Page 84 of Appointment in Bath

The blood drained from Ivo’s face. He sank down into one of the wingchairs in front of the fire.

“I intercepted them, naturally.”

Ivo looked up at his father. “You shot him?”

Lord Allendale’s brows lifted. “You’ve heard of that, too, have you?”

“Is it true?”

“It is. But it didn’t happen then. That was earlier, in London, during a duel fought over a hand of cards. After the events with your mother, I delt with Fred in a different manner.”

“I’ve heard stories,” Ivo said. “People say you and Sir Frederick engaged in fisticuffs. Was this when—”

“Regrettably yes. It wasn’t the first time we did so, though it certainly was the bloodiest. Far worse was the fact that your mother was present. She saw the entire affair, to my shame. It isn’t something she’s forgotten. Nor has Fred, I promise you. By the time I’d finished with him, he resembled a side of beef strung up in a butcher’s window.”

“Good God.”

“It was a long time coming,” Lord Allendale said. “Fred has hated me since I was a lad. He could never accept that your mother chose me over him. Not because he loved her, or because he desired her wealth and property, but because of his bloody Burton-Smythe pride. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she’d prefer a man he deemed so much less worthy than himself.”

“You were more worthy. You were the heir to an earldom.”

“A fact which Fred takes great pleasure in disputing. To him, I’ll always be illegitimate. It’s easier for him to think me a trickster than to acknowledge his own inadequacy. Your association with Miss Burton-Smythe will just serve to provoke him.”

“Is it only the prospect of renewed gossip that troubles you? Or…are you afraid he’ll try something else with mother?” Ivo was sickened by the prospect.

“No. Fred can’t hurt me or your mother anymore. But harming our children isn’t beyond him. He’s an unhappy man. He makes everyone about him unhappy. I suspect he’d enjoy having you in his power.”

Ivo recalled the odd look of calculation in Sir Frederick’s eyes that day at Letchford Hall. The way he’d encouraged Ivo and Meg to take tea without him. Had he been scheming even then? Willing to facilitate a match between Ivo and Meg solely as a means of hurting Ivo’s parents?

“As for his daughter,” his father continued. “She—”

“She isn’t like him,” Ivo cut in with a sudden fierceness. “If you didn’t recognize that—”

“I recognized it,” his father said. “She seems a nice enough girl. But if you pursue this tendre you have for her, you reopen old wounds. Far worse, you invite Fred back into our lives.”

Before Ivo could respond, the door to the library swung open.

His mother entered, a candle in her hand. She was in a chintz dressing gown, her heavy mink hair arranged in its long evening plait. “I thought I’d find you here,” she said to Ivo’s father. “Delivering a lecture to our son, I expect, thinking to shield me from some connection with Fred?”

Ivo stood abruptly. “Mother. I never knew. If I had—”

“I see I was right.” Lady Allendale set down her candle on the mantelshelf. She gave her husband a reproving look. “I wonder, my darling, have you relayed the whole of it?”

“More than I cared to,” Lord Allendale said grimly.

Ivo went to his mother. He gently touched her cheek. The very thought of any man putting his hands on her sent pure rage through his vitals. “By God, I could trounce Sir Frederick myself. That the villain dared hurt you—”

“Hurt me?” She took Ivo’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Nonsense.”

“Father said that once, long ago, Sir Frederick attempted—”

“Fred forced a kiss on me, yes. It was exceedingly vile. But pray don’t imagine me his victim.” His mother smiled. “Do you think I hovered on the fringes of this battle between Fred and your father wringing my hands and weeping? Have you ever known me to be so poor-spirited? I was at your father’s side, a horse pistol in my hand. Why—”

“Maggie,” Lord Allendale said under his breath.

“He’s of an age,” Lady Allendale replied. “Tales of our wild youth won’t scandalize him. Doubtless, he’s already heard the rumors.”

“Whatever Sir Frederick did, it must have hurt you,” Ivo said. “Why else would you still hate him?”