Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Walking along the main road that led away from the house gave Joseph time to think about what had happened with Lydia last night. But it didn't bring him the same satisfaction as holding her while their lips embarked on a rare discovery of sensual compatibility.

Yes, Lydia was a virgin, and a rather clinical one at that. She certainly approached her new experiences with a curious mind. Yet that nymph had kissed and caressed him last night like a siren hypnotizes a sailor into a trance-like state with her irresistible song.

When she wasn't throwing him off the balcony, of course.

That was by far the wildest and most memorable kissing experience Joseph had ever had. He had the wounds to prove it.

But all thoughts of Lydia had to be put on hold for now as Joseph and Henry sat with their brother Oliver in their father's private study to talk. Something had to be done to prevent their middle brother from further bad behavior.

"Put the bottle down, Oliver. It's time to confess your sins." Joseph grabbed the decanter of port from Oliver's hand and pointed at a leather chair. "I will get you some water. Now sit and start talking."

Oliver collapsed in the leather chair and buried his head in his hands. "Sophia doesn't love me anymore."

Henry sat in the chair opposite Oliver's and poured himself a cup of strong tea from the tray a maid had delivered to the study. "Has she said as much or are you putting words in her mouth, brother?"

"I haven't put anything in that woman's mouth in ages." Oliver lifted his head as a smile tugged at his lips and threatened to spread across his face.

Joseph laughed, but Henry scowled.

"Don't be crude, Oliver. It's beneath you."

"Ah, but there hasn't been anyone beneath me in ages, either!" This time Oliver grinned, then he slapped his knee and slumped back against the soft leather cushion. "Henry, there is no point in you saying a damn thing. Your wife is an angel and a fine example of a pleasing partner. Whereas my wife is a frigid, weepy, soulless, empty—"

"That's enough, Oliver. We're not here to speak ill of Sophia. We're here to support you and help you get back on your feet. If that doesn't work, we're here to teach you a lesson for pure entertainment." Joseph handed his brother a tall glass of water, then took the third leather chair in the grouping of four placed around a center table. "It's your choice, but I warn you that I'm too sore from my fall to keep this up for long, so Henry will have to take the lead."

"My pleasure entirely." Henry mock-saluted Joseph, then glared at Oliver again. "I've grown tired of your whining, brother, especially when it happens in the middle of Mama's most important event of the year. It makes us all look bad. It also makes our mother much more difficult to ignore when the guests leave and the festivities are over. You can bet her anger will boil over soon, and right over each of our heads. That's the last thing my wife needs to be dealing with right now."

"Oh, well, pardon me, little brother, if my despair ruins your pretty life with your pretty wife. I'm surprised, though, as Maria doesn't seem like a complainer to me. Other than when you bore her to death in bed," Oliver growled, daring to goad Henry as he had done since they were kids.

"How dare you!" Henry bolted out of his chair and landed with his knees on Oliver's thighs and his hands around his brother's neck.

"Henry, stop!" Joseph managed to pull Henry away from Oliver before either of them got badly hurt, but it was clear their talk was going nowhere. He had to try a different approach or they'd all get their backsides kicked by their father before the day was through.

If they survived each other first.

"Oliver, our biggest concern is your addiction to drink, in addition to your dependency on self-pity. How can we help you, brother? Do you need some time away to clear your head?" Joseph handed him a cloth to wipe the thin line of blood trickling from his nose and pressed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"None of us are going anywhere with the roads destroyed, Joseph. I think we need a temporary solution within the confines of this household." Henry felt the tenderness around his left eye that would likely be a large bruise by tomorrow.

Joseph shook his head and returned to his seat. However, he didn't pity his youngest brother's pain. He should have been prepared for Oliver's legendary left hook.

"What I need is a wife who gives a damn, but I'll take a room on the other side of the house for now." Oliver hung his head again, then lifted it with a sudden burst of energy. "No, wait. She can move to a room on the other side of the house! This is the Winstone Estate, not the pitiful-wife-gets-whatever-she-wants estate. Her rejection of me deserves an ejection from our little love nest, where I shall curse her name in my dreams." Henry glanced at Joseph and smirked. "So much for the road to recovery. This has been fun, brothers. Let's do it again sometime."

Joseph sighed and took a long drink from his own water glass. Henry was usually the most even-tempered of the three Penton sons, but today he was abnormally cranky. Maybe Oliver's behavior had finally made him snap, as had been the case for the rest of them for months.

He ignored Henry's sarcasm and turned back to the brother that needed him the most. "I think separate rooms for now is a good idea, Oliver. We will make that happen as soon as we leave Father's study. Do you want help speaking with Sophia about it?"

"Don't bother, Joseph. Just have her things moved to the room farthest from mine and then congratulate her for her good fortune." Oliver combed a hand through his disheveled dark blonde hair and groaned.

"Self-pity, indeed." Henry scoffed.

Joseph pressed his hands together, closed his eyes, and ran through his mental list of mounting concerns. The roads were impassable, the Pentons were unprepared for taking care of so many guests for the long-term, Oliver was losing his mind, Sophia was caught speaking alone with another man, and Lydia Carter was driving him to distraction with their uniquely beguiling arrangement that was literally causing him physical harm. All of which collided together in just one damn day!

What else could possibly go wrong?

***

"Miss Underwood! What a surprise to find you out here in the muddy garden. Do you need assistance?" Joseph had been headed to the orangery for a moment of peace when he'd come across Wilhelmina seated on a bench near a very large puddle.

"On the contrary, my lord. I rather enjoy the aftermath of a storm and the signs of its power over the vulnerable landscape." Wilhelmina smiled and twirled a frilly black umbrella above her head.

She was dressed in all black as if mourning the loss of someone. Joseph hoped that someone wasn't him. Since proposing to Lydia yesterday, he thought he'd detected a sinister shift in Miss Underwood's intense dark blue eyes, but he was probably mistaken. There was no reason to think fickle and flirtatious Wilhelmina Underwood had fixated on him as her chosen mate, other than her forward behavior at yesterday's dinner before he'd asked Lydia to marry him.

"How are you feeling today, Lord Winstone? I hear you had a terrible fall last night."

"I wouldn't say it was a terrible fall, but thank you for your concern. Apart from some scratches, I am well. I hope your stay with us has been comfortable so far. Is there anything you need?" The question tumbled out of his mouth before he considered the response he might attract from a woman known for her brazen approach to, well, everything.

"What I need, my lord, is tantalizing entertainment. And I believe I have already found it."

Wilhelmina grinned wide enough that Joseph noticed for the first time that she had prominent canine teeth on each side of her mouth. At a quick glance, they looked like subtle versions of the fangs of a wolf.

"Well, then. I'm glad for your good fortune, Miss Underwood. Have a pleasant day." Joseph bowed and turned to resume his path to the orangery. A few feet from the door, he heard footsteps behind him and whirled back around.

Wilhelmina was following him, still twirling her black umbrella above her mass of jet-black hair wrapped in black lace and piled on the top of her head.

"Was there something else, Miss Underwood?" Joseph felt his nerve endings sparking throughout his body. The static air between himself and Wilhelmina felt full of electric energy, too.

"No, my lord. I was going to enjoy a stroll through the orangery. Oh, wait! Is that where you were going?" Wilhelmina fluttered her long black eyelashes and gave her umbrella another spin.

"Yes, but I am happy to come back later, as it would not be proper for us to spend time in there alone together. Enjoy your afternoon." Joseph felt his mouth going dry each second longer he stayed in her company. In fact, he felt like a cornered animal and wasn't sure why.

"Of course. Thank you, my lord. We all know the rules aren't the same for orangeries as they are for balconies! Good day, sir. I wish you a much safer day today with far fewer missteps."

Miss Underwood grinned and dragged her muddy hem through a puddle at Joseph's feet without caring about the dirt she collected along the way. Then she disappeared through the orangery door.

Joseph's heart raced as he squeezed his fists together and walked briskly back toward the main house.

There was no denying Miss Underwood's message. She knew about Joseph's rendezvous with Lydia on the balcony last night. And the entertainment she'd claimed to find was no doubt about to turn his and Lydia's lives upside down.