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“Are you quite all right, George?”
He smiled gratefully at Miss Worthington. She had a heart, after all. He forgave her.
She frowned at him. “For a moment, I thought you were about to cast up your accounts all over my shoes, as my father is wont to say, though I daresay it’s very vulgar. Still, it’s what came to mind.”
She tittered, and Derry tittered too, and George decided he’d had enough.
With a fulminating look at them from over his shoulder, he marched to the door. Let them all have joy of one another or rather being endlessly unhappy as George had been his entire life, he thought piteously.
His mother sent him a concerned look as he strode past her but she made no attempt to stop him. He traversed the entire length of the drawing room past Uncle Bertram, and nearly tripped over the trailing hems of his trousers before he reached the door, and still no one stopped him.
It had been a wasted effort. He’d come here to make a difference. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but he knew Katherine and Jack loved each other, and he’d hoped to facilitate something good for them. For the first time that he could remember, his motivations were entirely selfless, but no one appreciated his nobility, and he was damned if he was going to exert himself if this was all the appreciation he was going to get.
His bedchamber had been assigned to him—the red room on the second floor. He’d changed there and now he was returning, but Derry detained him at the bottom of the stairs.
“I say, old chap, you’re in rather a flame of indignation, eh? What’s got you so hot under the collar?” he asked. “Why are you here, really?”
George felt some of the advantage had returned to him by being able to turn on the third step enabling him to look down at Derry, who was lounging against the newel post.
“Why am I here?” He repeated it in clipped tones, trying to inject the words with sarcasm. “Why am I here, Derry? Because a little matter on home territory has changed matters somewhat, and I wish to have no part in any wager that feeds you to Katherine through blackmail, coercion, or underhand lies.”
Derry blinked. “My, my, George, but that’s rich coming from you.”
George bunched up his fists.
Derry smiled. “If I recall, it was you who proposed the wager.”
“A foolish lad’s throwaway line seven years ago. I never imagined it would come to anything. But tell me, does Katherine wish to marry you?”
A shadow crossed Derry’s face. Evading the question, he said, “I spoke to Lady Hale earlier today, and she assured me she had no intention of allowing Katherine to keep Diana unless Katherine married me.”
“I believe the stipulation was that Katherine was simply to marry a man who’d keep her wanton impulses in check. Which means that husband could be either you, or it could be me.”
“You!” The derisive way Lord Derry laughed at that was enough to make George lunge at him and wipe that smirk off his face, but George was stronger than that. Or rather, he had ammunition stronger than fists.
“Katherine has no desire to marry you. I think you know that, Derry.”
Derry raised his chin. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, George.”
“Katherine has no wish to marry you or to marry me. She has no wish to marry anyone except…” Would he say it? Was more harm to be caused by revealing the truth or not? George held back.
“Except who?” Derry’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to tell me the stupid girl is still in love with Jack.”
“Is it not as plain as the nose on your face that Katherine is in love with Jack, and Jack is in love with Katherine, only Jack is pledged to Miss Worthington, and his honour is stronger than the inconvenient beating of his heart whenever his childhood sweetheart is near.” George blinked at his unusual expressiveness, just as Derry did.
When Derry seemed unable to respond, George went on, “Do you have so little pride that you’d coerce Katherine into marrying you using Diana as your weapon? Would you?” he prompted. “Would you really want to marry Katherine when you know her heart belongs to Jack, and it always will? She’s loved him since she was seven years old, and he her. Nothing will ever change that. I thought I could. But even I can’t.” His words felt lame, but there had been power in speaking the truth. Little matter that George was relinquishing all hope of Katherine or the thousand pounds he would make through seeing a wedding occur between Katherine and Derry.
It was satisfying to see the bleak look on Derry’s face.
And finally he felt like the bigger man when he turned and, leaving Derry with no words, continued up the stairs towards his bedchamber.
Jack was exhausted by the time he reached Derry House. It was late, and the travelling had been tedious. Three times they’d been stuck in mud past the axle.
He supposed he’d be welcomed. Odette was there, as were Lady Quamby and her brother, he’d learned.
During the entire journey, he’d replayed in his mind his last encounter with Katherine. Had he phrased what he’d needed to in a manner to inflict the minimum pain? Regardless, she’d let him off easily.
Then he wondered whether it was cowardice. Was he too afraid to break it off with Odette knowing she’d scream and wail and accuse him of deceiving her?
