“No!” Oliver’s voice rang out over the murmurs. He elbowed his way to the front, Sarla and Will close behind. “I was courting Lady Lydia. You’re a cad who debauched my future betrothed.”
“I am hardly debauched, my lord.” Lydia raised her chin. “I don’t have a stitch out of place.”
If anything, it was Keith who looked disheveled. His coat hung too wide and was off-center at the shoulders. His waistcoat bowed in front of his shoulders from where Lydia rested her hands. She looked up at Keith and smothered her giggle. He looked like the one who’d been ravished.
“I demand justice. I made my wish to marry Lady Lydia clear, Abbington.”
“And I believe Lady Lydia made her preference clear,” Father Adams pronounced. “My lady, you’ve made a choice you will have to live with. Are you prepared for that?”
“Yes, Father. I knew what I risked.”
“Your Grace, I would have expected more from a man so worldly as you,” Father Adams chided. But his wife elbowed him and shot him a warning glance before she looked back at the Duke. It was his benevolence that kept them dry from the rain, with a new roof.
“I’ve already explained.” Keith turned to Will and Sarla. “Lady Lydia accepted my proposal. We were celebrating our betrothal.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Will interrupted Oliver. His pinched expression made Keith and Lydia wonder why he disapproved of their match. “We found my daughter and His Grace in a compromising situation. There is little choice but for them to marry. I’m sorry, my lord. My daughter did not heed my choice, but what is done is done.”
Lydia watched her father, stunned by how unsupportive he was. She’d assumed he would come around once they forced his hand. She should have known better. She’d been naïve, but she would learn why her father appeared so miserable. She knew he’d liked and respected Keith before this, even if he disapproved of a pirate courting his daughter. Her father was hardly a social climber, but it was far more advantageous that his daughter marry a duke than a viscount. And she couldn’t understand why he would want Oliver anywhere near her when Will was a smuggler.
“I will be by tomorrow with the contract, Abbington.” Keith turned to the parish priest. He observed how the man’s wife leaned toward him, almost timid under his attention. While he was hardly a devout man, he could admit he appreciated that Anglican priests married. It made more sense to him that a married man initiate him into matrimony than one who practiced celibacy. He suspected Father Adams would offer unsolicited but kindly intended counsel about Keith’s and Lydia’s impending nuptials.
“I will see you at the rectory after you meet with Sir Abbington. We will arrange for the banns, and I would have a word with you, Your Grace.”
Keith nodded, prepared for the man’s pronouncement. He looked down at Lydia as she tilted her head back. They’d done as they planned, and it succeeded. He wished they were alone, so they might celebrate with more than just a kiss.
“Lydia, I think it is time we depart for the evening.” Sarla spoke softly as she came to stand beside her daughter. She’d remained quiet, observing. It came as no surprise the couple had forced her hand and Will’s. It was history repeating itself. Her daughter was a replica of her in every way. She and Will had done something similar when her father continued to hint at arranging a marriage to a local man. However, they caught Will and her doing far more than kissing and just a little less than coupling. She intended her daughters to never learn of that. Only Theo and Vinita were also alive to tell anyone in England, and her mother would never tell a soul in India.
Lydia nodded, but she continued to gaze at Keith. He brushed his nose against hers before kissing her temple. She sighed, content to stand with Keith. But she knew it was best that she and her parents leave and allow the gossip to play out. If she remained with Keith, it would appear as though they flaunted being caught.
“I love you, sweetling.” Keith cared not who heard him. “Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams to you too, darling. I love you.” Lydia stood on her toes and gave him a peck on his lips before she withdrew and stepped between her parents.
“I demand justice!” Oliver had grown quiet, but now he made a stand.
“Have done, Cousin. There is no justice to be had. You had no written agreement with Sir Abbington, so there has been no breach. You may have expressed an interest, but I staked my claim.” Keith stepped up to Oliver, so they stood facing one another, their opposite shoulders pressing together. He lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. “Stand down, Oliver. I will destroy you if you don’t.”
Keith pushed past until he could follow the Abbingtons from the assembly hall. He mounted his horse as he waited for Oliver to climb into the carriage, too. He didn’t envy Lydia the awkwardness of her ride home. He wished he’d had the forethought to bring her onto his horse’s back and save her the discomfort. But the landau was under way, so his horse trotted behind it.
When they neared the turn onto the Abbingtons’ drive, Keith was forced to stop as one of his footmen ran toward him. The man waved something in the air.
“Your Grace, a letter just arrived from Powderham. The messenger practically ran his horse into the ground.” The footman handed Keith the folded piece of parchment. He ran his thumb over the seal, recognizing the Earl of Devon’s crest. He wondered what Rajesh wanted. He nudged his horse forward at a walk, not wishing to leave his footman behind. When they arrived at the abbey’s entrance, he handed off the reins to the man and went to his library. He broke the seal and unfolded the paper.
They’re drawing closer. I need to move the pepper now. My ships aren’t close. Can you come? I want them nowhere near as Charlie’s confinement is imminent. I can’t be away from her.
Keith ran his hand over his face and looked toward the window that faced Abbington House. He knew Rajesh meant the East India Company. The pepper to which he referred was their code for gunpowder. They would all hang if the excisemen discovered their contraband. If any East Indiamen found it, they’d be shot on the spot. He didn’t wish to leave Lydia, especially not while Oliver remained, but neither could he ignore Rajesh’s request for help. He was closer than the Pedricks or Howes, and he was the only one with ships.
He went to his desk and scribbled a note. He would dispatch a footman to deliver it in the morning.
My love, I must leave for a few days. A family obligation. A cousin has pepper to trade, and he wishes me to take it lest it be stolen. He fears someone intends to interfere. I will return as soon as I can. Know that I’d rather remain with you, but I will meet you at the altar with a license in hand when I return. I hope you’ll wear to our wedding what you wore tonight. No one has ever been lovelier.
Yours always,
KMN
CHAPTER7
