Page 60 of Appointment in Bath

“What—?”

“Under no circumstances will you be permitted to form an alliance with that family. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Ivo’s temper rose swiftly. “You may say what you like. No one’s stopping you.”

“Only a scoundrel would inflict a connection with the Burton-Smythes on mother. If you knew the extent of the bad blood between our families—”

“Yes, I know. We hate each other. They abhor us and we despise them, and so it’s always been and so it must continue. I comprehend that much. But however justified the cause of the quarrel, it’s in the past.”

“Our parents haven’t forgotten. Nor has Sir Frederick, you may depend on it.”

“I don’t give a toss for Sir Frederick. As for mother and father…” Removing his tall beaver hat, Ivo raked his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, I don’t admit to having made any promises. I’m not a fool, James.”

“No, indeed. You’ve only been meeting the girl in secret for weeks. Laughing with her. Smiling.”

Ivo scowled at him. Dash it all, how much had his brother observed today? “Is laughing with a girl a crime now?”

“Not if it’s done in the proper sphere. With the blacksmith’s daughter or one of the other village tarts.”

“Tarts, are they?”

“Girls who know how to play the game, not young ladies who consider a solitary pleasantry tantamount to a declaration of intent. Unless, of course, you consider Miss Burton-Smythe to be a member of the former class?”

“Don’t you dare compare Meg to a West Country lightskirt,” Ivo growled.

Something dangerous flickered in James’s glacial gaze. “By God, Ivo. Don’t tell me your heart is engaged.”

A muscle ticked in Ivo’s cheek. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been clenching his jaw. “And what if it was?”

“I wouldn’t believe it. For if you’ve done this thing, then you must have no heart at all.”

The carriage rolled on at a steady pace, the interior of it crackling with palpable animosity. They weren’t traveling toward Beasley Park. They were taking a circuitous path around the estate. A journey that, no doubt, wouldn’t end until James was convinced that Ivo would give up his association with Meg.

All that remained was for Ivo to convince him. It was no easy task. Ivo had never been as adept at disguising his feelings as his older brother.

Relaxing his jaw, he leaned back in his seat with a hollow laugh. As an effort at subterfuge, it fell utterly flat. “This is too Shakespearean,” he said. “Next you’ll be droning on about ancient grudges leading to new mutinies.”

“It’s no joke.”

“Then what is it?” Ivo asked. “I know mother refused Sir Frederick in order to marry father. And I know they fought over her. It was a duel, I suppose.”

James gave him an alert look. “Who told you that?”

“There have long been whispers of a duel. I didn’t fully credit them until now. Apparently, our father shot Sir Frederick in the shoulder.”

“Who told you that?”

“Miss Burton-Smythe,” Ivo admitted.

James’s gray eyes smoldered. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t be speaking to her.”

“Yes. I see. Better I be kept in complete ignorance.”

“You’re not ignorant. You know the substance of the feud. It should be enough.”

“It isn’t. Not when it begins to impact the future of an innocent young lady. It’s one thing to shun Sir Frederick because of his past actions, but to include his daughter in the grudge, as though her father’s sins somehow accrue to her—”

“You can’t separate the two of them. An association with the one must naturally lead to an association with the other. Sir Frederick won’t accept it any more than we will.”