When his grandfather did with a groan, he said, “Those laws are an opportunity.”
“An opportunity for riots.”
“To fan the flames of change.”
“Hm.” He’d been at the center of movements fueled by human fear. Had the scars to show for it, could still hear the despair in the men’s voices, understood well how it gathered violence in their fists. “Let me know if they need a body in a fight. I’ll be there.”
“You always are.” His grandfather chuckled. “Things seems to have quieted down a bit in the last year. The battle more intellectual than physical now. But… I’m not sure you should be in the fray anymore. You have a wife.” Not a hint of humor in those last four words. “Where is she? And why is your eye swelling?”
Felix busied himself making a fire though it was too damn hot for one. “She’s at Hawthorne. And the eye was a bit of a public service.”
“Usually is. And I know.”
“Know what?” Felix fumbled with the tinderbox.
“Where your wife has been the entirety of your marriage.”
Hell.“Grandfather, you—”
“Do notGrandfatherme. I want to know why you’re living apart.” He rolled forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he pinned Felix with a glare he’d long since learned to run from. “And I want to know why your wife, Viscountess Foxton, is living alone, with no servants, in a house that is falling apart.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Windows broken. The roof only just fixed.”
The housewasold. And neglected. He knew that. But not unlivable. “She’s not alone. The servants…” But, tinderbox forgotten, fire abandoned without a single spark in the grate, Felix had begun to panic. “She’s not alone… is she?”
“She’s got a maid. A single damn maid, Felix!” His grandfather creaked to his feet, palms pressing against his thighs to help him stand. “I do not know what is happening between you two, but you are close to shaming me.”
“You’re not… lying?”
“No.”
“Embellishing?”
“No!” Grandfather spat the word. “Your wife is living with a single maid in a huge house falling down around her head. And here you are”—he stabbed Felix in the upper arm with his finger—“living safe and dry in London. Do you have any defense for that?”
“No. We… she wanted to live there.”
“And you let her?” His grandfather was roaring now, but Felix barely heard him. A river rushed between his ears, blocking almost every sound out. He only barely heard his grandfather say, “You let her go to that place? It’s been abandoned fordecades.”
“I didn’t know…. how bad… it was.” The last time he’d been there it had been pristine. But for the odor of death, of despair, but for the darkness. But before that, it had been a child’s ideal—sun and gardens and smiling faces around every corner. His home. He’d felt…fineletting Caroline go there because she deserved sun and space and smiles, a welcome place to grieve in, and… “I didn’t know. I didn’t think.”
“That much is quite clear. You get her back here.Now. Viscountess Foxton cannot remain in that place. Your wife,our Caro—she cannot stay there. Do you understand?”
God, he did. He took a hesitant step toward the door. “Is it really that bad?”
“Go see for yourself.”
His grandfather was a crafty man. He’d done his best to see Felix and Caro married. He could be bluffing now. Had to be.
Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “She married me for Hawthorne. Has some mad idea to renovate it, to be left alone.” And he was glad to let her have what she wanted. Best for him, too. He’d almostkissedher on their wedding day. Thank God she’d stopped him. Once begun, he might not have been able to stop.Thatposed a problem. Especially since sparks of that almost kiss remained in him somehow, lingering in the crevices of his skin, threatening ignition. Threatening his long-curated ability to resist her. He dreaded what he might do when he saw her once more. “I know you are full of tricks, old man.”
“Today, I’m full of rage. You had better see to the safety of your wife, Felix Canterbury, or I’ll strip you of everything unentailed.” His hands—fists. His eyes—blue coals. His usually genial lips—a slash like a knife blade across his face. He was angry. Serious. Truthful.
Felix cursed and made for the stairs. He needed a bath then to pack. “I can be there before nightfall. But I cannot guarantee she’ll listen to anything I have to say.”
“She’s your wife.”
