“Rubbish,” said Marple. “You have been caught out, and you should slink back to the provinces where you belong.”
“You are making a fool of yourself, Cousin Jasper,” said Livy. “And a spectacle of us. Your mother shall be most displeased. Go away, do, and allow us to continue our walk.”
Cilla was trembling. Drake placed a hand over hers. “Do not be frightened,” he murmured. “We shall not allow that yapping cub to harm you.”
Her face was white and her eyes wary, but she smiled up at him, the gallant lady. “He is a yapping cub, is he not?”
“Cilla!” shouted the fool viscount. “I forbid you to walk with Sanderson. Andy, take my horse. I am walking my intended home.”
At that, color flooded back into the face of Drake’s beloved. She yanked her hand from Drake’s arm, took a step forward, and stamped her foot. “Jasper Marple, I would not marry you if you were the last man on the face of the earth. You are immature, selfish, lazy, and careless. Furthermore, you disapprove of everything about me except my dowry. My father has already told you that he will not allow you to marry me, and he will be most unhappy when he hears how you have embarrassed me and my sister today, in front of all these good people. Now go away and leave us alone.”
Cilla had flushed a becoming pink. Marple turned bright scarlet. “How dare you, you impudent strumpet. You shameless hussy.”
A new voice entered the fray. “Marple, I can only assume you are drunk. Andrews, take your friend home. Now.” It was the Duchess of Dellborough, and with her was the Duchess of Winshire and some other ladies—grand ladies, by their dress and their company. Drake had not noticed their carriage, having been so intent on not making an even greater spectacle of the ladies by hauling Marple off his horse and punching the self-righteous smirk off his face.
A group of riders accompanied the carriage, including the husbands of the two high-ranked ladies and Drake’s and Bane’s friend Drew. The Duke of Winshire said, “Drew, help Andrews, will you?”
Marple let out a screech of frustration through gritted teeth, and slashed his poor horse with his whip even as he dragged its head around. He took off across the grass and poor Andrews touched his own whip to his hat in a hasty salute to the ladies before galloping after him.
“I think there is no need to bother Andrew,” said the Duchess of Winshire. “Miss Sanderson, Miss Lucilla, are you well? Such an ill-bred display! One hopes your cousin will not ride out in public again while under the influence of drink.”
Her voice was pitched to carry to the crowd. The Duchess of Dellborough took a more direct approach. “Move along, please. This is not a circus or a raree-show.”
Muttering among themselves, the spectators obeyed, resuming their ride or their walk. But beyond a doubt, the main topic of conversation would be the confrontation between the Sanderson brothers and the Wintergreen sisters on one side, and young Viscount Marple on the other.
“If we can be of further help, let us know,” said one of the duchesses, and her friends nodded. “Shall we take you home, Miss Sanderson? Miss Lucilla?” one of them suggested.
Livy replied. “We would not wish anyone to believe our cousin’s calumnies against Mr. Drake Sanderson and Mr. Bane Sanderson. Abandoning them here in the park might give quite the wrong impression. But thank you, your graces, my ladies. My sister and I appreciate the suggestion and your offer of support.”
Drake’s own darling said nothing, but she tucked her hand back inside Drake’s elbow, and he placed his hand over hers, his heart melting inside his chest.
“Then we shall leave you to the rest of your walk,” the duke said, and the cavalcade moved off.
As Drake had come to expect, Livy was the first person to speak. “I apologize for my odious cousin, gentlemen. Do you suppose your brother really is telling such lies?”
“We know he is,” Bane admitted. “This morning, we had a letter from our sister Lark saying he has been spreading such stories around in Sheffield. I hadn’t expected him to write to Marple, but I should have. I am sorry you were subjected to such a scene. I don’t suppose the duchess’s claim that he was drunk will last for long. People will believe what they choose to believe. I can only hope our usual business partners won’t abandon us, and that we can live this rubbish down.”
It was a worry. Their entire livelihood depended on trust and honesty. Drake couldn’t imagine how those they invested with might react to Colin’s lies amplified by Marple’s spite, but he didn’t think it would be good.
“Hope is good,” said Cilla. “Talking to Papa and asking his advice would be better.”
“Yes.” Livy nodded vigorously. “Pa has taken a liking to the pair of you. He will be as angry about this as Cilla and I are, particularly given the reason for what we did on Misrule Night.”
Drake felt his eyebrows shoot up. “He knows about that?”
“Not the identity of the girl,” Cilla told him. “We did try to keep it a secret from Papa, but we should have known there was no point. Someone wrote to him about the incident. Once he asked, we told him what had happened, but he agreed he did not need to know the name of the girl on whose behalf we were attempting to exact retribution.”
“It could have been anyone in the three villages or the wider neighborhood,” Livy commented.
Interesting, and possibly significant, that she didn’t mention the ladies at the house party. Drake would keep that observation to himself.
Bane had turned back toward the park gates, and the others followed him. “I think we should go back to your father’s house,” he said.
“Perhaps we can walk again once this rubbish has been put to rest,” Drake suggested.
“Perhaps we can walk again tomorrow,” said Cilla. “Do you not agree, Livy? I shall not be dictated to by liars and bullies.”
It was a brave suggestion, but Drake looked at Bane and raised his eyebrows. Bane must have read Drake’s thoughts, for he said, “Shall we discuss that with your father, ladies? He may have some thoughts about ensuring your safety.”
