“It’s not because I have any intention of marrying,” she said. She saw the sharp look that Brig cast in Nathan’s direction. She had never witnessed a more eloquent I-told-you-so. “That you think I could still consider it proves how depraved you both are. After tonight I want nothing to do with either one of you. I’m only sorry it’s taken this long to bring you together in such a manner. I should have liked to settle this the day after I heard you both talking in the garden. Remember?” Her cobalt-blue eyes strayed to Nathan. “Mother chanced upon us in the gazebo.”
“I remember.”
“Only it wasn’t chance.” Now she directed her gaze at Brigham. “You made certain my mother was in the garden.” Her eyes regarded both of them calmly. “Your mistake was supposing you could talk freely beneath my window.”
Nathan and Brigham tried to recall what had been said between them that night.
“Does it really matter?” she asked, divining their thoughts. “I learned enough to know that neither of you had any respect for me or cared anything about my feelings. I’m not certain I understand the nature of the game you’re playing and therefore I know nothing of the rules. I had to invent my own, gentlemen. I suffered Brig’s attentions these last three weeks while I waited for Nathan to try to see me again. I’m glad I wasn’t wrong about you, Mr. Hunter. I had hoped so very much that you wouldn’t give up. I’m only sorry Mother made it so difficult for you. Papa, however, righted the balance by directing you to the orphanage.”
The shotgun was heavy in Lydia’s arms and she lowered the barrel fractionally. “It happened just in time, I think, because Brigham was merely looking for the proper setting to make his proposal. The Newberrys’ fountain, Brig?” she scoffed. “Really. How could I take you seriously there? All those gaping marble fish.” She made a show of shuddering, oblivious to the anger flushing Brigham’s features or the tension at the corners of Nathan’s mouth. “And you, Nathan, so willing to follow suit when I told you that your friend had proposed. Your offer was a novel one, I must say. I admire you for not dressing it up with pretty speeches about love and desire. Brigham was not nearly so forthright. He wanted me to believe that our marriage was for an eternity. You were quite clear about needing me only for a year.”
Brig turned his head sharply in Nathan’s direction. “You told her that? Are you mad?”
Nathan didn’t answer. He was watching the shotgun, watching it sag still lower in Lydia’s arms.
“I think you’re both mad,” said Lydia. “Or so full of yourselves that you’ve lost all sense of good judgment. Coming here tonight, for instance. How easily you were convinced with a few kisses; how simply you were fooled into believing you were desired. You were fortunate I didn’t vomit at your feet. God knows, I wanted to.”
“Lydia,” Nathan said, a note of caution in his voice. Beside him Brigham’s fury was palpable.
She went on heedlessly. “If I was a fool in the beginning, you were fools at the end. My way is infinitely more satisfying.”
Brigham looked as if he were ready to leap at her. Nathan knocked him aside and lunged sideways himself. The shot from Lydia’s gun blasted harmlessly into the wall, mantelpiece, and hearth. She was so shocked by her own actions that she screamed and dropped the gun. Nathan scrambled to his feet, picked up the gun, and since it was useless after one firing, thrust it back in Lydia’s shaking hands.
“You might have killed us,” he said in a low voice. There was running in the hallway now, cries for Lydia, a call for the servants. He recognized Samuel’s voice, then Pei Ling’s. “You’d do well to think how your life might be different if that had happened.”
Her entire body was trembling now, but she faced Nathan squarely. “You’re supposing that your lives are worth something.” Brigham was coming toward her and she spit on the floor at his feet. “What are two digger convicts more or less to the rest of the world?” Brigham’s hand evaded the block that Nathan threw up and connected solidly with Lydia’s face. She slammed against the door just as it was being opened from the other side.
“Lydia!” It was Samuel. “Lydia! Answer me! What’s going on in there?”
“That was stupid, Brig,” said Nathan. He held Brigham back when it looked as if he’d go after Lydia again. “Answer Samuel,” he told Lydia. “He’s liable to come in here shooting.”
Samuel did indeed have a gun when he entered the room, a pearl-handled Colt that hadn’t been used in recent years but was kept in primed condition nonetheless. Lydia leaned the shotgun against the wall. Her left cheek was stained red in the aftermath of Brig’s slap. “These men were just leaving, Papa,” she said calmly.
In the doorway, Pei Ling was brushed aside as Madeline stormed into the room. She yanked the belt of her satin wrapper closed and surveyed the occupants of the room and the damage.
“Samuel? What have you done? What does this mean?” she demanded.
Samuel’s voice was as calm and even as Lydia’s. “Lydia tells me these gentlemen were just leaving, Madeline.”
“Leaving? Of course they’re going to leave. But what are they doing here in the first place?”
“Lydia?” asked Samuel. He kept his revolver leveled on Nathan and Brigham, although he thought there was no danger. Neither of them appeared to be armed and neither appeared inclined to put forth an explanation. Brigham Moore was breathing a tad heavily and there was a coldness about his eyes that put Samuel in mind of Madeline when she was angry. Nathan, on the other hand, was much more difficult to comprehend. His wolf’s eyes were implacable, his features shuttered by indifference. His shoulder was placed to the right and a little in front of Brigham, but Samuel couldn’t tell if he was shielding Brigham or planning to hold him back. “Lydia,” he said again, “answer your mother.”
“They proposed to me tonight, Mother,” she said.
“My God!” Madeline’s hand went to her throat and her gaze was frozen on Brigham. “This is absolute madness. They proposed here? You invited them here to make their proposals?” Her anger was icy. Her mouth was set stiffly and the blue flame in the depths of her eyes added not a whit of heat.
“I invited them hereafterthey made their offers,” she explained simply.
“You mean you accepted both of them?”
“No, neither of them.”
In the hallway, Pei Ling covered her mouth to smother a giggle. Her dark eyes darted from Lydia to her suitors to her parents. Other servants were crowding the corridor now and Pei Ling motioned them to be quiet else they would miss everything.
“You decided to shoot them instead?” asked Samuel. He plucked at his graying mustache thoughtfully. It was a damned French farce, he thought. He was standing about in his nightshirt, holding a gun on his daughter’s suitors while his wife asked angry questions, his mistress giggled, and the servants gaped behind him. He wasn’t even concerned about a scandal. Who would believe this of the Chadwicks? “Or perhaps they asked you to put them out of their misery, so to speak.”
“Samuel,” Madeline gasped. “How can you joke about this? Lydia’s gone entirely too far this time. Not only is she dressing like a bawd, wearing gowns Madame Simone meant for a gambling hall hostess, she’s acting like one. And you can’t say I didn’t try to warn her. Didn’t I tell her Mr. Moore was a convict and Mr. Hunter no gentleman? Yet you permitted her to entertain them both. At least I had the good sense to stop Mr. Hunter’s messages and his flowers.Yousaw to it that he was invited to the Newberrys’ party.”
