“Oh, he would definitely glower,” Ashley agreed. “He has at least seven different varieties of glower that I’ve cataloged over the years. My favorite is the one where his left eyebrow barely rises while his mouth turns down precisely three millimeters at the corner.”
Ashley demonstrated the expression, causing Courtney to dissolve into giggles.
“I received that exact glower when I had the audacity to suggest that his opinion on female education might be somewhat archaic,” Courtney recalled, smiling at the memory. “I believe he told me that ‘young ladies should concern themselves with accomplishments suited to their delicate constitutions.’”
“While teaching his mistress to read and hiring tutors for her,” Ashley added wryly. “The hypocrisy is simply breathtaking.”
“Perhaps there’s hope for him yet,” Courtney mused. “If he can care so deeply for someone society would deem unsuitable, maybe his rigid exterior hides a more compassionate heart than we’ve given him credit for.”
“Or perhaps he simply fell in love despite himself,” Ashley suggested. “The heart doesn’t always follow the dictates of propriety, after all.”
The observation sobered Courtney, reminding her of her own situation. “No, it certainly doesn’t.”
Ashley reached across to touch her hand. “How are you truly, Courtney? This terrible business with Lockwood—”
“I’m better now that Lucien knows everything,” Courtney admitted. “We spoke last night. He came to me after Mrs. Bellamy revealed Lockwood’s scheme.”
“He came to you? At night?” Ashley’s eyebrows rose suggestively. “How very…improper of him.”
Courtney felt her cheeks warm. “Yes, well, desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“And did these desperate measures include a reconciliation?” Ashley teased gently.
“We…reached an understanding,” Courtney replied, unable to keep a small smile from her lips. “He told me everything about Ava, about his time in Ireland. No more secrets between us.”
“I’m glad,” Ashley said sincerely. “You deserve happiness, Courtney, after all you’ve endured these past years.”
“If we can survive Lockwood’s scheme,” Courtney reminded her, glancing at the clock on the mantel. “Lucien and I have a plan for tonight’s ball, but much depends on what he learns from Kitty today.”
“Do you think Lockwood suspects anything?” Ashley asked, her expression growing serious.
“I’m not certain,” Courtney admitted. “He seemed so confident when he issued his ultimatum. I can only hope he believes I’m too frightened to defy him.”
“The man is a snake,” Ashley declared with uncharacteristic vehemence. “To threaten you and that innocent child—”
A sudden crash of breaking glass interrupted her words. Both women whirled toward the terrace doors where three figures stood amid the shattered remains of the French doors—Baron Lockwood flanked by two rough-looking men Courtney had never seen before.
“Ladies,” Lockwood drawled, brushing glass fragments from his immaculate coat sleeve. “I do apologize for the dramatic entrance, but I find myself requiring Lady Courtney’s immediate company.”
Courtney rose to her feet, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Baron Lockwood, have you lost your mind? Breaking into my father’s home in broad daylight—”
“A necessary expediency,” he interrupted, advancing into the room. His pale eyes held none of the false charm he’d displayed during their previous encounter—only cold calculation. “I’ve learned that Lord Furoe has been making inquiries this morning. Inquiries that suggest you may have betrayed our arrangement.”
Ashley stepped between them, her chin lifted defiantly. “You will leave immediately, sir, or I shall scream the house down.”
One of Lockwood’s companions—a burly man with a scar bisecting his left eyebrow—smiled unpleasantly. “Scream all you like, my lady. The servants are otherwise engaged in the kitchen. A small fire broke out just minutes ago. Most unfortunate timing.”
Ice slid down Courtney’s spine as she realized the depth of Lockwood’s planning. “What do you want?” she demanded, though she already knew the answer.
“A revised timeline,” Lockwood replied smoothly. “Rather than waiting for you to break your engagement gracefully, we’ll be departing for Gretna Green immediately. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging swift transportation.”
“You’re mad,” Courtney breathed. “I shall never marry you voluntarily. I’ll scream the church down.”
Lockwood’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood, Lady Courtney. This is no longer a request.” He nodded to his companions, who began advancing on either side of Ashley. “Your father will find his beloved daughter has eloped. Most shocking, but these things happen in the best families. Upon our return as husband and wife, I’m certain he’ll find it in his heart to forgive the impetuosity of young love—and provide the agreed-upon dowry.”
“I doubt that very much. You’ll ruin my life for nothing.”
He stepped toward her. “A father doesn’t like seeing his daughter hurt, and unfortunate accidents can happen if money is not forthcoming.”
