Page 23 of Too Wicked for Heaven

He thought a moment, then told the footman, “Ask the Earl of Kensingham to come to my study. Alone.”

The footman raised one eyebrow, but left to convey the message. Neville ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting automatically to the open door to his bedchamber. The time had come to put his plan into action.

But this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to spring this on Althea while she wasn’t even awake. Until now he hadn’t considered what would happen to her when her uncle caught sight of her. But now he knew it would shame her. He couldn’t bear that, especially in front of the uncle she now felt so ambivalent about, thanks to him.

Surely there was a better way to bring Kensingham around. There must be. And he would find it.

By the time the second knock came at the door, he’d made up his mind. He moved quickly to the adjoining door and closed it, after checking to be certain Althea was still asleep. Then he strode to the outer door to his study, opened it, and beckoned the earl in.

Kensingham was dressed soberly, his face pale as he entered. Neville was vaguely conscious of his own unkempt hair and mussed clothing, but didn’t worry about it. The only important thing was to get this settled, so he could have Althea forever.

“What is this about?” Kensingham snapped. “Why weren’t you waiting out front? Are you crying off?”

Nev shook his head, meeting the man’s gaze unwaveringly. “Not exactly. But as I said last night, I have no wish to fight you. I’d prefer to settle this more amicably. And I think I’ve found a way to do so. I’d like to offer for your niece.”

For a moment, Kensingham merely stared at him, mouth agape. Then his eyes narrowed. “Is this some trick? The Fox? Marry? Why, everyone knows that⁠—”

“Everyone is wrong,” Nev said through gritted teeth. He was tired of having his reputation flung in his face. “I’ve always intended to marry sometime. Why do you think I was at a marriage mart last night? I want a wife. And I’d like it to be Althea.”

Kensingham gave a harsh laugh, his hands balling into fists. “What in the name of God makes you think I’d let her marry a scoundrel like you?”

It was the answer he’d expected. Still, he pressed on, forcing down the anger boiling up in him. “Don’t let what happened between us eight years ago stand in the way of your niece’s future. You know quite well I’m a perfectly suitable candidate. My exploits in the past have been no more outrageous than yours. You’re marrying a respectable woman. Why can’t I?”

“Because even if I did approve—and I don’t—she won’t have you,” Kensingham retorted. “I promised to let her have the final say on any suitor I choose, and she’ll never approve of you.”

“She will approve. If you don’t believe me, go home and ask her.” He didn’t know how he’d get Althea home before her uncle, but somehow he’d manage it.

“How can you be so damned sure—” Kensingham began, but broke off at the sound of the door opening at the other end of the room, and a female voice saying, “You promised to awaken me before dawn, Neville. Why didn’t⁠—”

Neville groaned as he turned to see Althea standing in the doorway to his bedchamber, her face flushed from sleep and the counterpane draped around her, barely covering her breasts. No man with an ounce of perception could mistake what she’d been doing for the past few hours. And certainly not Kensingham.

As her color turned to ash, Kensingham let out a roar. “What the bloody hell— Althea, what in God’s name are you doing here?”

“I-I . . . ” Her eyes went wide as she clutched the counterpane to her chest with a groan. “Oh, merciful heavens, Uncle Winston, what are you doing here?”

“It appears I am interrupting something abominable!” He turned to Neville, his face contorted with rage. “You bastard! You lecherous, deceitful⁠—”

“He’s done nothing worse than you’ve done to other women in the past, Uncle,” Althea cried out in defense of Neville. Her face filled with outrage as she stepped toward him. “You have no right to chastise him for sins you commit regularly.”

It was Kensingham’s turn to blanch. He stared at Neville, his eyes black with horror. “Oh, God, how much did you tell her about me?”

Neville felt a sudden pity for the man who stood trembling before him. “Everything, I’m afraid. She wanted to know the truth, and I gave it to her.”

Kensingham looked as if he’d been struck. “The truth? Why? So you could use it to seduce her? Did you say, ‘Look at what a lecher your uncle is. You might as well behave as wantonly as he’? Is that how you got her into your bed?”

“He didn’t seduce me, Uncle,” Althea said. “I went willingly. What he told me had nothing to do with it. It was my choice.”

Kensingham’s face grew bleak. “Your choice? You had none. Don’t you see? When a man like Foxworth decides to have a woman, he does what it takes to succeed.” Kensingham looked from Althea to Neville, then went pale again. “In your case, he had to have you in his bed so he could force you to marry him. He wanted to marry you, he knew I wouldn’t approve, and this is how he made sure it would happen.”

Neville’s heart sank. Somehow Kensingham had ascertained Neville’s intentions exactly, and Neville doubted that Althea would appreciate those intentions.

“Don’t be absurd,” Althea glanced at Neville, dropping her voice to a shaky whisper. “Neville doesn’t want to marry. Everyone says⁠—”

“He just offered for you,” Kensingham broke in. “Ask the man himself.”

Althea faced him with an incredulous expression. “Did you offer for me?”

“I never said I didn’t want to marry,” Neville told her, praying she would understand. “Not once, if you’ll recall. You believed the rumors, but they weren’t true. I simply never wanted to marry until now.”