Pendragon (Sherbrooke Brides 7)

Thomas jerked his half-brother from his bed and dragged him across his bedchamber to his dressing table, where there sat a pitcher filled of water, waiting for soap and his razor.

Thomas poured the water over William’s head. William howled, flopped about, but it didn’t matter.

Thomas let him slide to the floor, then called for his valet. “Wring the little sot out, Dickie. When you have poured enough coffee down his throat, bring him to me in the estate room. Oh, and don’t let him out of your sight, he’s liable to slink out of here and try to hide.”

He heard Dickie say in a far-too-kind voice, “Come along, Master William. It’s not a good thing you’ve done and you’re in for it. Best face it like a man.”

William moaned.

Thomas was shaking his head, wondering how he was going to handle this one, when he nearly ran into Meggie, who was dancing down the corridor, humming an arpeggio. He grabbed her arm to keep her upright. She squeaked in surprise, looked up at him, blushed—it was that blush that alerted him—then gave him a fat smile, and he knew, knew all the way to his belly, exactly what she was thinking, saw it clearly in his mind. She was kneeling over him and her mouth was on him. And her hands. And the feel of her hair on his belly. Oh God. He couldn’t bear it. He was shaking.

“Good morning.” He kissed her hard and fast, then straightened, took two steps away from her. When she reached for him, he said, “Don’t, Meggie, I can do nothing about it, at least for the next couple of hours. William has gotten another girl pregnant. Her father came here, fully prepared to send William all the way to Botany Bay. In a boat without a paddle. Perhaps without a boat as well.”

“That’s it, Thomas. I’m going to kill the little sod, right now.”

He managed to grab her before she ran around him. She was breathing hard.

“No, sweetheart, you can’t.”

“Of course I can. Just watch me.”

“I mean, since I’m the magistrate and I would be a witness to the crime, I would have to take you to the gaol in Dublin.”

B

ut Meggie had already moved ahead. “But how can William have gotten another girl pregnant? He’s only been here a matter of weeks.”

Thomas sighed. “The little sod was home before.”

“This is just too much, Thomas. Let me go. I will get a gun. I will shoot him in the feet, make him crawl away from Pendragon. You won’t have to be a witness and arrest me.”

“No, Meggie, keep away from William. If you would, please ask Aunt Libby to come to the drawing room. It is time that she faced what William is, what he has done, what he’s obviously done every chance he’s gotten since he was old enough to figure out what to do.”

“Aunt Libby doesn’t know about any of the other girls? She doesn’t know what he’s like?”

He shook his head. “I don’t see how she could. William certainly would never tell her, you can wager your last groat on that, and I’ve kept quiet, protecting her. But now this cannot continue. She needs to know. If she has any control, any influence over him, now’s the time she used it.”

“I’ll fetch her, Thomas.”

At least, Meggie thought, watching her husband stride down the corridor, head down, hopefully planning punishments for William, he wasn’t thinking about Jeremy.

Jeremy. Meggie paused a moment, and blinked. It was strange. For the first time since she’d known him, Jeremy wasn’t all that clear in her head. How odd that she could be so very fickle.

Odd but good. She had honestly believed he was her world, believed that when he had married Charlotte that her world had come to an end, at least all the fun part of it.

But no longer.

She found Aunt Libby in her bedchamber, humming as she carefully selected a sweetmeat and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed. Meggie also saw that Libby was writing something. She quickly slid the piece of foolscap beneath several books—both of them, Meggie saw, were Lord Byron. Now, what was this all about?

Meggie hated this room. It was as dark and dismal as the rest of Pendragon, except, of course, for Madeleine’s room.

Meggie looked around as she said, “Are you certain, Aunt Libby, that you don’t wish me to make your bedchamber a bit more cheerful? Perhaps more light could come in if we took away those dark draperies. Thomas and I will be going to Dublin soon to visit the furniture warehouses. You could accompany us, if you would like to.”

Libby just shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Isn’t it a beautiful morning, Meggie? Would you care for a sweetmeat? The almond ones are exquisite. Niles tells me they have no substance to them at all so I can eat as many as I wish without gaining flesh. As for having more light in this room, goodness no. A woman of a certain age looks much fresher if there isn’t too much ghastly sunlight showing all the imperfections, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Meggie said and stared at Libby. She knew to her toes that Libby had been with Lord Kipper. She recognized that very self-satisfied look, that air of utter complacency, that sparkle that came from somewhere in the inside that made one want to hum and smile and fold one’s hands across one’s lap and do nothing at all except enjoy the sweet flow of life. She’d seen it on her own face when she’d looked in the mirror that morning. If William weren’t such a rotter, she’d still have that smile on her face, damn him.

“Thank you, but I’m not all that fond of almonds, Aunt Libby.”