"An apology," he said to Dalton. "A sincere one. Or I'll see you at dawn regardless of your excuses."
Dalton looked between them, then at the crowd of witnesses. His shoulders sagged in defeat.
"Your Grace," he said stiffly, not quite meeting Isobel's eyes. "I spoke hastily and without consideration. I apologize for any offense given."
"Accepted," Isobel said, though the word tasted like ash.
Andrew stared at Dalton for a long moment, as if weighing whether the apology was sufficient. Finally, he nodded.
"Stay away from my wife," he said quietly. "Stay away from me. And if I hear that you've spoken one word against either of us, I will ruin you so thoroughly that bankruptcy will seem a mercy. Do we understand each other?"
Dalton nodded mutely.
"Good." Andrew turned to Isobel, his expression softening. "I believe we should collect your sister and take our leave. This party has lost its appeal."
Isobel nodded, still trembling in the aftermath because of the rush of adrenaline that hit her midway. Andrew's hand found the small of her back as he guided her through the suddenly parting crowd, people stepping aside as if afraid to be caught in the wake of his anger.
They found Joan and Lord Ashford by the hedge maze, both looking concerned at their approach.
"Is everything all right?" Joan asked, her gaze flickering between Isobel's pale face and Andrew's rigid posture.
"Everything is fine," Andrew said, his voice carefully controlled. "However, I believe it's time we returned home. Lord Ashford, a pleasure to see you again. Do call on us next week as we discussed."
"Of course, Your Grace." Lord Ashford bowed, then turned to Joan with a warm smile. "Miss Leyton, I've very much enjoyed our conversation. I hope to continue it soon."
Joan curtsied, her cheeks flushed. "As do I, Lord Ashford."
The carriage ride home was silent at first. Joan sat across from them, her eyes moving between Isobel and Andrew with poorly concealed curiosity. But she remained blessedly quiet, seeming to sense that now was not the time for questions.
Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Joan spoke. "I should check on Father when we arrive. Make certain he hasn't gotten himself into any trouble."
It was a transparent excuse, but Isobel was grateful for it. The moment the carriage stopped, Joan practically fled, leaving Isobel and Andrew alone in the dim interior.
"Andrew," Isobel began, "Why does Lord Dalton hate you so much?" The question burst out of her, all the confusion and concern of the afternoon crystallizing into those simple words. "What happened between you?"
Andrew was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as if he was trying to decide how much to tell her.
"The truth," she pressed. "Please. I deserve to know why that man looks at you with such loathing."
"You do," Andrew agreed. He let out a long breath. "Dalton is one of many men who lost substantial sums at the Mayfair Fox. He gambled away most of his fortune over the course of several months. When the debts came due, he blamed me for his losses rather than his own lack of restraint."
"So, he's another man ruined by gambling at your club," Isobel said quietly.
"Yes." Andrew's voice was flat. "Though I would argue that he ruined himself. No one forced him to place those bets. No one held a gun to his head and demanded that he return night after night, doubling down on losses he couldn't afford."
Isobel absorbed this, turning it over in her mind. Part of her wanted to be angry, to see this as confirmation of all her worst fears about the Mayfair Fox and what it represented.
But another part, the part that was coming to know Andrew, to understand him, recognized the weariness in his voice. The resignation of a man who'd been blamed for others' choices one too many times.
"Thank you," she said finally.
His head whipped toward her. "What?"
"Thank you. For telling me the truth. For not trying to deflect or charm your way out of answering." She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "And thank you for standing up for me. For defending me against him."
"I will always defend you," Andrew said fiercely. "Anyone who thinks they can speak to you that way will answer to me."
"But you shouldn't feel the need to duel every person who makes a scene or says something cruel." She squeezed his hand. "I'm not so fragile that I need you to risk your life over words."
