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Perhaps it was Jonathan who had gone to the viscount.
Perhaps it was Jonathan…
“Polk,” he said, “go ahead and ask your young lady on a stroll. And Viscount, I’ve enjoyed your company. If the two of you will excuse us, I’d like to have a word with my cousin.”
The father and son both bowed and quickly left the stable.
“For the love of God, Ashford,” Jonathan said. “You just gave Polk a leg up on a young lady who interests me.”
“You’re not going near that young lady, Jonathan,” Thomas said. “And while Polk may escort her on a stroll, trust me that he won’t get anywhere with her either.”
Jonathan cocked his head. “What are you talking about, Thomas? What’s gotten into you?”
Thomas nodded. “Finally, you use my Christian name. You’ve known me as Thomas since we were lads, as I’ve known you as Jonathan.”
Jonathan furrowed his brow. “And that’s supposed to mean something?”
“Indeed it does. Tell me something, Jonathan.” Thomas looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Exactly when did you get in touch with the Viscount Polk and his son?”
His cousin blinked. “I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Thomas couldn’t help himself. His anger took over. He grabbed Jonathan by his cravat and pushed him into the wall of the stable. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. My father’s death was no accident, was it?”
“I don’t think the physicians determined what the cause of his death was,” Jonathan said, his voice rasping. “Now if you’ll let go of me, please.”
“It’s all becoming clear to me. Why I saw you and Polk near my study. Why my study door was unlocked.”
“If you want to accuse me of something, Ashford, just do it.”
“I don’t accuse people without evidence. But trust me, I will find evidence. You will go down for this.” Thomas loosened his hand from Jonathan’s collar. “Get the hell out of my sight. And if I see you with Patricia, I will fucking pummel you into the ground.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows rose at Thomas’s profanity.
“I do believe your mother, the countess, would wash your little blueblood mouth out with soap if she heard what you just said.”
“You leave my mother out of this. You leave Lady Patricia out of this. I wish you had left the viscount and his family out of this, but apparently you were able to sway them.”
“I’m sure I don’t know?—”
Thomas glared at his cousin. “Don’t play me for a fool, Jonathan. It will be the last thing you do.”
27
Tricia reread the story of Lady Portia and then tossed the papers back into her valise.
They’d been titillating, to be sure, and even though she did have two suitors, Lord Polk and Mr. Jameson, Tricia could not imagine herself in Lady Portia’s shoes with both of those men.
No.
She wanted only Thomas.
There was no need to have two lovers when you could have the man of your dreams.
Her mother and Katrina had already descended. Tricia had sneaked back into her room to reread the latest episode of Lady Portia’s exploits after dressing.
The story would continue, of course, but Patricia had no more interest in reading it, even if Sarah was able to procure more issues.
Tricia checked her face in the looking glass, pinched her cheeks, smoothed out her hair, and left her bedchamber to descend.
