Page 161 of The Earl She Once Saved

“I went to a physician yesterday. I laid before him the burden you have carried, and the behavior that has troubled me since my return.”

Verity stood still.

Roland counted on his fingers. “The estate you insist upon running like a man. Your refusal to live peaceably with your husband. Your ride into the night while guests were still in our house.” He glanced at the open door. “And now this temper, over a servant I have every right to dismiss.”

“You went to a physician without speaking to me?” she asked.

“I sought advice,” he shrugged. “A husband concerned for his wife is expected to do so.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That he would need to see you. I think he will find cause for concern.” Roland’s manner remained patient. “A physician will sign to say that a woman who lives as you do cannot be in her right mind. Once there is a paper, I may see that you are cared for somewhere quiet. You need not trouble yourself with the estate any longer.”

Verity heard the clock tick above the mantel. Henshaw asked whether anyone approached her claiming to act on a physician’s advice. She thought of his grave expression and wished she had asked him to remain another day.

“No physician who speaks to me could believe that,” she retorted.

“Then I hope you will speak to him calmly.”

Roland gathered the lease from the writing table and tapped its edges into order. “There is nothing unlawful in caring for an unwell wife. The law gives me the power to do what is needed.”

Whether the physician had promised anything, Verity could not tell. Roland wanted her to imagine a signed paper before one existed. Mrs. Fenwick’s note, Win’s account of the ball, the visitors who had heard her anger in the yard … he had been collecting a story to place beside it.

“Tunstall stays,” she said. “I have told him so, and if you refuse to pay his wages, I shall pay them myself.”

Roland looked up. “That is still your answer?”

“Yes.”

“Then we have little more to discuss.”

Verity turned for the door. Roland rose at once. He reached it before she did and stood in the opening, so close that she had to stop or strike against him.

“Move aside.”

“You have worked yourself into a state.”

“I am leaving.”

“You may go when you have recovered your composure.”

She tried to pass. He put a hand against her shoulder and pushed her back. It was a small movement, firm enough to make her lose a step. She caught the edge of the desk.

From the corridor came another man’s tread. Roland looked past her and called to him. Verity saw a broad figure of a hard-faced man stop at the threshold. She assumed he had newly come into Roland’s employ.

“Stay outside this door,” Roland told him. “Lady Edgeworth is not to be disturbed.”

The man glanced at Verity, then lowered his eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

“Win will come looking for me,” she said.

“I shall tell Mrs. Hale you need rest.”

Roland stepped out and shut the door. The lock turned. Verity heard him give the man one more quiet instruction, too low for her to distinguish. Then his footsteps moved away.

A few moments later, horses were brought round in the yard. She crossed to the window. Roland mounted beneath it, accepted a packet of papers from a groom and rode toward the tenant farms as though he had merely delayed a morning’s business.

Verity tested the door. The lock held. On its other side, the man shifted his weight. She could hear the faint scrape of a boot.