She moved just as the door splintered open, showering the room with broken wood. Duncan and Malcolm exploded into the room with Chance on their heels.
“I will feckin’ kill ye!” Duncan roared at Brixham as he landed a solid punch to the man’s jaw and sent him rolling back across the room.
Chance caught hold of her by the shoulders. “Did that bastardtouch you? Are you all right?”
“He did not touch me,” she said, her voice hoarse and cracking. “Thank heavens you came.”
“Dinna kill him,” Malcolm shouted at Duncan as he dragged him off Brixham’s limp form. “He is not worth it.”
Eyes wild and his chest heaving, Duncan tried to shove his brother away, but Chance joined Malcolm in stopping him.
“Your brother is right,” Chance said. “He is not worth it. I shall speak to the Lord High Steward. He shall be tried in the House of Lords for this abomination.”
Merry sagged against the wall, realizing how tenuous this situation was, since Brixham had not been able to touch her. He hadn’t even succeeded in mussing her gown. It would be her word, a mere woman’s word, against his, and she knew exactly what that outcome would be. “He said he paid witnesses to say I led him here, Chance. He intends to ruin me. Ruin us.”
Duncan pulled her into his arms, cradling her in the safe strength of his embrace. Her courage crumbling, she clung to him as though about to drown, wailing out her fears. “He means to ruin me. My family. He swore he would.”
“Hush now, lass.” Duncan stroked her hair and gently rocked from side to side. “He’ll not be ruining anything except his welcome with Lady Atterley and any of the other hostesses of theton.They know well enough ye are a fine woman. They will never believe his lies.”
“But they will,” she sobbed. “He will make sure they will, and there are many who are jealous of the Broadmeres. They will gladly seize on this.”
“Get her home,” Chance said to Duncan. “I shall stay here and have a word with Lord and Lady Atterley. Take Seri along with you for appearances’ sake.”
“Come along, my own.” Duncan gently led her into the hallway, where she noticed the footman who had led her there was nowunconscious on the floor. “The bastard tried to lie and say ye weren’t there, even though we heard yer screams. Yer brother will see to that man’s fate, I grant ye that.”
She halted and planted her feet as he turned down the hallway toward the ballroom. “I cannot possibly go in there.”
“Of course ye canna go in there. What the devil was I thinking?” He scowled in that direction as though they faced a wall of fire, and in essence, they did.
Everyone would take one look at her disheveled appearance and wonder what had happened, and if they failed to discover the truth, they would make something up.
Hugging her closer, Duncan shielded her in the shadows as a footman hurried past them. “Are ye strong enough to wait here whilst I fetch yer sister and yer cloak?”
“If that will keep me from going in front of all those people, I will find the strength.” She leaned against the wall, keeping to the shadows with her fists clutched to her chest. How had such a lovely evening turned so unbearably horrid?
Duncan brushed a tender kiss to her forehead and whispered, “Ye are the bravest woman I have ever known. Hold fast, my own. Hold fast.” And then he charged off in search of Seri.
Noise from the other end of the hallway startled her, making her turn just in time to see Lord Brixham tumble out the door of the parlor and slump to the floor beside the footman. Chance and Malcolm followed, standing over him to ensure he didn’t move.
Merry wished the man would never move again, and it shocked her that she had such a thought. She should not wish Brixham dead. No matter what he had threatened to do. But deep inside, no matter that she knew she shouldn’t wish such a thing, she did wish it. If she had managed to kill him with the candelabrum, she would have been glad. He was a powerful peer. A rich viscount. There was no such thing as justice when it came to punishing a man like him. Not whenhe could pay his way out of it. Even the Broadmere name and coffers could only fight him so much. If Papa were still alive, it might be different. Papa was well respected and powerful. But poor Chance was still finding his way as a young duke and a new member of the House of Lords. And as a Scot newly voted into one of Scotland’s sixteen seats, Duncan had less power still.
Holding her aching throat, she swallowed hard. Brixham had planned this well, damn him.
Chapter Ten
Safe in thecarriage, huddled against Duncan, eyes burning from so much crying, Merry dabbed at her face with her delicate handkerchief and refused to weep any more. It was time to be calm and find a solution to this terrible problem, if there was a solution to be had. Whenever she spoke, she croaked like a frog with her poor, raw throat, but things needed to be said. “Brixham said he had already obtained a special license.”
“Chance will speak to the archbishop,” Serendipity said from the seat across from Merry.
Duncan held her tighter, but remained silent other than snorting his disgust.
Merry agreed with him completely. “It will do no good, Seri. You know that,” she said. “The archbishop never cancels or revokes a special license, not when it might make it appear as if those he oversees failed in the research on the couple to be wed.” The Archbishop of Canterbury considered himself above error, and anything that made His Grace look otherwise was simply not entertained.
More tears welled in her eyes, but she fought not to shed them. “Brixham and I would have to marry, and then have the marriage annulled.” Stomach churning at that prospect, she hugged her middle, trying not to cast up her accounts in the carriage. “I wish I had killed him with that candelabrum.”
“I wish you had too.” Hatred filled Serendipity’s voice. “MayMama and Papa forgive us both.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Duncan said, his deep voice a throaty growl. “That bastard should die for what he attempted.”
