The sound of footsteps preceded Henley’s entrance into the parlor.Henley stepped in, his countenance graver than before, then his expression softened into a question.“Are you still here, waiting?”
“No, we are just taking tea after we did a few other things, but that is unimportant.What happened?”Anna replied, just as Peregrine sprung to her feet.
“Well?”she asked.
“Edwin has agreed, grudgingly, to grant Hawthorne one audience tomorrow morning.One chance to plead his case.”
Peregrine’s heart executed a reckless waltz.“And Lord Hawthorne?”
“I met him in the street on my way here, ironically.He accepted before I finished the sentence.”Henley hesitated, choosing his words like a man walking through a field of broken glass.“There is another complication.”
Anna lifted a brow.“Naturally.”
“Edwin is now obsessed with Mama’s… attachment to Lord Carver.He demanded answers.Hawthorne knows far more than any of us realized.I was able to communicate some of the information to him earlier when he’d calmed down.”
Peregrine felt the floor tilt.“What are you talking about?”
“That,” Henley said quietly, “is for Hawthorne to tell.”
Anna and Peregrine exchanged a long, wordless look.
“When?”
“After the meeting between Edwin, Hawthorne, and me, tomorrow.”
“I see.I suppose I cannot ask for more at the moment.”Pere nodded once.“Thank you.”
Henley spread his hands out in a helpless gesture.“I don’t know how it went sideways so quickly, but this is the first step in the right direction.”
“I suppose now, I simply wait.Good Lord.I hate waiting.”Pere sighed.
“No, my dear,” Anna added gently.“You’re anticipating, and that is far different.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Gabriel Ashford, Marquessof Hawthorne, stared at the canopy of his bed as the first hints of dawn crept through the curtains like unwelcome intruders.Sleep had eluded him entirely, a fickle mistress who had abandoned him to the ceaseless whirl of his thoughts.Peregrine—her name alone conjured a storm within him—the curve of her smile, the fire in her eyes, the way she had dismantled his defenses with nothing more than wit and unyielding spirit.And now, this meeting with her brothers, a gauntlet he must run to claim her.If only the ghosts of his past would cease their haunting long enough for him to envision a future.
He arrived at the Devon estate that morning, and the rare sunlight did little to flatter his appearance.His valet had done his best, but no amount of starch or polish could conceal the shadows beneath his eyes or the pallor of his skin.He felt as though he had been dragged through a hedge backward—twice.
Edwin, Earl of Devon, was already seated in the study when Gabriel entered, his expression a mask of stern propriety.Henley stood by the window, nursing a cup of coffee that steamed like his barely contained impatience.The room smelled of leather-bound books and the faint tang of ink, a sanctuary of masculine order amid the chaos of their family’s unraveling.
“Good God, Hawthorne,” Edwin said, his gaze raking over Gabriel with undisguised disdain.“You look as though you’ve spent the night wrestling with the devil himself.Did you even attempt sleep, or were you too busy plotting further scandals?”
Gabriel managed a wry smile, sinking into the armchair opposite with feigned nonchalance.“Ah, but the devil and I are old acquaintances, Devon.We merely shared a brandy and reminisced.Far more entertaining than slumber, I assure you.”
Henley snorted, setting down his cup and taking his seat at the desk, which served as an impromptu council table.“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we?We’re here to untangle this infernal knot, not exchange barbs.”He leaned forward, his eyes steady on Gabriel.“It began, as these things often do, with my sister’s madcap scheme at the start of the season.Peregrine declared she would snare a rake for a husband—purely to spite the ton’s expectations, of course.I, being of sound mind, told her the plot was foolish at best.”
At this, Edwin gave a huff.
Henley eyed him and continued.“Not knowing exactly how to dissuade her, I confided in Hawthorne, who also worked to persuade her against such an idea.”
“Persuade her in a different way, it would seem,” Edwin retorted.
Gabriel chuckled, a low, genuine sound that surprised even him.
The memory of that initial encounter flooded back—the ballroom alive with whispers, Peregrine’s bold gaze locking on to his like a challenge.“Ah, I can assure you, that was the last thing on my mind.Or hers.I can honestly vouch that she was plotting possible murder after our first few conversations.”Hawthorne looked to Edwin, and upon noticing his confused expression… “I’m not an idiot, Edwin.I know that men such as we…” He leveled a strong look at his friend, who had the self-awareness to look slightly abashed, and continued.“We are not the caliber of suitor for such lady such as your sister.That was my intention, to communicate that fact.But your sister was not inclined to take my advice, or that of your brother, and found a willing participant in her plan.”
“This story keeps getting worse.”Edwin sighed and leaned back in his chair.
