AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Nine
Richard threw his glass against the wall, the rest of his drink splashing on the carpet. And when that didn’t make him feel better, he grabbed the decanter of whiskey and threw that as well, growling in anger when that also failed to satisfy him.
He stalked to his desk, pressing his hands against the smooth wood, and barked, “Nelson!”
Nelson, Richard’s steward, came rushing into the room. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Get someone to clean that up.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He was gone in another second, as eager to leave as he had no doubt been reluctant to enter. Richard eyed the papers scattered all over his desk and, giving into the rage, he flung them to the side. White paper fluttered down around him, and he went around the desk to sink into this chair, fuming.
Nelson returned quickly. He must have known the consequences of taking too long, and in this state of anger, Richard didn’t know what he might do. He returned with a maid who went about cleaning up the mess Richard made. Richard stared at the maid while she worked.
She’s new.
She was trembling, eyes darting to the side as if trying to catch a glimpse of the monster she was in the presence of. Shemustbe new, Richard mused, because he’d never seen quite a pretty maid like her around before. He would have noticed her sooner.
He raked his gazed down the length of her, drinking in her slim figure and her blond hair. The smooth skin of her hand was marred by the line of red blood coming to the surface. She quickly put her sliced finger in her mouth, her eye darting to him again.
Richard signaled with his fingers, his eyes never leaving the maid. Nelson got into action, bringing him another decanter of brandy and a glass. He poured him a drink and stepped aside.
The maid was finally done, and she bowed, clutching the dustpan filled with shards of glass to her chest. Richard watched her go. Had he not been so furious, perhaps he would have asked her to stay.
“Bring my wife,” he ordered. Nelson rushed off to do as he was told.
Ellen arrived shortly after. She lingered by the door, then, slowly came to sit in one of the armchairs near the desk. Richard finally let his eyes settle on her and she flinched.
“Where is my daughter?”
Ellen pulled her lips tight. Her fingers did that god-awful practice of twisting nervously around each other, while her eyes darted to the floor. It was an effort not to throw his glass at her. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I’m as surprised as you are that she’s gone.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense!” he screamed and Ellen jumped, her hand flying to her throat. “You must know where she is. If she planned to leave, she would have told you!”
Ellen bowed her head. Her fingers wrung together. “She didn’t say a word to me. I…I don’t know anything.”
He leaned back in his chair, setting his glass far from him. If it was too near it, he just might end up throwing it, and while he didn’t mind seeing that maid again, he’d rather not do so in front of his wife.
Ellen had been beautiful once. She still was, but the lines of depression and stress on her face marred her. After she had Belle, Richard knew he would never want her again and sought the comfort of other women to satiate his lust. She knew it too because he’d never cared to hide it.
Is that why she refuses to tell me where my daughter is? Because she resents the things I’ve done?
“I’m going to ask you one last time, Ellen,” he said slowly. “Where is Belle?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed, and she lifted watery eyes up to meet his. “I’m heartbroken that she said nothing to me before she left.”
“You insist you know nothing of her disappearance?” he asked, leaning closer to her.
“I do.” She swallowed harshly. “Perhaps if she hadn’t been so sad before she left. When Lord Winchfield came here—”
“I’ve heard enough of you.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave.”
She nodded jerkily and rose to her feet. He didn’t bother to watch her leave, but he noted the way she lingered at the door, looking back at him as if she had something else to say. But, as usual, she left without another word.
Only then did Richard make a grab for the glass on the edge of his desk and throw it against the wall, in the same spot he did the last. He banged his fist into the table, ignoring the ache that ran through his knuckles.
This was the worst thing that could have happened. Now that he’d seen the blessing in disguise Belle’s failure to secure a husband was, and now that he’d figured out how to take advantage of it, she left. In the dead of night, no one being any wiser, leaving him to contend with the Marquess of Winchfield himself.
