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Chapter Twenty-Three
In the corner of Thaddeus’s study, Lionel grumbled. It added to the ambiance of the dreary day. The wind whipped across the tall grasses and stirred the branches on the trees outside Thaddeus’s window. The window was shut, since despite the season, the wind was cold. Oh, it was good to be home.
Thaddeus squashed that bitter thought and returned to examining his estate ledger. When he’d left London, he’d brought with him all the books and correspondence heaped upon him. Perhaps he ought to have stopped in at his new ancestral seat, the estate he would be expected to frequent in the summer months. Instead, he’d made his way back to Scotland with a dark, hollow ache eating at his insides. And also in the hopes of forgetting all that had happened between the last time he’d left and his return. He’d brought enough paperwork to suffocate himself, but it didn’t help his mood.
Nor did the letter from his aunt, delivered that morning. It contained only a sparse few lines of censure. The one staring him in the eye, only half-covered by the ledger, read: If you’re so set on pining, marry her!
Thaddeus shoved the letter out of sight, in his top desk drawer. If he’d had his way, he and Perdie would already be married. But he’d tried his damnedest to woo her, and it hadn’t been enough.
Lionel gave an exaggerated sigh and changed position beneath the window. He squinted in the overcast light. “I thought I was meant to be learnin’ to be your valet. Why do I need to know all this rubbish?”
Not for the first time, Thaddeus answered, “I don’t have as much need for a valet in Scotland as I do in London. It will do you good to practice your letters. You can take on some of my correspondence from my steward.” Given the volume of letters in his hand, the man apparently felt the need to write weekly.
“I would rather put out my eyes,” Lionel answered cheerfully.
This time, Thaddeus sighed. He set aside the books and pinned the boy with a glare. “I can throw you back to the village where I found you, if you prefer.”
Lionel gave a halfhearted shrug. He wasn’t afraid that Thaddeus would make good on the threat. Lionel was an orphan, with no family, property, or skills upon which to rely. He was wholly dependent on Thaddeus, and that made him loyal. Even if it didn’t stop his griping.
Trying not to scowl, Thaddeus wrenched the ledger back into place. The numbers swam in front of his eyes. He growled under his breath.
“Fine, if you want a valet’s duties, go and polish my boots.”
“Yes, Your Lordship. Of course, Your Lordship. Would you like me to kiss them when I’m done?”
Thaddeus glared at the boy. He was too cheeky for his own good.
With a grin, Lionel seemed to notice Thaddeus’s black mood. Not that Thaddeus’s mood had been anything but dark since their departure from London.
“I’ll go fetch us a mite from the kitchens. You’ll feel better after luncheon, Your Lordship.”
Grateful to be left alone, Thaddeus didn’t argue. Neither did he work. Instead, he rose and walked to the window. The familiar scene should have comforted him. Inwardly, he felt as blustery as the weather.
And as unsettled. Somehow, he had to forget about Perdie, forget about his failure.
But what had become of her? His aunt’s letter, a week old at least by the time it reached him by the fastest mail coach, did not say. A week ago, Perdie might not yet have been engaged, for his aunt to urge him to marry her.
A lot could happen in a week. It had taken he and Perdie less time to travel the road together, to become familiar.
To fall in love.
He returned to his desk, though he could find no love of it.
In the doorway, Lionel cleared his throat. “Your Lordship, a lady in the parlor wishes to see you.”
He had six such ladies all demanding his time, all trying to learn the reason he kept himself shut away from them as much as possible. Thaddeus rubbed his forehead. “Which one?” Depending on which sister demanded his presence, he might need to find an excuse. Maggie, for instance, was far more stubborn than the rest of them put together, and the most likely to box his ears.
With a sly grin, Lionel said, “Why don’t you visit the parlor and see for yourself?”
If she was sending Lionel to him, his sister knew he wasn’t in the best of moods. Thus far, his sisters were more likely to barge into his study without knocking and attempt to pry him from his desk than to summon him with one of the house’s few servants. The staff they kept had enough work to do without meaningless errands like this.
He meant to say as much to his sister, never mind that it would likely invite her to enter his study twice as often, when he stopped short in the drawing room door. None of his sisters were inside.
But Perdie was. Hell. The shock of seeing her almost felled Thaddeus to his knees.
His heart squeezed and his mouth dried. If she was here, in Scotland, did that mean…
She turned from admiring a portrait he kept of his parents over the mantle. When she saw him, her eyes brightened. She bit her lip, color rising to her cheeks.
