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A loud laugh emerged from the side room and Cillian froze, his heart slamming straight into his chest.
Marshall.
He shoved past the man who uttered an exclamation and stormed into the room. He found Marshall holding court in front of two other men, a drink in hand and a quick smile on his lips.
Heat flared through every inch of Cillian’s body. “Marshall,” he roared and grabbed the man.
Chairs crashed to the floor. Cillian slammed him against the table. “How dare you come near my wife?”
Marshall clawed at Cillian’s hold and Cillian ignored the demands around him to release him. “How bloody dare you?” Cillian spat.
“He’s mad,” Marshall said hoarsely. “He’s a killer. Get him off me.”
Hands wrapped around Cillian’s arms, and he resisted. He had Marshall in his hold, and he wasn’t about to let him go easily. “You will never come near the house again, do you understand?”
Someone thrust a fist into Cillian’s side and he wheezed out a breath, his grip weakening. More hands scrabbled at him. He fought. He pulled forward. He put his feet down and raged against the men holding him but there were too many and they dragged him out into the hallway as Marshall shoved himself up and watched with a smirk.
“Get that filth out of here,” Moustache said, and Cillian was pushed down the stairs leading to the building.
He staggered and straightened, fists furled, pulse still raging like fire through him. Cillian couldn’t stay here forever but neither could Marshall. One way or another, he would ensure Marshall never went near his house again.
Or near Ivy.
Chapter Seventeen
“It’s so pleasant to be away from all of those lot.”
Ivy swung a look at Muriel who closed her eyes briefly and turned her face to the sun. Which would be fine if she were not holding the curricle’s reins as she navigated the small vehicle and its two horses along the narrow lane toward Charington. She assumedthose lotwere the servants.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself but perhaps you could concentrate on driving,” Ivy suggested.
“I’ve been driving since I was seven years old. My father used to put me on a cushion because I was too small.” Muriel gestured vaguely with one hand. “Relax, my lady, it’s such a lovely day.”
“It is a lovely day,” she agreed but she couldn’t relax. Although their little jaunt to visit with the tenants had proved fruitful and quite pleasant, she needed to be doing more.
She needed to find out what was going on with Cillian mostly.
Ivy laced her hands in her lap and watched the fields pass by. Hedgerows lined the curving road and sheep dotted the fields here apart from one which had been given over to rape seed and was already turning beautifully yellow.
The house couldn’t be seen yet but it wouldn’t be long before they were back. Part of Ivy longed to be back. Part of her itched to jump from the carriage and sprint across the fields until she came upon Cillian inevitably out of doors, in discussion with a farmer or riding his horse to town or even doing hard labor. She wasn’t certain what she expected from a marriage to a stranger but this warm sensation when she thought of him had been unexpected.
However, another significant part of her didn’t want to return, not until she knew the truth.
How could she live like this, with a man who was clearly keeping secrets and refused to share anything but small parts of himself?
With any luck, her cousins could help. She couldn’t go to London, not with her animals to look after, and though she doubted Cillian would demand she stay, the house relied on her. She couldn’t leave him to manage it all alone. He worked hard enough as it was.
Muriel pulled the carriage to a halt, a furrow between her dark brows. “There’s something in the road, my lady. Won’t be but a moment.” She leaped down from the carriage to approach a dark, lumpy shape.
Ivy peered at the object. An injured person perhaps? An animal. Perhaps she should—
“Oh!”
A man jumped in beside her and snatched up the reins. It took a moment for realization to strike.
This was the man who had been looking at the house. The man who made Cillian so furious. The man who might have tried to poison her animals.
The man throwing bricks through the window.
