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Sebastian followed his lead, reigning in his temper enough to put on an adequate show, more the easier to be led to Kitty and Barrow. “What is it?”
“Tell His Grace what you heard,” his mother said softy to Mrs. Needly.
The woman stepped forward, her eyes downcast. He couldn’t help but respect the woman’s acting skills. “I was doing my rounds before retiring when I happened to pass by Her Grace’s room. I’m not one to eavesdrop, but I heard…I heard a man’s voice.”
“A man, you say?” Amberwood said with an outraged gasp, putting a hand on his chest.
Already losing his patience with the entire charade, Sebastian pushed past the woman to go up the stairwell and didn’t miss the satisfied smirk his mother wore as he took the stairs two at a time. He strode purposefully down the hallway, the footfalls of his three companions sounding close behind. The door to Kitty’s room was locked. Through it, her the calm din of conversation.
“Allow me, Your Grace. I have a spare key, naturally.” The housekeeper said in a low whisper.
“I suppose he climbed through the window,” his mother said with a sniff. “I warned you, Ashford. Did I not?”
“That is one of my preferred methods of sneaking into a lady’s bedchamber,” Amberwood chimed in, his voice at his normal, jovial volume.
“My Lord, they will hear you,” his mother scolded.
“Good,” Sebastian muttered as he turned the key into the lock. “I’m sure they’ve been expecting me, anyway.” Ignoring the dowager’s confused sputtering, he turned the knob and opened the door, wholly prepared for the sight that lay before him. “Good God, Wife,” he remarked as he took in the two of them sitting placidly by the fire, a tightly robed Kitty pressing a wet, blood-soaked cloth to Barrow’s temple, “I had no idea you had such violent proclivities in the bedroom. Think of how spicy our wedding night could have been had you informed me of such.”
Kitty rolled her eyes as she continued tending to Barrow’s wound. “What took you so long? I fear that Mr. Barrow is concussed.”
“Bah! I’m made of sterner stuff that that, Your Grace,” his friend replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. He huffed in amusement, giving Sebastian a wry glance. “Pistols at dawn, then? Do bring those delightful tea sandwiches of yours.”
“Another picnic?” Kitty cut in with a derisive sniff. “I’d rather get some rest tonight, thank you very much.”
“Good Lord, those footmen really did a number on you,” Amberwood remarked with a low whistle.
“Almost makes me want to hire them for myself,” Barrow replied.
Sebastian held hard onto his amusement, lest the rage at seeing his friend so grievously injured at the hands of his mother’s ridiculous machinations overwhelm him. He turned from the room to level his hardest stare at the dowager, who had all but shrunk against the wall of the hallway. Mrs. Needly was nowhere to be found, obviously having sensed the jig was up far sooner than her mistress. “You are going to the dower house. Tomorrow. If I see your face by the time breakfast comes around, there will be absolute hell to pay.” Later, he would relocate her to his most remote property in the north and force the woman to live in ignominy for the rest of her life. “Were you hoping I would dare to divorce her?”
The woman crossed her arms. “An annulment would have been perfectly possible since she isn’t even a Highbridge.”
“Where did you hear that?” Kitty stood before them, Amberwood taking over tending to Barrow behind her.
“Mrs. Needly was told of it by a trusted source,” the dowager said, her head held high. “And now Ashford knows that dirty little secret of yours.”
“Halston, then?” Sebastian supplied.
His mother looked at him, shock marring her features. “You knew? Yet you still married her?”
He put his arm around Kitty, a comforting gesture more to calm himself than her as another sinister thought wheedled into his mind. In his letter, Halston had virulently denied tampering with the carriage. The knowledge that he had been in contact with one or potentially more members of his staff, who could have quite possibly had access to the vehicle settled like a cold pit in his belly. “Was it you who tried to kill her?”
The dowager blinked. “Kill her?” She paused, wringing her hands. “The carriage, you mean?”
So, his mother had known about the marriage before he’d told her and taken matters into her own hands. He breathed through his nose to keep himself steady as Kitty gasped beside him. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“I wasn’t trying to kill her, truly. I only wanted to distress her enough to…” the duchess trailed of, her nervous gaze going to the floor. She’d said enough for him to gather her meaning, and it took everything he had not lash out in a rage.
“I didn’t think even you were capable of such things,” he said icily.
Kitty huddled into his side. “If you don’t get her away from me, I’m liable to slap her Sebastian,” she bit out. He realized it was no idle threat, either, as her hands fisted into his coat.
A dark part of him almost let her loose on the dowager, but he managed to rein in the impulse. “You will go to your room,” he said to his mother, “or I will drag you there myself.”
“She is going to ruin everything, Ashford,” his mother spat back.
He held firm. “She can run the title to the ground for all I care, so long as I have her by my side. Now leave, so that I may decide what is to be done with you.”
