Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The two men fell silent. Townsend added some more marital qualities in his mind. A woman who lives and breathes nature and rescues helpless animals. A woman who responds to your boldest caresses without coyness or reproach. A woman who loved you from the start, though you didn’t deserve it.
“I ought to go home. I must go home and see her.” He looked down at his ransacked plate. Where were his manners? But he needed to fix things with his wife. “Sorry to eat and run, but I need to go home and mend what I’ve broken. I don’t know how, but I… I’ve got to make an attempt.”
Wescott gave him an understanding smile. “Try not to worry too much, Towns. I can tell you from experience that women possess a great facility for forgiveness, much as we men rarely deserve it. As long as you love her, all will be well.”
“I hope you’re right.” He paused at the door. “Give Ophelia and your sisters my best.”
“I will. Now get out of here.”
Townsend accepted his hat and cane from the butler and started the short walk home in the crisp night air. He tried to make plans for what to say or do when he arrived, but then realized it would probably be best to let his heart guide him. Wescott’s words were true, they had to be. As long as he never stopped loving her…
He arrived home ready to sprint up the stairs to beg his wife’s forgiveness, to grovel if he must, but the butler stopped him before he could hand over his hat.
“There has been an incident, my lord, in the kitchens. A most unfortunate one.”
The butler’s voice was steady, for he was eminently versed in decorum, but Townsend could read the anxiety in his tone. “What has happened?” he asked, thrusting his hat at him. “Lady Townsend?”
“She is safe, my lord, but you are needed in the kitchens at once.”
The butler handed Townsend’s hat and cane to a footman and followed along behind him as he ran toward the servants’ wing. He tore through the kitchen door to discover a room in chaos. Maids were chattering in groups. Footmen wrung their hands. The housekeeper accosted him with tears in her eyes.
“There was no one here, my lord,” she said. “You gave the kitchen staff the night off. I don’t know who left the cage open. The snake escaped and…and…”
“Where is my wife?” he shouted, his voice carrying over the shrieks, screams, and sobs. The servants parted to reveal Jane standing just beyond them, gazing into the corner.
“It is natural,” she said, turning to him with tears glistening in her eyes. “It is how snakes naturally act.”
“What do you mean? What has happened?”
She tried to hold her composure, but her features collapsed. “He has… He has consumed…”
She could not seem to say what he had consumed, but a glance about the kitchen brought the situation horribly clear. No one had been there, and one of the staff had left the snake’s cage open. The maids stood sobbing around Bouncer’s enclosure, with its reach-in top.
“Oh, Janie,” he said. “Oh no.”
“It is natural,” she repeated, her raw voice cracking with emotion. “I cannot be angry with him.”
The cook berated some scullery boys in the corner, threatening to beat them and turn them out as they sobbed their innocence. Anyone might have peeked in at the snake and left the latch half closed by accident. “Stop yelling,” he snapped at the cook. “Let them be.”
“It was an accident,” his wife said, as if these steady explanations might erase the tragedy. “No one is to be punished for this. Pythons eat small prey. They…they squeeze them until they’ve died and then consume them, and Mr. Cuddles has done this…and…”
Townsend went to his wife, not knowing what to do, how to help. The snake was a long, pale line along the far wall, with the bulging outline of a freshly ingested meal distending its usual sleekness. “I am so sorry,” he said, holding out his arms for her.
She threw herself into his embrace, erupting in noisy tears.
Chapter Seventeen
Forgiveness
Jane had told herself she would not do this. She had not wanted to sob in front of everyone, especially not in this uncontrolled way, but when Edward offered his arms, she realized she was not strong enough to maintain her composure. Oh, it was so awful. What had happened to poor little Bouncer was too awful to think about.
She clung to her husband, seeking solace if not healing. He felt as solid as ever. Though she’d regarded him as a stranger for days now, he was not really a stranger, especially now when she needed him. His arms were warm and supportive. His chest rose and fell against hers.
“I cannot be angry with Mr. Cuddles,” she said in between crying.