Mary was already in there, pale-faced and dressed in white, and Patrick stood at her side in his full uniform. He looked rather like a guard, a role he quite possibly saw himself in today.
Lord and Lady Jackson and the Duke and Duchess of Mildenhall were talking quietly among themselves by the sideboard, but fell silent and took their assigned places as Nathaniel entered the room.
Lord Holt stopped in the doorway and regarded the other guests with unhappy surprise.
“I did not realize this would be a larger party,” he said crossly while Cecily led her grandmother to her chair.
“It is always best to have witnesses in certain cases,” Nathaniel answered with unflustered authority, gesturing at the same time for a footman to fill the wineglass at the only empty place at the table, clearly intended for Lord Holt.
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean,” Lord Holt relented, taking his seat and reaching for his wine without waiting either for food to be served or for the other guests to receive their own drinks. “When an exchange is made, it ought to be seen to be done fair and square.”
“Quite,” Nathaniel said with an inflection of subtle contempt that was entirely lost on the man. “Well, let us begin.”
As the first course of watercress soup was served, Nathaniel and Cecily exchanged a glance of understanding and nodded to one another. Allowing Lady Jackson to start a light conversation about the London theatre program, they barely ate, drank, or spoke, although Nathaniel regularly directed the servants to refill the plates and glasses of his guests, especially Lord Holt.
“You’re lucky that you only have sons, Lady Jackson,” Lord Holt commented after Lady Jackson mentioned her plans for her eldest son’s Grand Tour next year. “Girls are far harder to raise.”
“You had a very hard time, didn’t you, Preston?” Lady Holt sympathized, though no one else encouraged him on this undiplomatic path. “You’ve had no peace at all since you took your nieces under your roof.”
As they spoke, a footman entered the room and went to Nathaniel, whispering something in his ear and eliciting a nod of understanding.
“Put them all in the drawing room,” Cecily heard her husband murmur to him.
“No peace, and no gratitude from anyone,” Lord Holt agreed, draining his wine glass again. Cecily watched him carefully, holding herself in check a little longer. “These two were both impossible, especially Cecily. I speak with affection, of course, but I’ll be more than glad to see both of them happily married and out of my way. That day can’t come soon enough, can it, Mary?”
Mary could not help giving a frightened little gasp.
Patrick visibly bristled, looking ready to leap from his chair and throw the older man out of the door.
“Patrick,” Nathaniel said warningly, fixing his brother with a stern look. “Be calm.”
The brief apprehension on Lord Holt’s face vanished, replaced by alcohol-fueled overconfidence again.
“Yes, keep your guard dog under control, Your Grace,” he jested with a side glance at Patrick. “The young man doesn’t appreciate the full situation, I assume. Well, there are questions we haven’t even settled between ourselves, aren’t there? For example, isMary leaving with me, or are you ready to come to terms in some other way?”
Mary looked so terrified now that Cecily was tempted to remove her from the room, despite the plans she had made earlier with Nathaniel. Alcohol, the proximity of his valuable ward, and the lure of triumphing over Cecily and Nathaniel were all essential components in leading Lord Holt to his destruction.
Heedless of propriety, Patrick reached out and took Mary’s hand on the tabletop, in full view of the entire party. Cecily blinked as she noticed the gleam of a new ring on her sister’s finger. It was just a slim silver band set with a single blue stone, but she immediately guessed its significance.
“Mary!” Lady Holt scolded. “Let go of that young man at once! What do you think you are doing? What will these people think of you?”
Cecily looked again at Nathaniel, and he nodded.
“I dare say they’ll think no worse than if they’d read the wicked rumors you tried to spread about Mary in a scandal sheet, Uncle,” Cecily said evenly, pleased to see Lord Holt’s eyes bulge. “Although any right-thinking person would think worse of you for smearing your own nieces and trying to blackmail my husband.”
Now, Lord Holt had turned nearly purple and started to splutter as he struggled to reply. The eyes of all the other guests werefixed on him. He was not a quick thinker even when sober, a state that was now very far away.
“How can you speak so rudely and ungratefully to your uncle, Cecily?” Lady Holt chided. “All these years, he has given you everything and asked for nothing in return. The two of you might have starved on the street without his charity.”
“Charity? Is that what you call it?” Cecily retorted. “For twenty years, I was made to feel like a burden, like every mouthful we ate was begrudged and like every mistake we made could result in punishment. For twenty years, I was the one who cared for Mary and raised her, although I was only a child myself. I am grateful to my uncle fornothing.”
“Preston took you in, sheltered you, protected you,” Lady Holt insisted. “Yes, he also chastised you when you were ill-behaved, but children need such guidance.”
“Shelter? Protection?” Cecily laughed scornfully. “You think I knew either of them with you? Do not even talk to me about what guidance you imagine is provided by a grown man beating children with his belt. Only one man has ever sheltered or protected me, and he sits at the head of this table.”
“You’re hysterical, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself, duchess or not,” Lady Holt told her, not backing down.
“Before you abuse my wife further, Lady Holt,” Nathaniel interjected in a most dangerously calm voice, “you should know that what Cecily has said about your son trying to smear hisnieces in the scandal sheets is true, as is the talk of blackmail. It’s all witnessed and documented. Would you like to see? I plan to share it with everyone here.”
