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Chapter Twenty-Nine
“How can I call this man my friend now?” Antony muttered as he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, standing on the front step of the house.
“You said he was your friend,” Hermione said at his side, reaching for his arm. He clutched at that arm tightly, not intending to let her go.
“That was before I found out what he did to you!” Antony said in a harried whisper. Ahead of them, Lord Lulworth’s carriage was pulling up on the driveway, announcing his arrival. “He left you standing at a church. Why?”
“I do not know,” Hermione said, turning her eyes away from him and toward the carriage. The movement of those eyes made jealousy rip through Antony, an envy he could not bear.
Did she love him? I haven’t asked her that yet. I am afraid of her answer.
There was no more time for words now. The door of the carriage opened, and the Viscount stepped down. Antony was rather pleased everyone else that lived in the house was out for the day. He felt he might snap and lose his temper with his old friend at any minute, he didn’t particularly want any of his or Hermione’s family to hear that.
“Well, it has been too long, my friend!” Lord Lulworth announced as he jumped down from the carriage. He strode forward with his hand outstretched ready to shake, jerking his head once to tip the blond hair out of his eyes, then those eyes turned to Hermione at Antony’s side. “I do not believe it.”
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying a lot,” Hermione said wryly.
“I’ve heard you know my new wife?” Antony said, gesturing toward Hermione.
“Your wife!?” Lord Lulworth said, his gaze snapping between the two of them before he regained his composure. “Well, yes, I do.”
“In unpleasant circumstances,” Hermione said hurriedly.
“They were not always so unpleasant, were they?” Lord Lulworth’s flirtation made Antony tighten his hold through Hermione’s arm even more and pull her slightly away from his old friend.
Some friend he is. Clearly, he is not the caliber of man I thought he was.
“I remember the unpleasant, My Lord,” Hermione said, just as Lord Lulworth offered a bow to her.
“Well, you seem to have landed well on your feet, Your Grace.” He turned his attention back to Antony with a smile, but Antony could not mirror it. He could still feel the anger coursing through his body.
He couldn’t understand how anyone could go back on their word promising to marry Hermione for starters then leaving her standing outside a church. That didn’t make sense.
“Shall we go in?” Antony said sharply, gesturing inside the house from where they were on the doorstep. “I have a feeling I know why you are here.”
A few minutes later, the three of them were in the drawing room. Antony was sitting perfectly still, staring with daggers in his eyes across the room at Lord Lulworth, whilst Hermione was serving tea for the three of them. Antony’s mind wasn’t helped by the way Lord Lulworth’s eyes were following Hermione around the room.
He lusts after her still. So why didn’t he marry her?
“Lulworth,” Antony snapped his name, watching as his friend jerked his eyes away from Hermione. “She’s not yours to stare at anymore.” He looked uncomfortable, turning away. “So, you want money?”
“Ah, yes my friend,” Lord Lulworth took on a jovial tone. “That old bother again I am afraid.”
“Gambling debts?”
“Just so, I fear I have had some rotten luck on the card table.”
“You think you would have learned to stay away from the card table by now. You never have good luck with it,” Antony said tartly. Hermione stood from the coffee table with a cup of tea in hand and passed it toward Lord Lulworth. As he took the cup, he brushed his hand against Hermione’s for a second.
She jumped back. The touch was enough to shake something in Antony. He couldn’t bear the sight of it. He’d lost one woman to another man, and now Hermione was here, gazing at a man she had once promised to marry. It was too much.
Antony leapt to his feet and crossed the room. “Is something wrong?” Lord Lulworth asked, looking up from his teacup.
“Stay there,” Antony warned him and took Hermione’s hand, pulling her out of the room.
“What is happening? Where are we going?” she asked, pleadingly. He didn’t answer, not straight away. Instead, he towed her out of the room and toward the study, being the nearest room that he could get to. He pulled her inside, closed the door behind them and leaned against it as he released Hermione.
“Good Lord, Antony, what is wrong?” Hermione asked, standing back from him with shock on her face.
