Again, Hugh stared at his father in shock. He was admitting that Hugh had got the best of him? He never did that, even with something so small as a conversational parry.
"From your comments," Lord Ramsgate continued, "I can only deduce that you have not, in fact, proposed to Lady Sarah."
Hugh said nothing.
"My spies-as we seem to enjoy calling them-a.s.sure me that she would appear to be amenable to such a prospect."
Hugh still said nothing.
"The question is"-Lord Ramsgate shifted forward, leaning his elbows on the table-"what can I do to aid you in your suit?"
"Stay out of my life."
"Ah, but I can"t."
Hugh let out an exhausted sigh. He hated showing weakness in front of his father, but he was so b.l.o.o.d.y tired. "Why won"t you leave me alone?"
"You have to ask me that?" his father retorted, even though Hugh had clearly been talking to himself.
Hugh put one hand to his forehead and pinched at his temples. "Freddie might still marry," he said, but by now it was more out of habit than anything else.
"Oh, stop," his father said. "He wouldn"t know what to do with a woman if she pulled his c.o.c.k out and-"
"Stop!" Hugh roared, nearly upsetting the table as he lurched back to his feet. "Shut up! Just shut your b.l.o.o.d.y mouth!"
His father looked almost baffled at the outburst. "It"s the truth. The tested truth, I might add. Do you know how many wh.o.r.es I-"
"Yes," Hugh snapped. "I know exactly how many wh.o.r.es you locked in the room with him. It"s that b.l.o.o.d.y brain of mine. I can"t stop counting, remember?"
His father exploded with laughter. Hugh stared at him, wondering what the h.e.l.l could be so funny at such a moment.
"I counted, too," Lord Ramsgate gasped, nearly doubled over with mirth.
"I know," Hugh said without emotion. His room had always been next to Freddie"s. He"d heard everything. When Lord Ramsgate brought the prost.i.tutes to Freddie, he"d stayed to watch.
"Fat lot of good it did," Lord Ramsgate continued. "I thought it might help. Set a rhythm, you know."
"Oh, G.o.d," Hugh nearly groaned. "Stop." He could still hear it. Most of the time it had just been his father, but every now and then one of the women would get into the spirit of it and join in.
Lord Ramsgate was still chuckling as he stood back up. "One . . . ," he said, making a lewd gesture to go along with the count. "Two . . ."
Hugh recoiled. A memory flashed through his brain.
"Three . . ."
The duel. The count. He"d been trying not to remember. He"d been trying so hard to blot out the memory of his father"s voice that he"d flinched.
And he"d pulled the trigger.
He"d never meant to shoot Daniel. He"d been aiming to the side. But then someone had started counting, and suddenly Hugh was a boy again, huddled in his bed while he heard Freddie pleading with his father to leave him alone.
Freddie, who had taught Hugh never to interfere.
The counting hadn"t just been for the prost.i.tutes. Lord Ramsgate was very fond of his beautifully polished, mahogany cane. And he saw no reason to spare it when his sons displeased him.
Freddie always displeased him. Lord Ramsgate liked to count the blows.
Hugh stared at his father. "I hate you."
His father stared back. "I know."
"I"m leaving."
His father shook his head. "No, you"re not."
Hugh stiffened. "I beg your-"
"I didn"t want to have to do this," his father said, almost apologetically.
Almost.
Then he slammed his booted foot into Hugh"s bad leg.
Hugh howled in agony as he went down. He felt his body curling up, trying to contain the pain. "b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," he gasped. "Why would you do that?"
Lord Ramsgate knelt by his side. "I needed you not to leave."
"I"m going to kill you," Hugh ground out, still panting against the pain. "I"m going to b.l.o.o.d.y well-"
"No," his father said, pressing a damp, sweet-smelling cloth against his face, "you"re not."
Chapter Nineteen.
The Duke of York Suite The White Hart Inn When Hugh opened his eyes, he was in a bed. And his leg hurt like the devil. "What on earth?" he groaned, reaching over to ma.s.sage the screaming muscle. Except- b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had tied him down.
"Oh, you"re awake." His father"s voice. Mild and slightly . . . bored?
"I"m going to kill you," Hugh growled. He twisted against his bindings until he saw his father sitting in a chair in the corner, watching him over a newspaper.
"It"s possible," Lord Ramsgate said, "but not today."
Hugh yanked again. And again, but all he got for his trouble was a chafed wrist and a serious case of vertigo. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his equilibrium. "What the h.e.l.l is this about?"
Lord Ramsgate pretended to consider this. "I"m concerned," he finally said.
"About what?" Hugh ground out.
"I fear that you are taking too long with the lovely Lady Sarah. Who knows when we shall next find a woman willing to overlook"-Lord Ramsgate"s face wrinkled with distaste-"you."
This insult did not register. Hugh was well used to such barbs and at some point had begun to take pride in them. But his father"s comment about taking "too long" left him profoundly uneasy. "I have known Lady Sarah"-in this incarnation, at least, he added silently-"for barely two weeks."
"Is that all? It feels like quite a bit longer. A watched pot and all that, I suppose."
Hugh slumped. The world had clearly been turned inside out. His father, who usually ranted and raved while Hugh maintained an aloof disdain, was regarding him with nothing more than raised brows.
Hugh, on the other hand, was ready to spit nails.
"I"d hoped you"d be further along with your courtship by now," Lord Ramsgate said, pausing to turn a page in his newspaper. "When did it all start, again? Oh, yes, that night at Fensmore. With Lady Danbury. G.o.d, she"s an old bat."
Hugh felt ill. "How do you know this?"
Lord Ramsgate held up his hand and rubbed his fingers together. "I have people in my employ."
"Who?"
Lord Ramsgate c.o.c.ked his head, as if he was debating the wisdom of revealing this information. Then he shrugged and said, "Your valet. Might as well tell you. You would have figured it out."
Hugh stared at the ceiling in queasy shock. "He"s been with me for two years."
"Anyone can be bribed." The marquess lowered the newspaper and peered over the top. "Have I taught you nothing?"
Hugh took a breath and tried to remain calm. "You need to untie me right now."
"Not yet." Lord Ramsgate picked up the newspaper again. "Oh, b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, this wasn"t ironed." He set the paper back down and irritably inspected his hands, now streaked with black ink. "I hate travel."
"I must return to Whipple Hill," Hugh said in as reasonable a voice as he could muster.
"Really?" The marquess smiled blandly. "Because I heard you were leaving."
Hugh"s fingers curled into claws. His father was disturbingly well informed.
"I received a note from your valet while you were indisposed," Lord Ramsgate continued. "He wrote that you"d told him to pack your things. This concerns me, I must say."
Hugh yanked against his bonds, but they did not slip even a hairsbreadth. His father clearly knew his knots.
"I hope it won"t be much longer." Lord Ramsgate stood, walked over to a small basin, and dunked his hands. He picked up a small white cloth, then looked over his shoulder at Hugh to say, "We"re just waiting for the lovely Lady Sarah to arrive."
Hugh gaped at him. "What did you say?"
His father dried his hands with meticulous precision, then pulled out his pocket watch and snapped it open. "Soon, I should think." He glanced over at Hugh with an unnervingly mild expression. "Your man will have informed her by now of your whereabouts."
"Why the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l are you so certain she will come here?" Hugh snarled. But he sounded desperate. He could hear it in his own voice, and it terrified him.
"I"m not," his father replied. "But I"m hopeful." He glanced over at Hugh. "You should be, too. G.o.d only knows how long you"ll be stuck in that bed if she doesn"t."
Hugh shut his eyes and groaned. How on earth had he let his father get the best of him? "What was on that cloth?" he demanded. He still felt dizzy. And tired, as if he"d just run a mile at top speed. No, not that. He wasn"t breathless, just- His lungs felt shallow. Deflated. He didn"t know how else to explain it.
Hugh repeated his question, his voice rising with impatience. "What was on that cloth?"
"Eh? Oh, that. Oil of sweet vitriol. Clever stuff, isn"t it?"
Hugh blinked against the dots still swimming before his eyes. Clever was not quite the word he would have chosen.
"She"s not going to come to the White Hart," Hugh said, trying to keep his voice dismissive. Derisive. Anything that might lead his father to doubt the efficacy of his plan.
"Of course she will," Lord Ramsgate said. "She loves you, although G.o.d only knows why."
"Your paternal tenderness never ceases to amaze me." Hugh gave his bindings a little yank to further ill.u.s.trate the point.
"Wouldn"t you go to her if she"d run off to an inn?"
"That"s completely different," Hugh snapped.
Lord Ramsgate just smiled.
"You do realize that there are countless reasons why this will not work," Hugh said, trying to sound reasonable.
His father glanced over at him.
"It"s pouring, for one," Hugh improvised, trying to motion to the window with his head. "She"d have to be mad to go out in this."
"You did."
"You didn"t leave me much choice," Hugh said in a tight voice. "And furthermore, Lady Sarah has no reason to worry over my coming here to see you."
"Oh, come now," his father scoffed. "Our mutual distaste is no secret. I daresay everyone knows of it by now."
"Our mutual distaste, yes," Hugh said, aware that his words were spilling too quickly from his lips. "But she does not know how deep the enmity goes."
"You did not tell Lady Sarah of our"-Lord Ramsgate sneered-"contract?"
"Of course not," Hugh lied. "Do you think she"d accept my suit if she knew?"
His father considered that for a moment, then said, "All the more reason to carry out my plan."
"Which is?"
"Ensuring your marriage, of course."
"By tying me to a bed?"
His father smiled smugly. "And allowing her to be the one to release you."