Frazer’s home consisted of four large square rooms and a central corridor that ran from front door to back like many of the tenant cottages on the estate. A bedroom and kitchen at the back; a sitting room and second bedroom in the front. It was neat and practical and on the whole well cared for.
Mrs. Frazer was not in the sitting room or front bedroom, which were both as neat and tidy as a lady could hope to find. However, Frazer stood in the hall, indecision clear on his face and in his stance. He did not like her very much she was sure, and if not for Felix’s intimidating presence, Sally would not have the courage to speak up. “Well, where is Mrs. Frazer?”
“Gone,” he grumbled, his face flushing the hot red of anger.
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
He stumbled deeper into the sitting room and took a letter off the mantel. He held it, stared at it, and then shoved it in her direction. “I can guess what it says.”
Felix took the letter before she could open it, his eyes locked on Frazer. “Sally, my dear, would you mind stepping outdoors? Actually, I insist you do. I will take care of this.”
If Mrs. Frazer was not within the house, Sally had no reason or wish to linger. She had discovered what she needed to know most of all, so she did not mind complying with Felix’s request to leave.
In fact she was relieved. There were days when dealing with rough-and-tumble men like Frazer was difficult, and there was often no one but herself to cope.
Sally made it as far as the gate before a window shattered behind her back. She spun around as shards of glass rained down on the grass below the little cottage, the victim of a thrown chair. “Felix!” she screamed.
Her maid and footman restrained her when she would have returned to the house. “Stay back, my lady.”
An unholy din, splintering wood and breaking china, lasted but a few moments. Then all was silent within. Sally trembled. She had not heard a shot ring out from the pistols Felix carried on his person, but she was still worried. He had carried a knife. Frazer was the larger man and Felix could be hurt even if he was armed. He could need her help. “Let me go.”
Felix emerged from the house the moment the words left her mouth. He appeared unscathed, his expression sober and unruffled by the commotion that had just taken place. He joined her at the gate, casting one last
look behind him.
“She fell in love with someone else,” he said simply. “We have done enough here. He will not starve. Back to the horses, everyone.”
When the servants were gone, Sally gripped Felix’s arm. “Are you all right?”
“I was never in any danger, but he has wrecked the place.” Felix slid his palm down her spine and held it against her lower back. The touch was comforting after the fright she had just endured, and heat rushed down her limbs and warmed her through and through. He pushed her toward her horse very gently, voice pitched low for her ears only. “He is heartbroken, and it would be best if he was left to grieve in peace. He could not read the letter himself but did not want to ask for your help. He is very embarrassed.”
“I understand.” Sally faced the house, loathe to go. “But I cannot leave him like this.”
“A man like Frazer will not ever ask for your help, and in his current state of mind, a woman would only be a reminder of his disappointment.” He sighed, wrapped her arm around his, and drew her away. “I have known men like him before. They would bleed out from a wound rather than admit an enemy bested them.”
She stared at him. “Surely not.”
“The trick is to ignore the outburst and give them no choice in the decision to fix things.” Felix forced her to her horse, helped her mount, but then paused beside her leg. He straightened her gown over the stirrup, frowning at the cloth. He pitched his voice lower still. “I told him someone would visit in a few days to begin repair of the window, but I strongly suggest you do not come without me or someone more important than a pair of slightly built servants. He is very bitter. She had told him she loved him, and her change of heart has robbed him of all civility.”
“Oh dear.” When Felix had abandoned her, she had wanted to scream and rage even though it was she who had stopped their wedding after learning he was marrying her to advance his career. She envied Frazer his loss of control even if she was terrified of it. “I understand how that feels.”
“Hmm, I thought you might say that.” He glanced up. “And I deserve your anger and more, I suppose.”
Sally pressed her lips together to keep herself from apologizing. She could not say she forgave him, and it was harder still to forget.
Chapter Twenty-One
They rode solemnly back to the stables in single file. And although Sally attempted to engage Felix in conversation, he appeared lost in thought and rarely smiled. Her enthusiasm for the journey had dimmed a great deal without his earlier merriment to encourage hers.
He did help her dismount when they reached the stables, but his reserved manner filled her with longing to see his earlier grin return.
She smiled warmly at him. “Next time you, sir, will ride a horse. I think Nero will do for you. He is a sweet and gentle older fellow.”
“There is no need to fuss about my lack of horsemanship.” He turned away to speak with the stable master who had finally come out to render aid. “Where were you?” he demanded.
“Helping Lady Louisa in the orchard, sir.” Dudley took Sally’s gray away while the footman led his and the maids’ horse toward their stalls.
Felix petted Long Peg fondly and then unhitched her himself. He might not ride a horse, but he seemed familiar enough with the strappings of a gig. Sally watched him in silence for a long while as his capable hands soothed the twitching pony. “When were you in Port Royal?”