Lord Beast

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The name meant nothing to him but it had been spoken as if it should.

Rhys turned to give the woman a cold look. "State your business and then leave."

The woman gave him a very hurt glance that conveyed as much sincerity as a notorious gambler vowing that he was about to play his last hand. "I am offended that you would not remember me," she told him petulantly. "Surely if you just try-"

"Lady Pennyworth," Rhys gritted out, his hands clenching at his sides, "as I said before, I am a very busy man. If you have something of import to say to me, then say it and be done. Otherwise, you will excuse my rudeness as I leave you to your own devices."

She smiled, a conniving, guileful twist of her lips that was unpleasant to behold. "My, the scars are quite horrible, are they not?" she murmured quietly, reflectively. "I'm sure it must have been terribly painful and all those years, alone and isolated. How awful for you, my lord."

Rhys muttered something derogatory about menacing woman and began to turn away from her again, intending to rid himself of her company when the damned Lady Pennyworth began to walk after him.

"Isn't it curious," she pondered aloud, panting slightly as she struggled to keep up with his wide gait, "how Miss Carmichael succeeded where I did not? All those years between the accident and now must have made you soft to the ways of a woman."

What the devil was the silly woman talking about? Rhys ignored her, or at least tried to, but her voice was gratingly loud and it would take a deaf person not to take notice of the bitter words that oozed from her lips like poison.

"Oh, I suppose we all can't be as lucky as Miss Carmichael," she sighed raggedly and Rhys was sure she meant to sound wistful but the pace he had set contributed to the wheezing sounds coming from behind him. "Or as smart, I'm sure. Not even the wiliest of tricks could force you to the altar five years ago. Miss Carmichael must be quite a performer-"

Being a man of bad temperament as it was and having to endure a week that he had, the appearance of Lady Pennyworth had frayed a thread that was already in a disreputable state. Now, that thread seemed to break with an ominous twang as Rhys's anger made the blood pound in his temples. He whirled to face the troublesome woman, a wolfish glower of ferociousness pummelling into her. "I suggest," he ground out with barely contained fury, "that you remove your person from my property before I throw you into the sea."

Lady Pennyworth stiffened notably and frowned. "You don't believe me?" she asked, astounded.

"Frankly, only an idiot would believe the loathsome words you utter, madam."

She gasped, offended, before glowering at him so venomously, so hatefully, that Rhys thought her face might have changed completely into a spectre he could not recognise. "You may not remember," she spat, "but I do. I remember the Earl of Falmouth who would discard the women who crossed his path without blinking an eye, women far more beautiful than Miss Carmichael." She pointed her finger at him and Rhys fought the urge to break it. "I only serve to warn you of your folly, of your softness, to prevent you from making the mistake of marrying the deceitful little-"

"Be careful what you say about my wife," Rhys barked, infuriated. "If you are not removed from my presence in due haste I will see to it that you are escorted from it."

Lady Pennyworth gave him one last furious glance before turning on her heel and marching back towards the drive where her elaborate phaeton was waiting for her.

Allowing a moment for his temper to cool, Rhys watched her march gracelessly back to her transport. She was the most unpleasant woman he'd ever had the chance to encounter and he sought to eradicate the aftereffects of the meeting. She seemed to know him, from where he wasn't sure as he could not recall ever having met the unpleasant woman, but back when he did the circuits he never put much credence into his interviews with debutantes. A niggling worm of unease unfolded in his mind and Rhys speculated whether there was any significance in her sudden presence. He made a mental note to find out just who the devil Patricia Pennyworth was.