"You joining me?" Charles said as he staggered to his feet.
"My lord!"
"I wouldn't mind taking up where we left off." He paused to hiccup three times in rapid succession. "If you know what I mean."
"My lord," Ellie said sternly, "the brandy has made your tongue deplorably loose."
"Has it? I wonder what it's done to your tongue." He swayed toward her, and Ellie darted out of the way just seconds before his lips would have connected with hers. Unfortunately, this caused him to lose his balance, and he tumbled to the floor.
"Heavens above!" Ellie burst out. "If you've torn open your stitches, God help me, I will flay you alive."
He blinked and planted his hands on his hips. This didn't lend him much dignity, however, as he was still sitting on the floor. "That seems rather counterproductive, don't you think?"
Ellie let out a long-suffering sigh. "Sally, will you help me in setting the earl on his feet?"
Sally immediately moved to help her, and in a few moments they had Charles on his feet and out the door. Thankfully, three grooms had come with the carriage. Ellie didn't think that the two women would have been able to get him into it on their own.
The ride home was uneventful, as Charles fell asleep. Ellie was grateful for that—it was a most welcome respite. She had to wake him up again when they arrived home, however, and by the time she and the grooms got him up to his room, she thought she might scream. He had tried to kiss her fourteen times on the stairs, which wouldn't have bothered her so much if he weren't drunk, completely heedless of the presence of the servants, and in danger of bleeding to death if he fell and broke open his stitches.
Well, she privately allowed, he probably wasn't going to bleed to death, but it certainly made for an effective threat when she finally lost her temper and yelled, "Charles, if you don't stop this this instant, I am going to let you fall and you can bleed to death for all I care!"
He blinked. "Stop what?"
"Trying to kiss me," she ground out, quite unhappy that she'd been forced to say the words in front of the servants.
"Why not?" He leaned forward again, his lips puckered.
"Because we are on the stairs."
He cocked his head and regarded her with a puzzled expression. "Funny how you can talk without opening your mouth."
Ellie tried to unclench her teeth this time before speaking, but she wasn't successful. "Just keep going up the stairs and to your room, if you please."
"And then I can kiss you?"
"Yes! Fine!"
He sighed happily. "Oh, good."
Ellie groaned and tried to ignore the way the footmen were trying to hide their grins.
A minute or so later they nearly had him into his room, but Charles suddenly stopped short and blurted out. "Do you know what your problem is, Ellie, m'dear?"
She kept trying to push him down the hall. "What?"
"You're too damned good at everything."
Ellie wondered why that didn't sound like a compliment.
"I mean—" He waved his good arm expansively, causing him to lurch forward, which required Ellie and both of the footmen to grab him before he tumbled to the ground.
"Charles, I don't think this is the time," she said.
"Y'see," he said, ignoring her, "I thought I wanted a wife I could ignore."
"I know." Ellie looked desperately at the footmen as they pushed Charles onto his bed. "I believe I can handle him from here."
"Are you certain, my lady?"
"Yes," she muttered. "With any luck he'll pass out soon."
The footmen looked dubious, but they filed out nonetheless.
"Close the door behind you!" Charles hollered.
Ellie spun around and crossed her arms. "You do not make an attractive drunk, my lord."
"Really? You once told me you liked me best drunk."
"I have reconsidered."
He sighed. "Women."
"The world would be a far less civilized place without us," she said with a sniff.
"I agree wholeheartedly." He burped. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, I wanted a wife so I could ignore her."
"A fine specimen of English good cheer and chivalry, you are."' she said under her breath.
"What was that? Didn't hear you. Ah well, doesn't matter. Anyway, here is what happened."
Ellie looked at him with an expression of sarcastic eagerness.
"I ended up with a wife who can ignore me." He jabbed himself in the chest and yelped, "Me!"
She blinked. "I beg your pardon."
"You can do anything. Stitch up my arm, make a fortune. Well, aside from blowing up my kitchen ..."
"Now, see here!"
"Hmm, and you did mess up the orangery something awful, but I did receive a note from Barnes calling you quite the most intelligent female he'd ever met. And the tenants like you better than they ever liked me."
She crossed her arms. "Do you have a point?"
"No." He shrugged. "Well, I probably do, but I'm having a bit of trouble getting to it."
"I would never have noticed."
"Thing is, you don't need me for a damned thing."
"Well, that is not entirely true ..."
"Isn't it?" He suddenly looked a touch more sober than he had the moment before. "You've got your money. You've got your new friends. What the hell do you need a husband for? I'm clearly ignorable."
"I'm not sure I'd say that..."
"I could make you need me, I s'pose."