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“The children will stay with their mother,” Lord Timothy repeated.
“Where they belong.”
“Where they belong,” Melville muttered.
“And you will write Lady Corbett a letter and inform her of the same,” he added. “Posthaste.”
A muscle tensed in the other man’s jaw. “I will write her a letter accordingly.”
“See that she receives it no later than tomorrow.” Apollo grinned. “Then we have an understanding. I’ll take my leave of you now, my lord.”
He didn’t await a response before he stalked from the spineless weasel’s study, a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.
CHAPTER 24
“I’ve come to take Reggie and Catherine.”
Ophelia stared at her brother-in-law, cold dread unfurling within her at his bald, icy pronouncement. He had burst into her sitting room unannounced, stalking past her poor butler as if he owned the town house and everything within it.
When she finally found her voice, all she could manage was one word, a guttural cry of pure maternal denial. “No!”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” he said. “It is my right as their guardian.”
She knew it was, but she had thought they had time. That after she married Apollo and Lord Timothy had the chance to see how happily settled they all were, he would change his mind about his concerns. She hadn’t thought he would steal her children away before she had even married Apollo.
“What is your concern?” she demanded. “I don’t understand. What has changed?”
“My willingness to wait has changed,” he said harshly, a wildness in his eyes and countenance she had never seen before. “I have been making inquiries about Prestwick, and I am told he is a base, vile scoundrel. A seducer of innocents. The man possesses all manner of vices that render him unsuitable to raise my nephew and niece. I simply cannot allow it to occur.”
“But we aren’t married yet,” she protested. “We won’t be wed for another fortnight. Perhaps we can settle upon a compromise between now and then.”
Apollo had promised her he would protect her. That he would protect the children. She couldn’t bear for them to be torn from her. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“There will be no compromise,” Lord Timothy told her, his voice frigid. “Now, fetch the children if you please. I have already informed Lady Timothy of their arrival, and she is eagerly awaiting them, ready to welcome them into the bosom of family where they truly belong.”
“They belong with me,” she argued, desperation making her voice go unnaturally high. “They are my children, not yours.”
“That is for me to decide as their guardian.” He was unfeeling, his face an impassive mask, though his cheeks were flushed and his eyes glassy, as if he had been imbibing spirits. “If you’ll not go and get them from the nursery, then I will get them myself.”
She shook her head, her mouth going dry. “I won’t let you take them.”
What could she do? Her mind was frantic. She needed Apollo, but he wasn’t here. She could send a footman to him, but it would likely be too late by the time he arrived.
“You haven’t any say in the matter,” Lord Timothy told her. “The law is clear that the children’s guardian has the sole right to decide where they live and what is in their best interest.”
The walls seemed to swirl around her.
He was right.
She had no recourse. The laws had been made by men to protect themselves, whilst women were left with no voice. A mother could not keep her own children. All because of the whims of one cruel man.
“I’ll go and fetch the children,” she said woodenly. “Wait here, if you please. I…I think it would be far less upsetting for them if I am to give them the news alone.”
Lord Timothy smiled, and it was the smug expression of a man who knew he had her at his mercy. “I’ll wait. But do make haste. I wouldn’t like to keep Lady Timothy waiting.”
In a daze, Ophelia left her sitting room, making her way to the nursery. Her mind was whirling, her heart filled with misgiving. There was something different about her brother-in-law this evening. Something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Not just the wildness, but another quality she recognized too well.
Desperation.
