He was going to fight, and she shivered at the thought.
She was drowning in guilt, too. He was a cavalry officer, and she’d never thought to offer him a horse. She put that aside as a minor sin past redemption, and focused on amputation.
As soon as she was out of the coach and he was off the horse, she said, “Your indentured servitude is at an end as of now, my lord.”
He paled so the scar stood out starkly on his cheek, but said, “Not here, Maria,” and turned to tip the postboys and to arrange for one to ride his horse to the livery stables.
She was left burning with embarrassment. She’d spilled her words in the open street. She hurried into her house feeling not like a resolute matron, but like a guilty child. She almost fled up to her room, but he’d follow her there. She knew he would. She couldn’t deal with this in such an intimate setting.
Surely she had the right to throw him from her house!
Harriette came down the stairs. “Maria? What are you doing home? Is something the matter?”
“I’ve decided my arrangement with Lord Vandeimen is at an end. He will be leaving.”
“Will I?” he said behind her, and she turned. Her footman was hovering, looking uncertain. If necessary, John would throw himout. If he could, that is. A brawl in the entrance hall of her house? How had matters come to this?
“Maria.” It was Harriette, and she had the door to the reception room open. “We need to talk.”
Maria wanted to refuse, but if she did, Harriette would speak her mind in front of the servants. She stalked into the room and shut the door. “Don’t interfere, Harriette.”
“You cannot be so impossibly inhospitable.”
“There’s no longer any need for him to be here.”
“He’s healed?”
Maria was struck by uncertainty. It was only last night that he’d taken to deep drinking. So much had happened since that it seemed an age ago, but it had only been last night.
“He’s ready to begin restoring his home,” she said. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Harriette eyed her. “I think he’s making you uncomfortable, and that’s why you’re trying to cast him out. What’s he done?”
Maria circled the room then admitted it. “He proposed to me.”
“Ah. And you said?”
“No, of course. It will not do.”
“Why not?”
“Put aside age and the fact that I bribed him into this, I’m barren.”
Harriette’s face sagged. “Oh my dear, I had forgotten. It would have been wonderful.”
“No it wouldn’t. I’m too old for him. He’s too... demanding. Controlling.”
“Oh no. You’re made for each other. I’ve thought it almost from the first. You laugh with him, and blush with him. He makes you young again. He’s steady with you, at ease with you. You anchor him. Be that as it may,” she added briskly, “you are not throwing him out of here so suddenly, especially if you’ve just hurt him—”
“I haven’t hurt him.”
“Any rejected proposal is hurtful. He’s staying for the remaining days.”
“Whose house is this?”
“Yours, but you’ll do as you’re told. You don’t want to have to wonder whether he’s digging out his pistol again, do you?”
“He wouldn’t...” Maria glared at her aunt. “You’re a conniving old woman.”
