“You cannot be serious.”
“Why? Because you know how much I abhor your tainted blood? True, but not so much that I’m blinded to your...assets.” He moved his thumb against her palm. “Think clearly, sweet. You can save your reputation in one, easy sweep. The matter is simple, really. You are a widow in need of protection. I am a man”—his gaze dropped to her chest—“more than willing to protect.”
“Never,” she whispered.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” His smile reappeared. “For now, I trust you will comply with a much simpler request.”
Instinctively, she yanked back her hand.
“Oh”—he snorted—“what a delightfully vulgar mind you have. You’ve no need to look so revolted. I merely ask that you preside over a soiree for our neighbors.”
“Why should I preside over a gathering that proports all is well at Ithwick?”
“Because alliswell.” He lifted his brows. “I don’t believe I’ve made myself clear. In this, you do not have a choice. Youwillpreside over a soiree next week and youwillfinish this ridiculous project by month’s end. Then, we will wed.” His eyes flashed. “Or, you will find yourselfconvalescingsomewhere even Ashbey and Hurtheven will not be able to assist...that is, until you come to your senses.”
“We’ll see.” She did not return his smile. “Won’t we?”
“You tread on ground far more treacherous than you can imagine.” His nostrils flared. “Do you think you can run to Hurtheven as you have in the past? I imagine he’ll be more than a little disappointed, especially as your change of heart came so soon after you rejected him. And, as for Cheverley’s other devoted friend…the Duke of Ashbey has recently wed. How much time to you think he’d devote to a childhood friend’s widow?” He folded his hands behind his back and then swiveled on his heel. “You are alone, my dear. Once you consider the alternative to my offer, I’ve no doubt you’ll change your mind.”
He left the room.
She shut the door behind him, turned the key in the lock, and then backed away, rubbing the palm he’d kissed against her skirts until she could no longer feel his lips.
How had Anthony known about Hurtheven’s marriage proposal?
She’d given Hurtheven serious consideration—who wouldn’t? Hurtheven had been kind and solicitous to her, and a life-long friend to Chev. He was handsome, powerful and, as his wife, she’d never have to worry about Thaddeus’s upbringing or Pensteague’s finances again.
In the end, however, she’d declined. Chev would always cast a long shadow, and Hurtheven deserved someone who could place him first in her heart.
He’d accepted her decision with grace. How would he respond now?
If Anthony’s attempt to drive a wedge between her and Cheverley’s friends succeeded, what was she to do?
Take Thaddeus and run.
But that was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? To render her powerless, either by seizing control of her purse and person through marriage, by frightening her enough for her to leave, or by sending her to—she swallowed—an asylum.
He must be afraid. Otherwise, he would not be working so hard to separate her from Cheverley’s friends.
Her calm returned, wrapping around her like a cloak.
She wasn’t going to run. Not yet.
She was not powerless. The duke was improving. Thaddeus was strong, and smart, and brave. And, no matter what rumors Anthony had spread, her bond with Cheverley’s friends could not be swayed.
Mrs. Renton’s suspicions had been correct. Anthony not only craved control of Ithwick, he wanted control—through her—of Thaddeus and Pensteague as well.
But Pensteague’s riches were nothing compared to Ithwick—so why?
She’d gather what information she could at the soiree. She’d enlist Emmaus—the strongest and most trustworthy of the sailors at Pensteague—as her eyes and ears in the village. And, she’d continue to scour the records.
Whatever Anthony and Thomas had set in motion, she would stop.
She was no longer the frightened young woman she’d been. She was a widow, a mother alone. She had survived more challenges than Anthony and Thomas had ever known. If they thought she would be easily intimidated, they would soon find they were very much mistaken.
Her future—and Thaddeus’s—depended on her success.
Chapter Four
