He slammed his uncle’s shoulder. “I think we both know that it does. I presume that Amelia, at least, is here?” he continued, “which is why you have sent for her father and former betrothed? A betrayal of a woman I had taken into my protection.”
“I act in the best interests of Westvale,” Edric defended, lowering his voice and speaking from much closer, “the two were threatening to litigate. She is under one-and-twenty and they have the right of it.”
“I would spend my fortune litigating on a matter of honor,” Keaton snarled. “Now take me to her, if you please.”
Edric snorted.
“It is best left to Silverton and the man he has chosen for his daughter. It has nothing to do with us—”
“It haseverythingto do with us. She is under my protection!” Keaton snapped, “Stand aside, Swinthorpe!”
He strode past his uncle, shouldering into him on purpose as he went further into the house. It was a house he knew almost as well as his own, but he had no idea where Amelia might be. He gritted his teeth—there was nothing for it.
“Amelia!” he called out, his voice ringing from the walls, “Amelia! It is Keaton!”
The sound of a commotion reached him from deeper inside the house.
“Your Grace?” Amelia's dainty voice emanated from the doorway to his uncle's study.
Keaton walked towards her briskly.
“Come with me, Amelia. We will go to Georgia together.”
“My father is here…”
“And as I told my uncle, you are under my protection. Do you wish to return home with your father?”
“No!” Amelia cried, instinctively.
“Well then. I offer you my house as a sanctuary.”
“That will not be necessary, Your Grace,” Keaton recognized the voice of Lord Silverton, “my daughter is my ward. She cannot—”
“If you are about to say she cannot choose her own destiny, think again. She has expressed the desire not to return to your house. That is enough for me. If you wish to press the matter, I will see you in court, and you will run out of money pursuing the case before I do, I can assure you of that.”
He offered his arm to Amelia and felt her take it. He turned smartly and began striding back towards the front door.
“This is the second time you have tried to interfere with my plans!” Lord Emsworth suddenly announced his presence.
Keaton halted, listening to the rapid footfalls approaching him from behind.
“If I stood at the centre of a clock dial, what hour would Lord Emsworth be approaching me from?” he whispered to Amelia.
“…Seven?” Amelia whispered back.
Keaton listened to the rapid cadence of shoes upon the hard floor of Edric's hall. Judged distance and direction. Waited.
A heavy hand fell upon his left shoulder. Keaton whirled, raising a hand, knocking the grip aside, and lashing out with a fist. It connected to what Keaton had thought would be Emsworth's jaw. He missed and felt, instead, the unmistakable crunch of a nose.
Emsworth howled, voice muffled. Keaton heard him thud to the floor.
“Do not get up on my account,” Keaton grunted, turning away.
“How can you put this family and its name at risk for a woman you barely know!” Edric snapped suddenly, rushing toward Keaton, “Were I Duke—”
“Alas, you are not. You are Lord of Swinthorpe, a Viscount, younger brother to my father, and in no way heir to Westvale,” Keaton said, coldly.
“Iwasheir after my brother until he had you!” Edric shouted scornfully, “And when you lost your sight...”
