Page 52 of Beguiling the Baron

Chapter 33

Pleasure washed through Tia, and she held out her hands in welcome. “Hal, how splendid. You’ve returned earlier than expected.”

In a harsh voice that instantly wiped the joy from her heart, he growled, “What in the name of all that’s holy is going on? I could barely get my carriage round to the coach house for all the horses, traveling barouches, and lackeys thronging the drive. Wasn’t this meant to be a small party of children? All of whom were, in fact, supposed to have gone home a full hour ago?”

“I’m afraid everyone had friends and relations staying, so they brought them along. It would have been rude to turn anybody away. Hal—”

He thrust past her and mounted the stairs two at a time. Reaching the landing, he stared through the long window, his body rigid.

How could he turn his back on her? This wasn’t her fault. She hastened after him to explain, but he spun around and pinned her with a thunderous look. “I gave permission for a small, private affair, and you have turned it into a riot. Is this how I’m to be repaid for giving you what you want? Will you forever be taking advantage of me?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Out of my way.” Hal speared her with a steely gaze. “This is my house, and I’m going to send them all home now.”

She shrank back, aghast. Surely not even he would inflict such an insult on their guests? Mama would be mortified, as would Polly. How could they bear the shame? He must be brought to see reason. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her tongue.

Hal had paled, his face stonier than a statue’s. His blue eyes glinted, his jaw clamped firm, clearly enraged. Before she could stop him, he cantered back down the stairs and strode toward the front door.

She ran after him and caught his elbow, but he shook her off.

“Leave me alone.” His tone was dangerously soft. “I can’t believe you’ve betrayed my trust like this. I thought so much better of you.”

“Hal, no, it’s all a terrible mistake,” she cried, but he’d already reached the door. She followed in his wake as he marched around the side of the house toward the cloisters and caught up with him outside the archway. She grabbed the back of his coat, desperate to stop him going any farther.

“Please, don’t. Polly will be so ashamed if you throw everyone out. This wasn’t meant to happen, believe me.” She pressed her forehead against the soft wool of his coat, squeezing her eyes tight shut, hoping he’d see reason.

The tension in his muscles eased a fraction. His body heaved with emotion, but he didn’t go forward or shout at his visitors. Had she won? She peeped out to see if anyone had noticed their altercation.

The party was in full swing. The grounds were flooded with people of all ages, sitting beneath ingeniously rigged-up canopies, strolling underneath parasols, chasing balls, chasing ducks, playing croquet, and even reading. It looked as if a genteel version of Chippenham fair had come to Foxleaze—there was even a handful of children dancing to the out-of-tune notes of the harp.

To any other aristocrat, this enjoyable gathering would have been considered a triumph. To Henry Pelham, eighth Baron Ansford, it was a catastrophe.

Hoping for a last-minute reprieve, Tia stood in front of him and looked up, praying he’d see the desperation in her eyes.

He simply stared past her, ignoring the mute plea. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his chest heaved with such indignation, she expected the buttons on his black waistcoat to fly off.

“Please Hal, don’t.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

As if coming back to her from far away, he lowered his gaze to her face, but there was no focus in his eyes. Without a word, he turned smartly on his heel and marched back the way he’d come.

She sank back against the stone pillar of the archway, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Pressing a hand against her midriff, she waited for the panic to ebb away. Hal had quit the battlefield. But had he left her victorious or had he retreated, intending to regroup?

The only way to find out and avert potential disaster was to follow him.