The Defiant Wife (The Three Mrs #2) - Jess Michaels Page 0,22
turned to face Mrs. Barton, who had stepped from the breakfast room to greet her. “Good morning,” she said, and was glad her tone sounded normal when her heart was racing.
“I hope you slept well,” Mrs. Barton said. “Will you need anything this morning?”
“Oh, no. You and Mr. Barton take care of your duties, I’m fine. I’m going to Mr. Montgomery’s study.” As Mrs. Barton’s face fell, Pippa shrugged. “We have to go through his things at some point. The future will come—we must be prepared for it.”
Mrs. Barton worried her hands before her. “Do you have any idea what we can expect of that future? What Lord Leighton has in mind?”
Pippa hesitated. “We have not yet had a long discussion on that topic,” she admitted. “But I can tell you that his lordship is a man who can be trusted. I believe he acts in good faith, toward all of us. But I know the uncertainty is uneasy, so I will inform you as soon as I have further news.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mrs. Barton said. “Very good.”
The housekeeper gave a nod as Pippa headed up the hall to the study. As she entered, she let her breath out in a long sigh. She’d seen the hesitation on her housekeeper’s face. Mrs. Barton had doubted her when she spoke of Rhys’s character.
And why not? After all, she had once believed in Erasmus.
“But it wasn’t the same,” she whispered. And that was true. Her connection with Erasmus had always been built on…uncertainty. She’d thought him a free spirit. He’d show up when he pleased, surprise her with gifts or expectations that she would drop everything to do as he desired. Even after their marriage, she’d never fully been able to get a handle on who and what he was.
Much to her own detriment in the end.
But Rhys was different. No brothers could have been so opposite. Where Erasmus was scattered, Rhys was steady. He was calm in the storm—he wasn’t the storm, itself. The only place that seemed untrue was when he touched her.
She glanced at the spot in the room where he had kissed her the previous afternoon. She recalled that rumble of his chest as he took her mouth, the tension that seemed to flow through every muscle of his body. Then she felt the danger beneath the surface. The barely contained power of his desire.
And foolishly she wanted it, despite having suffered for such things in the past.
She blinked and tried to clear her head. She hadn’t come here to moon over Rhys or dissect the lesser points of her marriage. She had work to do and she was going to do it.
She sat in the chair behind the desk. Erasmus hadn’t liked her in this room during their ill-fated union. When he was out of town, he locked it and took the only key with him. She’d had Mr. Barton break the lock in order to get in before she left for London, when she was trying to find Erasmus to confront him.
The seat was uncomfortable. Too hard, like the cushion hadn’t been often used so it was never broken in. It seemed a room meant for work was only for show for Erasmus. Just like everything else in his life was for show.
She shook her head as she yanked open the top drawer of the desk. It was full of papers and tangled ribbons and dust. She’d dug through the items there looking for an address weeks and weeks ago, but never looked deeper. Now her heart throbbed as she stared at the messy pile.
Before she could get too far, the door to the study opened. She looked up, expecting Mrs. Barton to be there with a cup of tea, but instead it was Rhys who now stood in the entryway. He stared at her and she at him before she forced herself to her feet.
“G-Good morning,” she stammered. Oh, why couldn’t he be less attractive to her? Why couldn’t this be easy?
“Phillipa,” he said, his voice rough. “It seems we had the same thought.”
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose we must have. Though I admit I’m surprised to see you up so early.”
He pursed his lips. “I’ve never been interested in the life of a layabout.” He stepped into the room and looked around. His eyes lingered on the same place hers had a short time before. The place before the fire where they’d kissed.