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The moment the door shut behind her, Percy turned and plowed a fist into his pillow. Hell’s fires would be extinguished before he let her go through with that unholy wedding. He didn’t want Eden for his mistress, damn it—he wanted her for his wife.
He couldn’t stop her leaving now without risking everything, but there was another way. He’d double Ravenwood’s offer to Sir Geoffrey, a hundred thousand pounds to sever the engagement and allow Eden to marry him instead. Half would pay off his debt, the other half in the form of a monthly stipend with mandatory oversight would prevent the man from gambling it all away in a toss. That should satisfy any familial duty.
As for Ravenwood, he’d have another quiet word with the fellow, and this time he would cooperate or he would hang. He doubted the man would choose to swing.
A special license would see an end to this nonsense. All would be done quickly and with as little publicity as possible. There would be a brief wagging of tongues over their hasty marriage, but the next juicy whisper about someone else would relegate their story to the back of the gossip cupboard. No one was interested in happily married and therefore boring couples.
He buried his face in the pillow where Eden’s head had lain. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in her lavender scent.
God, but he missed her already. To fall asleep with her in his arms every night and wake in the morning beside her every day would be heaven on earth. Loneliness, black and chill, crept over him, leaving a hollow ache in his soul. He didn’t just want Eden, he needed her. No one and nothing else would fill the void in his life.
Rising, he dressed himself and made ready to leave. There was no point in lingering. To be seen here in the morning would only cause trouble and delay his purpose. Now he’d spoken with Eden, he knew what his purpose was and intended to see it through. Going to the stables, he woke the attendant and demanded his horse readied.
His pocket watch confirmed it was half past four. Dawn was still a ways off, but a waxing gibbous moon still rode high in a cloudless sky, providing ample light. London was but a few miles to the southeast. Though he hardly believed they would be needed, he readied his pistols. The speed at which he intended to ride all but guaranteed he’d be left in peace, but it was always best to be prepared.
Pausing at the wide gate at the end of the road to Dunsany’s manor house, he looked back. Only a few windows remained lit, and none was Eden’s. For her sake, he prayed she’d made it back to her room undiscovered. Turning his horse to the road ahead, he made for London.
Exhausted, he arrived at Leicester Square just as the eastern sky was lightening. Letting himself in, he climbed the stairs to his chamber. “I’ve already ordered a bath,” he told Seamus, who stood rubbing his eyes and blinking in confusion as he entered. He hadn’t brought his valet along with him to Dunsany’s because he hadn’t intended to stay the night. Technically he hadn’t, as it was only just now dawn. “I’ll need a shave and a fresh suit of clothes. Nothing too lavish. Something dark with nice trim. I’m going out again as soon as I’m presentable. I’ve already sent word to the groom to ready the carriage.”
“Shall I have coffee sent up?” inquired Seamus, hurrying to take the coat and cravat, which were being tossed at him.
Percy grunted approval. His staff knew better than to ask whether or not he’d slept. They assumed, most of the time correctly, that he hadn’t.
Two hours later, dressed, fed, and at least somewhat refreshed, he boarded his carriage to pay His Eminence, the archbishop, a visit. By noon, his purse was a good deal lighter, but he had a special license in hand. Now all he had to do was get the bride’s father to cooperate and sign it.
“I’m here to speak to Sir Geoffrey,” he told the servant who answered the door. “And don’t tell me he’s not in.” He knew from Eden that he’d remained in London last night.
The man, though white-faced and clearly nervous, nodded and ushered him in with instructions to wait in the foyer.
Ten minutes passed as he cooled his heels in the tomb-like silence of the entry hall. So much for the prestige of rank.
He rose at the long anticipated sound of approaching footsteps, but it was not Sir Geoffrey who greeted him. “Lord Tavistoke, I must confess I did not expect to see you here again,” said Lady Catherine, sailing in with a scowl. “Eden is not here.”
“I’m here to see your husband, Lady Catherine. I have business to discuss with him.”
“He does not wish to be disturbed,” she replied, lifting a brow. “You may tell me, and I will be happy to deliver your message to him.”
So this is how it is to be. Fine. Blunt speech was akin to using an axe where a scalpel would suffice, but in this case it was apparent the broader blade was needed. “Eden’s engagement to Ravenwood is invalid.”
“I beg your pardon?” gasped the woman, drawing herself up in outrage.
Her bluster was ineffectual. “Invalid,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable. “I asked Eden to be my wife many weeks prior to his proposal, and she accepted. I have come to speak with her father in an attempt to resolve any confusion.”
“I was unaware of any understanding between you,” she replied coldly. “As Eden failed to disclose it prior to accepting Ravenwood’s proposal, I must assume the nature of this…understanding was such that she did not take it seriously.”
“Eden only accepted his offer because she was forced to do so,” he bit out. “Forced by you. I am aware of Sir Geoffrey’s financial situation, and I’m prepared to render discreet assistance.”
She blanched. “I’m afraid your offer comes too late. An agreement has already been struck between our families. Eden will marry Ravenwood, and that is final. There is nothing that can be done to change it.”
Now the words came out. “I love her.” He looked her in the eye and dared her to contradict him.
The color returned to her cheeks all in a rush. “Even if I believed you, I—”
“Don’t try my patience, woman!” he barked, stepping close enough to glare down at her. He lowered his voice. “I love Eden more than my own life, and I will not see her forced to marry that—” He almost said buggerer. “That blackguard in order to save her family from her father’s folly and your greed. If it is money you want, I have it in plenty. You may tell your lord husband I’m willing to offer twice what Ravenwood is paying. One hundred thousand.”
Her mouth fell open in an O of surprise, but she quickly regained composure. “It will make no difference,” she said, though he heard regret in her voice. “Ravenwood has already given him the settlement.”
“And it has already been spent,” he wryly asserted.
