Montrose gave scoffing laugh. “I don't know who you think you are, Randall, but the last time I checked, a marquess trumped a viscount.”
Sterling spread his arms wide, nonchalant. “I’m not contesting your noble rank,milord. I’m merely telling you the facts of life. No more access to defenseless females will be granted to you in your household. And now, allow me to tell you what will happen to you if you think to spread malicious gossip aboutmywife.”
He turned, and opened the double doors to reveal Lady Montrose, standing in the corridor. She struggled to right herself from the half-bent position she’d been in while pressing her ear to the doors.
Sterling sent her his coldest smile. “Do join us.”
The regal blond lifted her chin and hurried toward her husband.
“Are you recovering, Lady Montrose, from the loss of your son?” Sterling asked her as she reached her husband’s side.
She eyed him warily. “I shall never recover.”
“Do you think it’s the guilt?” he asked.
She stiffened. “I have no notion—”
“Youknew. You knew precisely what kind of monster you helped create.” He broke off, tapping his chin with his index finger. “It occurs to me, looking at the two of you together, that he was just like you. A perfect blend of angry, entitled, and arrogant. The wonder of it is how Annabelle managed to survive this household with such an innate sweetness about her that even you could not stamp out, despite your best efforts.”
They gaped at him.
He went on. “Here’s what’s going to happen. If I hear one peep aboutmy wife,one hint that her marriage was due to anything other than her husband being totally enamored with her—as thetonwill soon see with their own eyes—I’m going to take out the entire ad section ofThe Timesto tell the world exactly what sort of man you are, Montrose,andwhat your son was.
“Additionally, I’m going to shout it from the rafters that you, Lady Montrose, knew all along about your husband’s and your son’s disgusting habits. I assure you, I can weather the scandal. I can and will protectmy wife.My family will stand by me and Annabelle—unlike her own poor excuse for kin.
“You, Lord Montrose, Lady Montrose will find yourselves blackballed everywhere. Trust me on this.”
Sterling pulled his pocket watch from his outer waistcoat pocket. “I’m afraid I have to conclude this little meeting. I have a lunch date—with my wife and the rest of my family. We’rehaving a celebratory brunch. It’s too bad you all were out of town for it, but there you are.”
He tucked his watch back into his pocket. “I shall have my solicitor come by to discuss a change in household staff with Lady Montrose. You will pay the women in your employ a stipend, and send them off with excellent references. Do I make myself clear?”
They merely stared at him.
“Later today, you will send a letter to my wife, your daughter, expressing your heartfelt congratulations on her wedding. And you will invite us, my sister, and my parents to dinner. We will accept. You will say nothing snide, nothing cruel, nothing, in short, to hurt Annabelle. If you do, there will be consequences.” He glanced between the two of them. “Any questions?”
Neither spoke.
“Oh, and one thing more.” He allowed the fury running roughshod through him to show in his eyes. “For my wife’s sake, I overlooked that slur earlier. Callmy wifea whore one more time, Montrose, and be prepared to answer for it over pistols at dawn.”
Epilogue
Holy Island, Winter 1883
Annabelle sat at her escritoire, writing a letter to Caroline, while reaching her free hand to rock the pram holding a napping Rose, her and Sterling’s one-year-old.
She set down her quill and rubbed her growing belly. Their next bundle of joy, due to arrive in another six months was making him or herself known with lots of flutters and gurgles today.
She grinned down at herself. She hoped for a boy. One that looked like Sterling, though he kept saying he’d take a hundred little girls that looked exactly like her.
The door to their antechamber burst open, and Sterling swept inside. He still wore his great coat. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed, and his dark eyes shone with excitement.
“Where’s your cloak?” he demanded.
“Why?”
“I’ve got something to show the two of you.” He bent to pluck Rose from the pram, then swaddled her in a blanket til only her face showed.
As he gazed at her, his expression grew doe-eyed. Annabelle concluded their daughter had favored him with one of her twinkling grins.
