Chapter 13
Sean Hartley, the footman, heard the crash from one floor below in the dining hall where he was polishing silver. The echo of shouting rumbled through the manor. It was not the kind of shouting he’d expected to hear on a honeymoon. This was all fury and rage. Sean got to his feet and headed for the dining hall doors. Viscount or not, no man would be hurting Lady Sheridan, not if Sean could help it. Raised by a single mother, he respected women and their defenselessness against the all too often violent temperaments of men. He would protect Lady Sheridan, even against his own master, consequences be damned.
“Hartley!” Lord Sheridan bellowed. “Get up here!”
Sean dropped the spoon in his hand and ran for the stairs. He passed Lady Sheridan on his way up. She appeared distraught.
