“Technicalities saved you. Everyone knows you did it. She killed my brother!” he said to the crowd. The gasp was loud and in unison as those gathered around them moved ever closer. “You weren’t content just to get rid of my brother; you had to go and pauper us all in the process. You have ruined not only my family but countless others and yet you show your face in public,” he spat. “It’s disgraceful.”
Oliver grabbed Blackhurst’s jacket. “That is enough! You have insulted a lady. I demand you apologize.”
“Bellamy, let him go, please,” Lisbeth said, before turning towards her brother-in-law. “If you wish to dispute the judge’s decision you may take it up with the court. My conscience is clear. If you wish to contest the will, you should have done so. In the meantime, I wish you to remove yourself, and your vulgar tongue, elsewhere.”
He turned to Lisbeth and pinned her with a dark stare, just as his cronies came to drag him away. “You took everything from me!” he yelled.
Oliver shook visibly with anger beside her. She turned and put out a steadying hand. “Don’t, please. I couldn’t bear it. Don’t call him out.”
He looked at her and took a breath, nodding. She knew it was not in his nature to be passive, especially in the face of such hostility from her brother-in-law. She was in no doubt that Bellamy would shoot sure and true. She did not want to see him banished from England, or worse, for defending her.
“The truth will out, you lying witch,” Blackhurst shouted over his shoulder.
Lisbeth called after Blackhurst, “I live for that day, dear brother. I sincerely do.”
Blackhurst growled an obscenity but was dragged down the hall and out of sight.
Lisbeth wanted to fall to the ground and sob her eyes out. Now, surely, Fenwick will never let Marie see her again. She looked around her, at the crowd of people staring at her, waiting. Their whispers seemed to swell around her. She saw their concerned expressions and wasn’t sure what they expected from her. When she did nothing but raise her chin, take her sister’s hand, and began to walk, they cheered. She looked at Marie, confused.
“Bravo, dear sister! They love you,” Marie said.
“I feel sick,” she replied, her hand going to her stomach.
“Well, you were magnificent.” Oliver kissed her hand and guided her to a seat.
“I thought you were going to challenge him for a moment there, Bellamy,” Marie remarked, still looking pale.
He looked at Lisbeth and then back to Marie. “I’m not one who generally likes to wake before dawn. However, if he had insisted, I would only have killed him a little.” He gave Lisbeth’s sister a smile and a wink. She laughed. He turned then to Lisbeth. “Would you have worried for me, Countess?”
She had no chance to answer because her grandmother had finally caught up to them. “Goodness! All those stairs. What was Blackhurst playing at?”
“Nothing really. He dislikes me and thought I should know,” Lisbeth replied.
“Those Blackhursts never did have any sense of propriety,” Lady Fortesque said a little breathlessly. “Are you two all right?” She was looking them over with concern.
“Oh, yes. Lisbeth gave him a piece of her mind and put him in his place,” Marie said, patting Lisbeth on the arm in a show of affection that Lisbeth had dreamed of for so very, very long.
Lisbeth took a sip of her champagne and held Oliver’s gaze for a few moments, her heart beating a tattoo against her ribs. The thought of him dueling over her, putting his life in danger, was not sitting well with her.
Would you have worried for me, Countess?
Yes, I would have worried for you, Oliver. I do worry for you.
The second half of the opera was uneventful, and they did not see Blackhurst again. Still, Lisbeth could not concentrate on the activities on the stage. What if Fenwick did forbid Marie from seeing her again? After what had happened with her brother-in-law, Lisbeth couldn’t really blame him. What if the consequences of this evening were too much for Marie to bear? For there would be scandal, and it would be in the papers tomorrow. There would be no hiding from it.
*
Oliver had beenquiet on the way back to her townhouse. He was thinking, she suspected. Probably going over the night, trying to see how he could have prevented their confrontation with Blackhurst. He would blame himself; she knew it. He had, after all, been looking for suspicious persons before they had even ascended the stairs at the beginning of the evening. He had sensed something wasn’t right, but she had not believed him, not really.
“I’m sorry,” Lisbeth said as soon as they had disposed of their coats in the hall. Her confession seemed to startle him.
He frowned briefly. “And what are you apologizing for?” His eyes turned so warm and comforting like the amber on her father’s favorite walking stick.
“I put my grandmother and sister in danger. I putyouin danger. It was never part of our agreement to put you in that kind of situation. Never.”
He waved her off. “Blackhurst is nothing but hot air. Air that smelled overpoweringly of gin.”
“It isn’t funny, Oliver. If he had hurt Marie or… you.”
