Devil take Anthony, hehadtrained her, hadn’t he?
But just because Chev had been right on that point, didn’t mean her decision to go down alone was wrong.
“Chev,” she said, “we must be smart. Patient. Anthony may well have murdered Piers—do you think he’d hesitate to kill you?”
“You don’t believe Icandefeat Anthony, do you?”
“Neither of us can—not alone.” Her eyes burned. “Please, Chev. Don’t go down now. Youaren’tready.”
“You made your feelings about that quite clear.”
“Ican’tlose you,” her voice cracked.
Chev squeezed his eyes closed and pinched his jaw with tight fingers, as if he were trying to shut something out.
Her?
She went to him, grasped and then lifted his left hand. “I’ve been delaying Anthony for months...just let me handle him one, last time.” She pressed her lips to his knuckles and then held his hand against her cheek. “We can win, but only together. And only when we’ve properly prepared. You always told me never to accept a challenge you did not define.”
He sighed roughly. “What would you have me do?”
“Listen in from the servants’ stair. If there is any problem at all, you can come in.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “No reckless gestures. Let us be wise.”
He nodded. “I will wait,” he replied. “But if he so much as raises his voice—”
“He won’t.” She exhaled. “Help me dress, would you?”
Cheverley assisted with the ties as she wound her hair back into a knot. When she was ready, she turned.
“Thank you.” She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I will see you soon.”
“Be careful.”
She gazed at him with a long, frustrated glance. “I promise I will. I amalwayscareful.” She had to be.
She left the chamber.
She’d upset him when all she’d been attempting to do was protect them—and their son. And he’d been doing the same.
She turned to make her way down to the library.
She’d won the skirmish, but the larger battle loomed. There must be some way to show him they worked better together.
At least he’d listened, for now.
The old Cheverley would have swept past her and entered the library with sword raised. And what would bloodshed have solved?
She adjusted her dress before opening the library door.
For now, she’d use the single tactic she’d successfully employed—delay.
She entered.
Anthony and his coterie lounged about the room sprawled across chaises and chairs, and, though this was the library, not one held a book. Every single one of them held a glass of deep red liquid.
“Ah, Penelope,” Lord Thomas dangled his glass by his side, “you have deigned to join us after all.”
Anthony’s cold gaze met hers. “Penelope likes to do things on her own terms, in her own time. The right husband could solve that, I wager.”
