Never Fall for Your Fiancee

Chapter Twelve

Hugh was sick and tired of pacing the floor of his study. He’d paced it all afternoon because the minx only emerged from her bedchamber for dinner, predictably flanked by her annoying sisters and refusing to leave either of their sides or his mother’s afterward, to enable him to speak to her alone. The only communication had been the pointed glares she shot in his direction when she was certain nobody was looking, and those were so cold, they left no element of doubt as to the way she was feeling.

Minerva was seething.

Whereas Hugh’s anger had abandoned him when raw, visceral panic had taken its place upon learning his mother had arrived home early. Panic that his now-renegade fake fiancée seemed intent on cruelly fueling. Just as she had enjoyed twisting the carefully constructed backstory he had woven for nearly two years to make him a laughingstock in his own damn house! The way Minerva told it, Hugh had been a pathetic and ardent suitor from the outset. One she had been training to be a better man since. Silly Hugh. Unreliable Hugh. Self-centered and self-important … Thank goodness she had come along at the right time to fix all his myriad of faults before they became so ingrained, he was a lost cause.

His mother, of course, lapped it all up because Minerva was purposefully echoing all the things she had nagged him about for years. No doubt simply to torture him, she had just gone to bed on his mother’s arm, too, the pair of them gossiping like fast friends.

Meanwhile, Hugh was being left in the dark, forced to watch his meticulously orchestrated charade play out from the stalls rather than from the center of the stage, and he didn’t like it one bit. After their altercation this afternoon, the new Mercenary Minerva might well be royally stabbing him in the back—yet while she was being guarded by her loyal coven, he had no possible way of finding out.

It was all a huge mess, one that was making him so anxious he couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

Payne scratched on the door and let himself in, still plainly carrying the note he had sent to Minerva in an attempt to call a desperate truce to the hostilities.

“She refused to take it, my lord. She told me to tell you she still wasn’t speaking to you, which, she argued, included reading anything you have written.”

“Blasted woman! What does she think she is playing at?”

Payne simply shrugged, his expression deadpan.

“Do you think I am in the wrong?”

“I think the version of events you gave me is a bit different to the one Miss Minerva just apprised me of. In your version, you neglected to mention you were in high dudgeon well before your altercation with her.”

Of course she would have told him about Sarah, although Payne would have the good sense never to mention her directly. “I confess, I was in the highest of dudgeons after her sister threw another tantrum.” There was no denying Hugh hadn’t been himself when he had embarked on his necessary conversation with Minerva. “Vee would try the patience of a saint.”

“And you, my lord, were of course an angel.”

“I lost my temper, Payne, as anyone would when faced with unreasonableness.”

“Miss Minerva said you galloped off and almost caused her to fall from her horse, when you knew perfectly well she was a novice rider and lacked the confidence to cope well with that speed.”

“It was barely a trot.”

“She also called you a selfish, shallow brute.”

“Brute?”

“The lady’s exact words, my lord, and you will be pleased to know I challenged her comments.”

“Thank you, Payne.… I am a lot of things, but a ‘selfish, shallow brute’ isn’t one of them.”

“Indeed, my lord. I said to her, ‘Selfish and shallow I will grant you, because he is both in spades, but I have never known His Lordship to be brutish. Such a trait would take far too much effort.’” The butler smiled at Hugh’s narrowed eyes and dropped the note on Hugh’s desk. “If I might be so bold as to offer some advice, my lord.”

“As if I could stop you.”

“You had a tiff and are both still too aggrieved to be reasonable. Therefore, I suggest you both sleep on it and then discuss it in the morning. Rested, I am sure she will be in a much better frame of mind and more receptive to your apology.”

“I am not apologizing!”

“For a man who has such success with the ladies, it always surprises me how little you know about them.” Payne turned to leave.