesse this union before all hope was lost, though if the Countess suspected he had compromised her granddaughter, she might very well attempt to force matters.

And that, he knew, would incense Charles only more.

The lady huffed more loudly, as if the last thing she’d expected or desired at her age was to suffer both character slander and her granddaughter. Yet here she was, dealing with both.

Wells did not want to deal with her a moment more.

He rose to excuse himself, and the Countess politely stood too.

“Lord Wellesley, allow me to see you out, sir.”

“No need, Lady Enright,” he replied. “I shall call again tomorrow, same time.”

“You will?” She quickly collected herself. “Good. That is, I am pleased to hear it.” Oddly, she patted his arm. “It will take time for Charles to acclimate herself again to life here, my lord. Though no doubt you show great patience with her already.”

Wells merely grumbled, “I have not always been so patient with her, Countess, so the least I can do is grant it her now.”

Later, after Charles had cried herself dry, her maid, Jeanie, rapped softly at her door. She let the girl in with a fresh tray of tea and the parcel Lord Wellesley had brought, and then she asked her to bring his lordship’s flowers to her room too.

Upon returning with the bouquet though, Charles could barely thank the girl for the fresh onslaught of tears that again bathed her face. She held his lordship’s silver timepiece gripped in her palm as she stared at Ruby’s print frock strewn across the bed.

For the life of her she didn’t know why both objects made her weep.