“One has to admire her courage. Warwick is bound to be furious once he finds out.” He shook his head. “As for her sister, if she married a man under false pretenses—a man who claimed to be someone he wasn’t—an annulment ought to be possible. I’ll call a meeting with your solicitor, Mr. Fischer, who will probably turn to the chief magistrate. It may take time to settle.”
Raphe nodded. “Please keep me apprised of the progress.”
“Of course.” Richardson paused on his way out the door. “Any news about the fight yet?”
“No. But I doubt it’ll be long before there is. A day or two at most.”
“Well,” Richardson said, his eyes softening as he spoke. “When scandal arrives it seems to do so in droves.”
An unfortunate truth that Raphe could not deny.
Chapter 27
Pacing restlessly back and forth in the parlor, Raphe listened with increased frustration to his sisters’ complaints about the lack of activity in their lives. It was only a day since he’d seen Gabriella last, but he’d been in an agitated state ever since and knew that he wouldn’t relax until he found out if she’d been successful or not in her attempt to break her engagement with Fielding.
“Is there no invitation that you can accept?” Amelia asked. “We’re out now. Surely we ought to be seen!”
“Not until you’ve perfected the quadrille and the cotillion,” he told her gruffly.
“What about the waltz?” Juliette asked. “Mr. Humphreys says—”
Raphe’s eyebrows shot up. “You will not be waltzing.”
Amelia glared at him. “Do you want us to find husbands or not?”
“Of course I do. And you will,” he assured her, “but not by waltzing.”
Both sisters huffed out a breath and rolled their eyes, their ladylike manners momentarily forgotten. “You’re too overbearing sometimes,” Juliette complained.
“He’s overbearing all of the time,” Amelia grumbled.
Raphe stopped pacing and faced them. “Must I remind you that Juliette has recently been quite ill? How do you think she contracted the measles in the first place? By going out in public, that’s how.”
“Then lock us in our rooms and throw away the key,” Amelia told him petulantly.
“You needn’t be so dramatic,” he told her. “But I’m your older brother. I worry about you and feel responsible for you. What if—” The reminder of loss, of holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, of watching her being placed on a cart and carried off to the cemetery, would always haunt him.
“You have to let us grow up eventually, Raphe,” Amelia quietly whispered. “You have to let us go so we can live our own lives.”
“I’m terrified of losing you.” His voice broke and he turned away, facing the window.
“We know,” Juliette said. “We feel that fear every moment of the day. You’re so protective of us, so frightened of letting us out of your sight. And yet, you did all of this for us.” She gestured to the space around them. “So that we can have the future you wish for us to have.”
“An impossibility, unless you set us free,” Amelia said. She waited a second and then suggested, “What if we do something here? At the house?”
Considering such a possibility—the chance for his sisters to socialize in a controlled environment—Raphe slowly nodded. “We can host a ball.” He began warming to the idea. “We’ll invite everyone—let them see that we’re deserving of their high regard.” Coventry would be able to help with that. Raphe was certain of it.
“I think that sounds splendid,” Amelia told him. “Thank you.”
The door to the parlor opened at that moment, admitting Gabriella, who brushed past Pierson before he was able to announce her. “I’m sorry, Your Grace,” the butler blustered.
“It’s quite all right,” Raphe told him, pleased by the sight of the woman who’d captured so much of his attention lately. Addressing her, he said, “I’m so glad you’re here so I can share the good news.” He waited for the door to close behind her before saying, “My solicitors are meeting with the chief magistrate today. I expect to hear from them by this time tomorrow, but in the meantime, you ought to know that I’ve invited your sister to stay with me until everything has been resolved.”
Gabriella’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Vicky and Lucy are here?”
He nodded. “They’ve been given one of the spare bedchambers.”
“When?” She looked dumbfounded. “I mean—”
