Page 22 of Devoted to You


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Aidan glared at her. He opened his mouth to tell Petal to leave it, but at the last moment kept quiet. Instead, he watched Petal picked it up off the floor and hurry out of the room.

“That was ill-mannered even for you,?

? Aidan growled in disgust. He knew his remark had hit home when the dowager’s eyes flashed in temper. Rather than enter into any argument, his mother merely sucked in a deep breath and ran her gaze down the length of him.

“I thought you were supposed to be in bed,” she murmured.

While she waited for his answer, she stalked arrogantly around the room, inspecting each piece of furniture as though critiquing it for royalty.

“What do you want?” Aidan demanded. “Can I remind you that there is no knocker on the door for a reason? I am not receiving visitors for the time being. Especially unwelcome ones.”

“I am not a visitor, Aidan. I am your mother. You should welcome me at any time,” she reported crisply, and in defiance of his not so gentle hint, sat in the seat Petal had just vacated.

“To what do I owe this intrusion?” Aidan demanded.

“I wanted to see how you are progressing,” his mother replied, studying the thick blanket covering him from the waist down.

“I didn’t realise you were up and about so soon, or that you wouldn’t bother to dress when you did get up.”

“I am not up and about as you put it. If I were, I would be fully dressed and in my study downstairs. I am recovering well enough, so got out of bed,” he reported briskly.

If this was what they had visited for, he was happy to oblige them with an update, if only to get rid of them. He didn’t immediately pay any attention to the soft chink of pottery behind him. That is until Edwards slid a cup and saucer onto the small table beside him. He watched her serve Miss Hornsby, and his mother, before helping herself to a cup. As casually as if they were regulars, she then took a seat on the chaise next to the companion as though she had every right to join them.

“You have work to do,” Aidan snapped.

Edwards’ cup was held suspended in mid-air. She didn’t take a sip. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, she lowered the cup back to the saucer.

“I don’t think it is entirely appropriate for staff to be drinking tea with employers, do you? Get back to work. I don’t believe you are family, Edwards. You are not a part of this conversation,” Aidan drawled. He lifted a querulous brow in her direction and almost relished the moment she tried to ignore him. If she did, he would take advantage of the dowager being here to throw them all out on their ears.

“Oh, don’t be such a bore,” the dowager chided.

“I am not a bore. I am just aware that you like those ridiculous social strictures of yours. It is not entirely appropriate for your companion, or my nurse, to be taking tea with us. They are staff. Since when have you fraternised with employees?”

The point made, he saw his mother consider the contradiction in standards. Aidan saw the flash of temper hidden in the depths of her calm grey eyes. It reassured him that his point had hit home and had upset her.

To his disbelief, she still didn’t seem inclined to want to give up without a fight, and simply leave. After taking a cautious sip of her tea, she levelled a blank look on him that warned him trouble was afoot in his house once again. Aware that this was nothing short of a silent battle of wills, Aidan threw Miss Hornsby a glare.

“I do not feel it is appropriate for you to be so forward with your presence in my house either, Miss Hornsby,” he declared coldly.

As he spoke he stared his mother in the eye in exactly the same way she had done him when addressing Petal.

“Your connection is with my mother, Miss Hornsby. I am sure you will find the sitting room downstairs more to your liking. Edwards, show her where it is. While you are downstairs, go and count your medicine bottles or something. You are paid to work not sit around drinking tea.” Aidan’s voice was devoid of all emotion, but was nothing short of a cold order that gave neither woman any opportunity to object.

Although the dowager didn’t give in easily, Edwards and Miss Hornsby seemed to know that they had gone too far. In unison, they returned their cups to the tray and quietly left the room.

“You could be a little more cordial, you know,” the dowager chided once they had gone.

“You could be slightly more aware of etiquette yourself. You know it is highly inappropriate for either woman to be in here. Yet you continue to drag your companion into my most private quarters, anyway whenever it fits in with your scheming. What on earth has possessed you to consider that right or proper? I warn you now that I am not prepared to be cuckolded into matrimony by you, that harridan you call your friend, that God awful nurse you employed without my authorisation, or anyone else. Why I would rather marry a maid than allow myself to be ensnared into the farce you call society.”

“Don’t you dare -” the dowager snapped in outrage.

“Oh, I dare, mother.”

“It is the time you were wed,” she declared with a sniff.

“Says who?” he snapped. “You?”

“Well, everybody. You are beyond the age where you should be raising a family of your own.”

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