Read Online The Romantic by Madeline Hunter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Madeline Hunter
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taken it to get away from this man.
Steely gray hair precisely groomed, expensive frock coat and cravat pressed to perfection, the earl sat on a small settee that made him look larger than he was. He bid Julian to a nearby chair.
“I regret that I could not receive you the last time you called,” the earl said. “I am glad that you returned.”
He smiled. Charlotte had called him a toad in Laclere’sstudy, and there was something to his lax mouth that reminded one of a frog.
“Your performance at Laclere’s house required that I call. Your expectation that the countess should return to your home surprised me.”
“Did it? I would have expected her to confide in you that I have changed my mind. After all, she has told you everything else.”
“What surprises me is that you think that changing your mind has any significance. I doubt that her feelings have softened, so the situation remains as it was when she left you.”
“In my view, the situation has changed considerably. Enough that this estrangement is no longer tolerable. I want you to communicate that to her in the event her brother will not.”
“You can write to her and communicate it yourself.”
“Since I do not know where she is, I cannot. Do not tell me she is in Naples, since I am sure she has returned to England. You know where she is, too. After all, you are her special confidant. Her servant. Her blackmail-monger. The lady bids and you perform, much like a well-trained dog. She may not have contacted her brothers, but she most certainly contacted you.”
Glasbury rose and stiffly paced to the fireplace as if remaining in proximity to his caller was distasteful.
“She was having affairs in Naples. A whole string of them. That negates our agreement, as you well know.”
“You have evidence of this?”
“I received enough letters describing her lovers to fill a ship’s hold.”
“A woman in the company of a man at a public function is not evidence.”
“I know that she was playing the whore, damn you. I won’t have it. It is intolerable. She is my wife. She
belongs to me.”
There it was. Glasbury’s view of marriage. Of Pen. Property.
The law’s view, too, unfortunately.
“Whatever you may think you know, do not forget what she knows,” Julian said.
Glasbury pivoted and glared at him. A dangerous gleam entered his eyes. “And what
you
know, too. Only you do not have the stomach to use it, even though you threatened that you did. You backed down once before after I spelled out the cost to you.”
Julian greeted this allusion with silence. He knew that years ago someone had tried to blackmail Glasbury for money over these secrets. Glasbury had accused Julian of being that person, and returned his own threats. When the blackmail abruptly ceased, it looked as if Glasbury’s interpretation had been validated.
Only it had not been Julian at all.
“The countess
does
have the will to use it, even if you think I do not,” he finally said. “I repeat what I said when I first entered: Nothing has changed.”
Glasbury strolled back with a confident gait. He eased back down on the settee. “I think much has changed. Time does that. She has a story, but who will believe her now? Who will believe the fantastic accusations of a woman so conceited and spoiled that she broke her marriage vows and refused her husband, a peer no less, his progeny? A woman who flaunts herself all over Europe asif she has no duties here in England? A woman who waits over a decade to reveal the source of her great unhappiness? See it with the world’s eyes, Hampton. The years have made her tale of woe very stale. Her behavior has made its veracity very suspicious.”
Something despoiling poured off Glasbury as he explained his invulnerability. That aura just got darker and darker, until Julian felt he was seeing the naked soul of this man. It was not a pleasant sight.
An old, recurrent vision intruded into the mutinous corner of Julian’s mind.
He
Steely gray hair precisely groomed, expensive frock coat and cravat pressed to perfection, the earl sat on a small settee that made him look larger than he was. He bid Julian to a nearby chair.
“I regret that I could not receive you the last time you called,” the earl said. “I am glad that you returned.”
He smiled. Charlotte had called him a toad in Laclere’sstudy, and there was something to his lax mouth that reminded one of a frog.
“Your performance at Laclere’s house required that I call. Your expectation that the countess should return to your home surprised me.”
“Did it? I would have expected her to confide in you that I have changed my mind. After all, she has told you everything else.”
“What surprises me is that you think that changing your mind has any significance. I doubt that her feelings have softened, so the situation remains as it was when she left you.”
“In my view, the situation has changed considerably. Enough that this estrangement is no longer tolerable. I want you to communicate that to her in the event her brother will not.”
“You can write to her and communicate it yourself.”
“Since I do not know where she is, I cannot. Do not tell me she is in Naples, since I am sure she has returned to England. You know where she is, too. After all, you are her special confidant. Her servant. Her blackmail-monger. The lady bids and you perform, much like a well-trained dog. She may not have contacted her brothers, but she most certainly contacted you.”
Glasbury rose and stiffly paced to the fireplace as if remaining in proximity to his caller was distasteful.
“She was having affairs in Naples. A whole string of them. That negates our agreement, as you well know.”
“You have evidence of this?”
“I received enough letters describing her lovers to fill a ship’s hold.”
“A woman in the company of a man at a public function is not evidence.”
“I know that she was playing the whore, damn you. I won’t have it. It is intolerable. She is my wife. She
belongs to me.”
There it was. Glasbury’s view of marriage. Of Pen. Property.
The law’s view, too, unfortunately.
“Whatever you may think you know, do not forget what she knows,” Julian said.
Glasbury pivoted and glared at him. A dangerous gleam entered his eyes. “And what
you
know, too. Only you do not have the stomach to use it, even though you threatened that you did. You backed down once before after I spelled out the cost to you.”
Julian greeted this allusion with silence. He knew that years ago someone had tried to blackmail Glasbury for money over these secrets. Glasbury had accused Julian of being that person, and returned his own threats. When the blackmail abruptly ceased, it looked as if Glasbury’s interpretation had been validated.
Only it had not been Julian at all.
“The countess
does
have the will to use it, even if you think I do not,” he finally said. “I repeat what I said when I first entered: Nothing has changed.”
Glasbury strolled back with a confident gait. He eased back down on the settee. “I think much has changed. Time does that. She has a story, but who will believe her now? Who will believe the fantastic accusations of a woman so conceited and spoiled that she broke her marriage vows and refused her husband, a peer no less, his progeny? A woman who flaunts herself all over Europe asif she has no duties here in England? A woman who waits over a decade to reveal the source of her great unhappiness? See it with the world’s eyes, Hampton. The years have made her tale of woe very stale. Her behavior has made its veracity very suspicious.”
Something despoiling poured off Glasbury as he explained his invulnerability. That aura just got darker and darker, until Julian felt he was seeing the naked soul of this man. It was not a pleasant sight.
An old, recurrent vision intruded into the mutinous corner of Julian’s mind.
He
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