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Oh, God. If he kills Percy… Her trembling knees threatened to give way, but she compelled them to hold. “Should Lord Tavistoke,”—she forced the word out—“die tomorrow, my heart will remain unaltered. If I cannot marry him, then I must wed the church or no one. I mean no insult to you in saying it, for I believe you to be an honorable man,” she lied. “A man who deserves the heart of the one he would call his wife. I ask you to consider how I could ever feel anything but utmost enmity for the one who killed my beloved. I would sooner die than enter into such an unholy union.”
Two splotches of color appeared high in Ravenwood’s pale cheeks, and she knew then her words had effectively ended all argument in favor of the misbegotten match. She looked to her father and marked with satisfaction his arrival at the same conclusion.
No matter the outcome, she could not be forced to marry Ravenwood now.
…
Percy watched Sir Geoffrey’s eyes blaze with anger as he turned on his daughter. “Wretched spawn,” he hissed. “I would disown you this instant were it not for the promise I made your mother.”
Stepping forward, Percy put himself between them. “Should you choose to do so, in but a month my name and countenance will still become hers, for she has done no wrong to deserve such harsh treatment.”
“If you survive,” her father growled from between clenched teeth.
“You would be wise to pray I do,” Percy replied softly. “You would be wiser still to allow us to marry with your blessing before this day’s end.” He leaned close and lowered his voice to a barely audible murmur. “The offer I bade your lady wife relay to you stands: one hundred thousand pounds. Let Eden become my marchioness this day, and your debt to Ravenwood will be repaid, allowing you to remain a free man. I have with me a marriage license bearing the archbishop’s signature and seal. We both know what will happen if you don’t sign it.”
Sir Geoffrey’s color bled from brick red to ashen gray.
“Papa?”
The man declined to look at his daughter who, despite his cold words, still appeared worried for him. “In the interest of preserving my family’s honor, I must grant it—you may marry her with my blessing. God help you, for she is both stubborn and rebellious.”
“What is this?” said Ravenwood, indignant. “You cannot now change your allegiance!”
Turning to him, Sir Geoffrey spoke with grim resignation. “Sir, you may consider yourself relieved of obligation to my daughter. All that was given in good faith shall be returned to you in full. Please believe I was unaware of my daughter’s duplicity. Had I known she was already engaged, I would never have accepted your offer on her behalf—a father’s right,” he added quickly, glancing about at those circling them. “I sought only to secure her future and her happiness.”
Ravenwood’s eyes narrowed. “And what compensation would you offer me for my life, which is now in jeopardy as a result of your deceit? Your daughter said she raised strong objection to the match and only accepted me as an alternative to disownment.”
The blood rushed back into Sir Geoffrey’s face. He’d been caught in his lies. “The objections she voiced were none of these presented here today. At the time they seemed but a feeble attempt to indulge her infatuation with a man of decidedly questionable reputation.”
Percy watched as a pitiless smile formed on Ravenwood’s lips. Leaning close to Sir Geoffrey, the man murmured, “So be it. If I were you, I would take Tavistoke’s advice and pray he survives.” Turning on his heel, he stalked away, the crowd falling back like wheat before a scythe.
After he’d passed, Montgomery stepped forward. “I see you’ve managed to once again bring life to a decidedly dull party. Might I offer my services as your second tomorrow morning?”
“I would have no one else,” Percy told him, relieved. “It’s to be swords. Tothill Fields at dawn.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Clasping arms, they parted. Percy watched as his best friend gathered his wife and left, melting back into the crowd. Another face caught his eye, that of Lord Wells. The man turned away with a contemptuous sneer.
Privately, Percy rejoiced at the thought of having both Ravenwood and Wells together. It simplified things.
“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves,” muttered Sir Geoffrey, whipping out a kerchief and mopping his brow, which had again gone pasty. “I’m not certain I shall survive this humiliation.”
“Then I suggest we find a priest and conduct the ceremony at once,” Percy drawled, having no pity for the man’s self-made plight. Turning to Eden, whose face was almost as pale as her father’s, he murmured, “No matter the outcome of this, you will be safe.”
“And what of my brother?” she asked, her azure eyes awash with unshed tears.
His heart ached at the tremor in her voice. Cupping her cheek, he dropped a tender kiss on her brow and whispered at her ear, “I’ve a plan, but if it fails and the worst happens, you must adopt him. My solicitor will assist you—I’ll send for him and have him draw up the necessary documents tonight. Under the circumstances, I’m sure your father won’t object. Your brother will never inherit from my estate, of course, but he’ll have my name and a living when he comes of age.”
“Thank you,” she whispered back, tears seeping from beneath her lids as she closed her eyes.
“As for your father,”—he looked to the distraught gentleman—“I won’t grant a penny more than what I have already promised. If I meet my demise tomorrow, my advice to your father is to pay his debts, take his wife, and depart England with all haste.”
“Eden?” It was Lady Catherine, come late at last to see what the commotion was about. “What is this I hear—?”
“Not now, Catherine,” said Sir Geoffrey, grasping her arm. “I’ll explain on the way home.”
“On the way to St James’s, you mean,” Percy corrected, earning himself a black look from Sir Geoffrey. “I will suffer no further delay.” Offering Eden his arm, he walked past his soon-to-be in-laws.
