The Earl's Keeper

Four - Challenge Accepted

William went out of the parlour to find his butler. He needed to ensure the guest bedrooms be organised far, oh so very far, from his own.

To his suprise, though it should not have been as Colin was as loyal as he was competent, the bedrooms had already been organisesd as so. The guests in the East wing while he and the Wife resided in the West Wing.

Upon his return, he was once again surprised, to find that the armchair that once contained his Wife, was no longer occupied.

George offered him a knowing smirk while Charles had resorted to sitting across from his own wife. Avoiding the chair that had been used by Mia, he perched on the edge of the little circular table betwixt the two. William rolled his eyes at that, and schooled his annoyance.

"Where is she, George?" He found that he could not keep at bay the annoyance he felt towards Mia though. His voice was very controlled yet very, very peeved. The nerve of the chit to dissapear without telling him, her husband, in front of the likes of this company! Upon her very first introduction as the countess! He could feel his blood begin to boil the longer he dwelled on it.

George watched his brother's face carefully. He could see the varying emotions, annoyance, embarrassment, anger, mayhap even jealously, flicker in the depths of those eyes. It amused him thoroughly.

"Well, she spoke of retiring for the night, and eloquently excused herself." He emphasised the very word he knew would irk his brother. Who was he to deprive his beloved sibling of embracing his foul mood.

The jumping vein on William's temple, and the twitch of his jaw, proved true.

"And my, what a soothing, delicate voice she has, dear brother. You ought to count yourself lucky she sounds like a charming woman, rather than a childish chit or worse - even a husky man!"

William glowered at the man. He mumbled an excuse and set off toward the west wing. George's mocking laughter followed him out of the parlour. As did Bethany's calculating look, as her mind whirred to pick up on the double meanings. Looking for something to nitpick at.

Quick, long strides took him past the foyer and up the grand staircase. He took a turn into the hallway of the first floor, and walked straight past his bedchamber to hers. His fist paused, to knock, over her door. Ignoring the rational side that said to let it be, or even to ask permission to enter, he turned the handle and thrust it open. Thinking all the whole: I'll be damned to ask permission in my own house!

***

Mia had not yet gotten to locking her door. She reserved that task for when she was truly ready to sleep in bed and nothing more. So imagine her surprise when it swung inwards, so violently, she thought she saw the doorframe shake.

Her face did not betray her surprise, as the figure in the doorway had wanted. This only served to irk him more. Fuelling his ire towards the lady.

***

William had found her sitting at the vanity, gently combing her hair with a silver handled brush. A task to which she continued without so much as a pause. Her eyes had flickered to the door, watching through the reflection of the mirror, before darting away back to her task. Nonchalance a porcelain mask to her face.

The strong, looming figure of William Berkeley strode towards her, the door slamming shut from a deft kick behind him. She noted his face was set hard, his eyes now the darkest feature of all. She glimpsed them briefly. Having deepened to a myriad tropical ocean storm. It almost stole her breath away, as beautiful as thy were. But she dared not meet his eyes now.