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“Are you certain you’ll be safe, Sophia?” Claire asked.
Footmen lingered in the room, pouring tea and bringing coffee and food. “There are enough men here to forge an army.”
She was right. The hall was like a fortress, they had so much staff. Claire got to her feet and kissed Sophia on the cheek. “Good night.”
“Good night,” her sister replied as she walked them to the door.
Claire stepped out into the chilly night air and wrapped her arms around herself. She was almost giddy with relief. Finn was well. Marcus and the duke were well. They were on their way home and would probably arrive after they had a good rest and got some food.
The carriage stopped, and two of the duke’s footmen walked her to the door. Finn’s butler met them at the door, holding it open for her. “Good evening, my lady,” he said formally. “Might I offer my felicitations on your marriage?”
Claire slapped her naked hands with her gloves. “You may. And I accept.” She turned to go up the stairs, but his voice stopped her.
“Would you like a bath, my lady?” the butler asked with a smile.
“Thank you, but no,” Claire breathed. She wanted to do nothing but sleep.
She took the stairs slowly, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Finn would be home soon, probably before she even woke.
Claire stepped into her room and didn’t bother to call for a maid to help her undress. Finn usually did it for her, and she’d gotten used to his attention. No one else would do.
Claire took off her dress and hung it over a chair, and then kicked off her slippers. It was a bit chilly in the bedchamber; she would have to ask the staff to bolster the fire.
It wasn’t until she was about to pull her chemise over her head that she saw the shadow move against the far wall. She froze. A voice came at her through the shadows of the room. “Good evening, Miss Thorne,” the Earl of Mayden said.
Thirty-Five
Claire wrapped her arms around herself and fought back a shiver. The man would respect her more if she had a backbone. Or did respect even matter? The man was mad. She could see it in his gray eyes. The way he couldn’t focus on any one thing for any length of time. The way he scratched at his chest as if he needed to remove a barnacle. The way he fidgeted from foot to foot.
“So nice of you to make an appointment to talk,” Claire said. “It’s a pity my husband isn’t here to welcome you.” She shrugged into Finn’s dressing gown, which hung on the back of their bedchamber door.
“I’m certain he’ll appreciate that I paid a social visit on this the day of your wedding.”
“I’m certain he will.”
“Where is Lord Phineas?” Mayden asked as he perched himself on the edge of the bed. Claire would have to burn the linens when he finally removed himself.
“He should be home any moment,” she said. Her heart was tripping like mad, but she refused to let the earl see how discomfited she was.
His eyes narrowed. Then he grinned. It was a diabolical display of mirth. “It’ll take him quite a while to get here from Bedfordshire.” He pulled out his watch fob and glanced at it. “We still have hours left to entertain one another.”
He crossed the room to her, and Claire steeled herself, forcing her body to remain still rather than retreat. His arms shot out so quickly that Claire wasn’t expecting it. His long, slender fingers grappled in her hair, dragging her closer, his greedy fingers pulling so harshly that she covered his hands with hers. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Claire.”
He had a score to settle. This wasn’t just a matter of him being angry at Robinsworth and Finn. Claire had humiliated him publicly when she’d kneed him in the groin and stomped on his hand. This was about more than just money. It was about his pride. “I’d apologize for lying to you, but you’d accuse me of lying again.”
Claire flinched when he let go of her hair with one hand and raised it high to the side. Pain exploded on the side of her face, snapping her head to the left so quickly that her neck wrenched. Tears came to her eyes as she looked down at the floor. He wanted to cow her.
Her grandmother had once told her that, when you’re in a bad situation, whatever you do to save yourself is all right, as long as you come out of it alive. Claire would go against her nature and bow to the mad earl. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” she said.
His grip eased marginally. “That’s better.”
“What do you want?”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “What do I want?” He made a sucking noise with his teeth. “What do I want?”
“I asked you first,” Claire said.
His hand in her hair tightened.
