“Oliver,” he said.
“Henry.” Oliver took the seat before the desk. “Thank you for receiving me.”
“You know I will never turn you away.” Henry’s gaze fell to the loose arm of his coat, and the bulge under his clothes where his sling lay. “Are you badly hurt?”
“A broken arm. Not too bad, so long as I keep it still.”
“It’s been seen to, I presume?”
“Had a physician take a look. He says there’s nothing to do now but wait for it to heal.”
Henry nodded, laying down his pen and steepling his fingers. “The carriage? I presume it did not survive as well as you appear to have done.”
Oliver did not have to wonder how his brother knew about the carriage; if it had still been functional, he would have driven up to the door in it. “It did not.”
“What happened?”
“The weather was poor, and I crashed.”
“Why were you driving in those conditions?”
“For once,” Oliver said, with self-deprecating wryness, “I was trying to save a woman’s reputation, not ruin it.”
“This being the lady you arrived with?”
“The very same.”
“Did you bring her here so I might bless the union?”
Oliver almost smiled. “Why, would you have agreed to the match?”
“That depends entirely on who she is and your intentions in marrying her.”
All amusement fled from Oliver. The last time he had left this room, he might have done so determined to access his inheritance at all costs, but that could not be further from the truth with Emily.
“Let me be clear,” he said. “If I marry Miss Brunton—and that is an if entirely at her discretion—then it will have nothing to do with you or your approval. I will have chosen her as the partnerof my life, and her circumstances do not make her any less appropriate a wife.”
“I see.”
“If we had intended marriage, I would not have dragged her all the way down here in this fashion. The reason we came has nothing to do with us or our relationship. Well,” he amended, seeing the injustice there, “nothing to do with her. The fault for her situation lies with me, and I hope you can help me put it right.”
“Is that so?”
“But before I tell you, I must make one thing plain.” The steel ring in his voice surprised even him. “What I tell you now does not leave this room. And when you see her next, you will not disrespect her in any way.”
After a long moment, Henry tipped back his head and gave a low bark of laughter. “By God,” he said. “You love her.”
Oliver scowled. “What of it?”
“I take it she knows of your feelings?”
“Some,” Oliver said cautiously. “I offered her my hand in marriage. Perhaps my timing could have been better”—he knew damn well his timing could have been better—“but I don’t think she wishes to marry me at present, and I will not force her to out of gratitude. And I will also not bring her into my family’s home only to have her be disrespected by my own family members.”
Henry held up a placating hand. “I have no intention of treating her with anything but respect, Oliver.”
“Good.” Oliver drew in a breath, then he explained everything that had occurred to get them to this point, including his cursory courting of Isabella and his mistake in taking Emily instead. The whole sorry tale, culminating in their trek across the country. “I could think of nothing else to do,” he finished. “I am to blame for the whole sorry affair, and this was the only way I could think of to put it right.”
At a sound outside the closed door, Oliver glanced up, and Louisa barged in, Emily following on her heels. Clean, wearing a green morning dress that made her hair gleam as though caught in a sunset, she briefly took his breath away.
