“I’m not going to duel you. I’m not going to fight over a woman. She gets to choose what she wants to do with her life. Not me. Not you. Full stop. We’re married. This has happened. End of discussion.”
“Well...” Henry huffed; his chest puffed out before deflating. “I rode the last three days to get here.” His haggard features spoke to the truth of his claim. “I tried to prevent this, but failed. You’ve both made your bed, and I welcome you to lie in it. If you”—he directed his withering tone at Tuck—“think you’re going to be seeing a shilling from our family with this stunt, I can assure you that I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.”
“While I find your conduct utterly deplorable and unbecomingas a gentleman, I’ll have you know that Georgie is giving me a dowry and—”
“I don’t need to be paid to want to marry your sister.” Tuck dropped his voice low and leaned in. “And I’m going to advise for the last time that you discontinue any conversation that doesn’t include a congratulations and maybe a passing comment about the weather.” He gestured to the window, where rain had begun falling.
“What did Georgie say when you arrived?” Lizzy asked.
Henry’s grin was cold. “Let’s say she wasn’t the most congenial host.”
Tuck settled back, reading the situation. The guy’s pride had taken a hit and he wanted retribution. In a tight game, the primary focus had to be on the puck. Sure, there could be a soft focus on other factors, knowing the shooter’s usual “tells” or having the muscle memory to react to situations you’ve handled before. But right now, Tuck had no prior knowledge. His attention needed to zero in on the words coming from the brother’s mouth—that was the puck. Tuck had to observe, wait for the play, and be ready to step in and make the save.
“You didn’t even send word,” Lizzy retorted. “You no doubt showed up on her doorstep with a scheme to catch the unattended women in some form of mischief.”
“To which you exceeded my worst nightmares.”
“Were you horrible to her?”
Henry made a face. “I think the real concern should be how horrible they were tome. After I went to sleep with the stated intention to begin pursuing you in the morning, she and her wretched friend Jane locked me in my bedroom. It appears they thought that would trap me, but I climbed down the drainpipe. I got my horse and was en route before dawn.”
Tuck winced inwardly; those ladies wouldn’t be too happy with how things turned out.
“You appear supremely pleased with yourself.”
“You orchestrated the stunt, sister. I was merely a player in this affair. Naturally, I’ll need to apologize to Father for letting down the family. Nevertheless, the repercussions should squarely rest upon you.”
The guy was making the case for how to throw Lizzy under the bus as soon as possible.
“Our plan is to return to London tomorrow,” Lizzy explained. “I wasn’t trying to cause more disruption than necessary.”
“You’re never trying to cause disruption,” Henry snapped. “And yet somehow you always do. You have a rare talent for always making bad decisions. On that note, I’m going to retire. I don’t have the appetite you do for ruination.” He cast a scornful look at her half-empty plate. “Tomorrow we will begin the journey home.”
“Fine,” Lizzy said through clenched teeth.
“Fine.” He pushed back his chair and stood.
“And one last thing, Hen?” Lizzy’s voice had turned sweet.
Her brother froze. “I’ve told you never to call me that.”
“I don’t mean to ruffle your feathers.” She tucked her arms against her torso, waving her elbows like little wings. “You have no business challenging anyone to a duel. You know you are a terrible shot.”
Henry’s features contorted.
“Rest well, Chicken.”
Boom.
Whatever happened, Tuck had no need to make a save. Lizzy had clearly taken possession.
Henry glanced at Tuck. “My only consolation is that you will be punished for this by being forced to endure her company.”
And with that he was gone.
Lizzy exhaled. “Did that just happen? Or did I dream it?” Her hand rested on the table, looking small, pale, and alone. Tuck’s gaze lingered on it, mind racing. Should he reach out to offer comfort and reassurance? Would that make her feel better?
As if reading his thoughts, she frowned, balling her fingers into a fist and sliding it onto her lap.
