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“This is an outrage; I cannot stand for this!” The Earl’s voice was beginning to fade into the distance as Antony escaped the library. He was walking straight to his study, trying to be alone and finding the endeavor impossible. Mrs. Atkins was still with the Earl in the library, trying to calm him down, and Rose had found Fergus standing in the doorway to the ball and was currently telling him everything.
Antony hurried into the study, but before he could close the door, a foot appeared in the gap. “Ow! You shut doors a little hard, you know?” Fergus said, pushing the door open again and following Antony inside.
“Fergus, I need to be alone,” Antony said, going toward the desk. He intended to sit down and think, but his body wouldn’t settle. Part of him was still alight with the excitement of touching Hermione and giving her such pleasure. He wanted to run up the stairs and follow her, stop the tears that he had caused and make love to her properly, but he could not.
He snatched a decanter of port off a nearby shelf and filled up a glass. He was so hasty that he sloshed some of the liquid onto his desk, but he hardly cared. He downed the first glass before pouring himself a second.
“Do you intend to drink the entire decanter?” Fergus asked, perching on the desk nearby. As an answer, Antony downed the second glass before pouring out a third. “Well, I look forward to picking you up off the floor in a bit.”
“How can you be jesting now?” Antony asked, nearly dropping the glass in his anger. “Did our mother not just tell you what happened?”
“She did, which I still find difficult to believe,” Fergus said carefully. “As you say, you vowed never to marry, so why be so carried away with Lady Hermione to lose control?”
“Because being in control around her is impossible!” Antony replied, planting the glass back down on the desk with a heavy thud and casting more port across the surface.
“You’ll ruin your desk if you carry on like that,” Fergus said with a smile.
“Stop smiling, Fergus!” Antony said, his voice seething. “This is serious.”
“I know it is,” Fergus lost his smile and reached for Antony’s shoulder, taking hold of it. “You need to listen to me now.”
“If you tell me to marry her too, then we are going to have an argument.”
“Then an argument is what we will have,” Fergus said softly. “Antony, I do not wish you to be unhappy, but this matter is now about more than just you. By being caught with Lady Hermione and refusing to marry her, you will damage not only her reputation but her entire family’s name. Lady Phoebe will never be able to marry well afterwards either.”
The words brought Antony up short. He froze for a second with his hand hovering over the glass in the air, hesitating in taking it up again. “The entire family will be ostracized wherever they go. For one thing, I can’t imagine you would have done this if you didn’t care for Lady Hermione in the first place–”
“Take care with what you say, brother,” Antony warned, prompting Fergus to hold his hands up in innocence.
“My point is, if you do care for her, do you wish her to be ostracized forever more? Cast out of society?”
He didn’t want that; of course, he didn’t. He snatched up the glass and drank the contents again before pouring yet another glass full. He couldn’t imagine sending Lady Hermione to the outskirts of society. She meant far too much to him to imagine being so cruel to her, yet this was a greater matter now.
I never thought we’d be caught.
“I made you a vow,” Antony said, pointing to Fergus with the glass. “I promised you that I would not marry, then someday you could be Duke.”
“Antony, do you really think I am bothered by it?” Fergus laughed, holding out his arms wide. The questioned stunned Antony enough to lower the glass.
“What do you mean? You always talk about becoming Duke someday with excitement.”
“Sure, I do; it would be nice, but I am not particularly fussed about the idea,” Fergus said with a shrug. “By the time I would be Duke, I’d be old and decrepit anyway. I picture a life led in the navy first, and I hardly mind if that is my entire life. If it is a question of breaking your promise to me or casting Lady Hermione and Lady Phoebe into the backwaters of society, then I release you from your vow. Only too gladly.”
There was something in Fergus’ face that Antony couldn’t quite make sense of. He watched his brother for a minute, realizing what it was as he lifted a hand and pointed it at Fergus.
“You fear seeing Lady Phoebe hurt by all this,” Antony said quietly.
“I can’t really deny it,” Fergus accepted. “If it’s a question of seeing her happy or being Duke someday, then I pick the former. Every time.”
The smile that appeared on Fergus’ face unsettled Antony so much that he toppled backward until he was sitting in a chair, hanging his head in his hands.
I am trapped.He had to marry Lady Hermione now, not just for her sake, but for Fergus’ and Lady Phoebe’s too.
“So, what are you going to do?” Fergus asked. Antony couldn’t reply straight away; he was still trying to think of a way out of this decision.
He had vowed to marry once and ended up with his heart shattered by the incident. Lady Hermione had the power to hurt him more, he knew that now, from the way they were together and what they had shared on the library rug. Was he willing to put himself through that heartbreak again? Or was he going to be forced to go through with it, in order to protect her reputation?
