Duncan wished he could assure her that they would. Instead, he said, “We shall try our best, my lady.” Then he bowed and hurried to follow the duke. They indeed needed to make haste, or they would be late for their audience with the archbishop.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Broadmere said as the carriage took off. He locked eyes with Duncan. “If you are Catholic, make no mention of it. The man is adamantly opposed to Catholicism.”
“How does he feel about the Church of Scotland?”
“That, I do not know. Best steer clear of religion if at all possible.” Broadmere shifted in the seat as if he had a burr in his breeches. “Father never quite got along with the archbishop, so I fear that will color this meeting badly as well.”
“Were ye able to discover Brixham’s standing with the man? That knowledge would help us.” Merry had assured Duncan that Serendipity’s contacts when it came to finding out anything anyone wished to know were exemplary.
Broadmere flinched, narrowing his eyes as he looked out the carriage window. “Brixham’s father was a close friend and devoted supporter of His Grace.”
“Damn.”
“Exactly.”
Malcolm nudged Duncan’s foot with the toe of his boot. Duncan barely shook his head and glared at his brother, willing him to keep his mouth shut about Gretna Green.
“If Merry could not bear Mayfair until the special license expires, perhaps she could retire to the quiet of the country until the time was up.” Duncan knew it wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would get her out of theton’s direct gaze.
Broadmere flinched again. “That would fuel the gossips even more, I fear. A young lady removing herself from Society after such an ordeal would only support Brixham’s claims. They would say she was attempting to hide the results of her clandestine activities—especially with Brixham as the one involved, and your being the gentleman to whom she is engaged. Merry cannot run away. She must find the courage to stay put and face them down.”
“That is not fair to her.”
“There is little fairness to women in this day and age. Merry knows this. Our mother often bemoaned that very fact.”
The carriage halted at Doctors’ Commons on Knightrider Street. Duncan eyed the building that housed the office of the man who held his and Merry’s fate. Well, not entirely. If the archbishop failed to cooperate, there was always Gretna Green’s wedding anvil.
They entered the building, which smelled like an enormous library that housed every parchment and paper in existence. Climbing the open stairway to the office they sought, Duncan looked down on the endless individuals searching through shelves upon shelves of tomes and carting the oversized volumes to tables and stands for closer examination. When they entered the private office of the archbishop, a short, bespectacled man peered at them through his smudged lenses.
“Have you an appointment?” he asked, his tone condescending.
“Check His Grace’s diary for the Duke of Broadmere and theMarquess of Kirkston.” Broadmere stared down the defiant little man.
Duncan clenched his teeth so tightly his jaws ached.
The attendant dipped a curt nod and disappeared through the door behind the long counter that divided the room in half. Soon, the unsmiling man reappeared, returning with a sealed envelope. He set it on the counter, pushed it toward them, and stepped back. “His Grace begs your forgiveness, but he was called away by other matters. Since you were good enough to provide the details of your request as is required by His Grace, in all his generosity, he saw fit to respond with an answer that is included in this letter.” The man bowed. “Good day, Your Grace and my lord.” Then he disappeared back through the door, almost running, as if afraid they would find the letter displeasing and take it out on him.
Broadmere snatched it up, broke the seal, and read it before shoving it into Duncan’s hands. “He refuses a new special license until the first is exhausted in ninety days and recommends the lady reconsider her prospects, since Lord Brixham is a fine man.”
“That bastard.” Duncan stared down at the letter, his hands trembling with rage. “Brixham got to him first.”
“Knowing him, he probably warned the archbishop this might happen whenever he got the license. He knows Merry loathes him.” Broadmere scrubbed a hand across his mouth, obviously fighting to remain civil. “Our business here is done.”
Duncan felt like leaping over that counter, barging through that fecking door, and snatching up the archbishop by the throat and shaking him until he begged for mercy. But that would do little to help Merry’s cause. In fact, it would only make things worse, because the well-connected man would then use every opportunity to ruin the Broadmere family even further. The powerful devil had obviously honored his old alliance with Brixham’s father rather than what was good and right.
Battling to rein in his rage, Duncan carefully refolded the letter andtucked it inside his coat pocket. He led the way out to the carriage and threw himself into the seat.
Malcolm and Broadmere were close behind and just as disgusted.
“Merry will be beside herself,” Broadmere said quietly.
“Is there no way we could make Brixhamdisappear?” Malcolm asked.
“If anything happens to Brixham,” Duncan said, “we would be among the first sought out by the Bow Street Runners.” He gripped the window frame so tightly that the wood nearly cracked. “And Merry would never have it. Ye know what she said about duels or anything else to rid this world of that man’s evil.”
“Yet it would do no good to bring charges against that man for what he tried to do to Merry?” Malcolm punched the palm of his hand with his fist. “Is there no justice at all for women?”
“Rarely,” Broadmere said. “So much so that most simply keep quiet and heal themselves as best they can.”
