Hart settled back in his seat and regarded the man down the length of his nose. “If I ever hear you or that wasp you call a wife say an unkind thing to Megever again, I will have you and all your belongings packed up and carted off to the outer reaches of India.”
The baron had the grace to look guilty. He threaded his fingers together and hung his head. “I understand.”
“Good. I’m glad we see eye-to-eye. I know why you and my father hate each other, but Meg doesn’t and I’d like to keep it that way.”
The baron cleared his throat again and faced Hart. “Why are you doing this?”
Hart considered the question. He might want to punishMeg for her treachery, but he wasn’t about to allow her father to be murdered or sent to debtors’ prison. Like it or not, they were family now.
And there was another reason.
“For some unfathomable reason, Meg loves you and her mother and she would be sad if you moved to Spain. Now, do you agree to my terms?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. Let me be clear… if you make a mistake, I’ll send you to Newgate myself.”
Minutes later, Hart was gathering his hat from the butler in the foyer when Meg’s mother sashayed up to him. The butler quickly disappeared. “Lady Tifton,” Hart intoned, inclining his head to the woman.
“My lord,” she answered. Her eyes were narrowed, but she had what probably passed as a smile on her face. “I heard what you said to my husband.”
“Which part?” Hart asked, wanting nothing so much as to leave the odious house as soon as possible. How the hell had Meg lived here so long with the two of them? “The part about paying off the debts or the part about sending him to Newgate if he makes any more mistakes?”
“Both,” Lady Tifton replied. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Listening at doors, are you?”
“My husband rarely tells me anything.”
“I cannot imagine why.”
She ignored that. “I also heard what you said about us saying anything bad to Margaret.”
“I meant that, too,” Hart replied. “Will it be a problem?”
She paced away from him. “You have no idea how difficult the girl is.”
“She’s not difficult. I’ve known her for years.” The fact that he had to defend Meg to her ownmothersickened him.
“She’s meek and mild and weak, just like her father.”
“No, she’s nurturing and kind and sees the best in people, unlike either of her parents.”
Lady Tifton scoffed. “She’s just not—”
“A son?”
The baroness gasped. “What?”
“Don’t pretend. That’s the reason you dislike her so much, isn’t it? You only had one chance to produce a son and you had Meg instead. My father tells me many things when he’s deep in his cups.”
The woman’s silence spoke volumes.
“Your husband stopped touching you years ago. His affairs are as legendary as his gambling debts.”
“I wouldn’t allow him to touch me,” the baroness spat.
“Yes, well, it’s not Meg’s fault she wasn’t born a son and it certainly wasn’t her fault that you two had no more children.”
