“How dare he leave his mark on you?”
Reggie shrugged, carefully avoiding his eyes. “Do you think Uncle Edward will make too much of the mark and assume the worst? I suppose he will feel it’s his duty to inform Uncle Jason of it. You don’t think they’ll want to rush the wedding, do you? I would rather wait a few months, just to be sure my first child is born after a decent interval of time.”
“This is blackmail, Reggie.”
She opened her dark blue eyes wide. “Is it?”
“Jason should have taken a switch to your backside when you first developed this talent for manipulating people.”
“What a terrible thing to say!” Reggie gasped.
He laughed then, shaking his head at her. “You can drop the performance, puss. I’ll get your Viscount to marry you, one way or another.”
She hugged him, her delight evident. “And there’ll be no more talk of killing?”
“None that will matter,” he sighed. “Since Eddie is the logical, business-minded one of us, perhaps he can come up with something to bring the man round without resorting to violence.”
He disengaged himself and turned to put the gun away. “You said Montieth wouldn’t agree, Reggie, and when a man is stubborn, it takes persuasion to change his mind. You can still changeyourmind, you know.” He looked at her intently.
“No. The more I think about it, the more I feel this is the right thing to do.”
“He might hate you for it, you know. Have you thought about that?”
“He might, yes, but I will take the chance. I wouldn’t consider marriage if he hadn’t found me attractive. But he did try to seduce me—try, I said. No, he will be my husband, Tony. Tell Uncle Edward and Uncle Jason that I will have no other.”
“Very well, then,” Tony replied, then added with a sharp look, “But you will keep that blasted scarf on, hear? There is no point in my brothers thinking any worse of their future nephew-in-law than they have to.”
Chapter 9
IT was half past ten o’clock in the evening, and Nicholas sat in his carriage outside Edward Malory’s house in Grosvenor Square, thirty minutes late for his appointment, but making no move to leave his carriage.
He had given up trying to guess what this was all about. He had understood that morning’s summons from Anthony Malory perfectly well, but since that earlier meeting had not come to pass, he no longer knew what to think. He couldn’t conceive of Derek’s businesslike Uncle Edward demanding a duel, but what else could this be about? Bloody hell!
Reggie watched the dark carriage from an upstairs window, her nervousness having increased to terror. He was not going to like what she had set in motion. No, most assuredly not. He must suspect why he’d been called there. Why else would he hesitate to come inside?
Oh, Uncle Edward had had quite a lot to say about Lord Montieth, emphatic that she know exactly what she was letting herself in for. He had known the Eden family for years, had been very good friends with Nicholas’ father, in fact. So Reggie knew it all now, including the stories of the other young women he had embroiled in scandal because they were weak enough to succumb to his charm. He was irresponsible, he was without conscience, he could be cold and arrogant, or ill-tempered. The charm he showed the ladies was not all there was to the man. Yes, she’d heard it all, but to Uncle Tony’s disgust, she had not changed her mind.
Reggie was using Amy’s room to peek out of the window, thanking her stars that she was alone upstairs. Aunt Charlotte had gathered her whole brood of children, all of them protesting vehemently, and descended on a friend outside London for the night. Reggie had been allowed to stay so that she would not have to wait until the next day to learn her fate. But she was to remain upstairs and not interfere in any way. Uncle Tony had been adamant about that. Even if she heard all hell breaking loose, she was not to venture downstairs.
Nicholas was relieved of his hat and gloves and escorted to the drawing room. The house surprised him by being much larger than it appeared on the outside. He knew that Edward Malory had several children; and the house was certainly big enough to accommodate a large family. The top two floors were probably all bedrooms, he thought, and the downstairs big enough to include even a ballroom.
“They are waiting, my lord,” the butler announced as they reached the drawing room door. No expression crossed the servant’s face, but his tone was disapproving. Nicholas nearly chuckled. He knew he was late.
All humor disappeared, however, when the butler opened the door, then closed it behind Nicholas. On a cream-colored sofa sat Eleanor Marston, his spinster Aunt Ellie; and beside her, Rebecca Eden, his formidable grandmother. At the moment, she looked ready to call down the wrath of God upon his head.
So. He was to be called on the carpet, was he? Lectured to by his own family as well as Regina’s? His one surprise was that they hadn’t summoned his “mother,” Miriam. How she would have enjoyed this!
“So you finally mustered the courage to come inside, scamp?” the old dame began without preamble.
“Rebecca!” Eleanor admonished.
Nicholas smiled. He knew his grandmother didn’t doubt his nerve any more than he did. She simply liked to ruffle his feathers. Aunt Ellie was always quick to come to his defense, bless her. She was, in fact, the only one who dared admonish the old dame. Aunt Ellie had lived with the old woman for twenty years as her companion, and he marveled at her stamina, for his grandmother was a true tyrant, ruling all around her with an iron will.
Long ago, Eleanor had lived with Miriam and Charles Eden at Silverley, in the first few years of his parents’ marriage, before Nicholas was born. But the constant bickering between the two sisters had sent Ellie back to her parents. Later, she had gone to visit Charles’ mother, Rebecca, out in Cornwall. She’d been there ever since that “visit,” coming to visit Silverley often through the years, but only to visit, not to stay.
“How are you, madame?” he asked his grandmother.
“As ifyoucare how I am,” she retorted. “Do I come to London every year at this time?” she asked him.
