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Breathing like a winded bull, he scanned the room, his eyes constricting to furious slits when they lighted upon Meg curled in her chair.

‘Is that her? Is that the ragged little slattern you’re willing to disgrace me for?’

To Meg’s horror, Anthony turned towards her, but Jacob got there first.

Stepping briskly to the side he blocked his brother’s advance, forcing Anthony to a staggering halt and, raising his chin, he spoke over the Viscount’s head, addressing the warden who hovered uncertainly by the door.

‘May I use your rooms for a few minutes longer? I’d like to speak to my brother in confidence.’

‘Of course, sir.’ The warden nodded, evidently glad to be excused. ‘I’ll withdraw.’

Meg watched with helpless envy as the man disappeared. She would have given anything to go with him and leave the Fernley brothers to work out their differences without her, but then Anthony’s venom-soaked voice swept all other thought aside.

‘Did you send him away so he wouldn’t see you begging me to forgive your stupidity?’

His tone caused the hairs on Meg’s arms to stand on end, but Jacob’s calm didn’t waver.

‘Begging isn’t in my repertoire. I told you I wouldn’t stand by and allow a woman to be put to death because of your avarice. You left me no choice but to take action.’

‘Action? If you think your foolishness changes anything…’

‘It changes everything.’ Jacob took a measured step forward. He was taller than his half-brother and, in spite of the Viscount’s rage, Meg was sure she saw him recoil slightly, still livid but some fraction of his aggression checked. ‘Margaret is my wife. If you try to harm her in any way, I’ll tell the world you attempted to send your own sister-in-law to the hangman, and that you are now related by marriage to people you see as worse than mud on the bottom of your shoe.’

Meg sat very still, trying not to draw attention to herself as Anthony’s face slackened.

‘You wouldn’t do that.’

‘I would. Reputation is everything to you, but I’m not so concerned. If I must weather a scandal, I’ll do so. Would you be prepared to do the same?’

Anthony’s mouth opened and closed again like a landed fish. Some of his anger had clearly turned to alarm, but his wrath seemed to well up again when he shot Meg another burning glare.

‘I am the Viscount,’ he bit out, with much the same air as a child stamping its foot. ‘The Wellbourne estate is mine, and if I wanted I could exile you from it, you and your thieving wife.’

His spite could have blistered paint. It made Meg want to sink in her seat, the emphasis on ‘thieving’ filling her with unearned shame. She knew the label wasn’t truly hers to wear but it was humbling all the same, some part of her was mortified that Jacob had to believe she’d sunk so low.

He didn’t appear to register the slight, however. He still stood between his brother and her, so solid and immovable that it almost distracted her from her fear.

‘You won’t banish me, Anthony. Your daughter’s christening is next month and I know you will have told your circle that I’ll be present as her godfather. Isn’t the absence of your only brother something that will be remarked upon, the facts embellished until there are rumours of some rift?’

There was an unpleasantly long pause while the Viscount’s left eyelid twitched feverishly. Obviously some intense mental gymnastics were taking place behind it, the sight unnerving in the extreme.

‘Why have you done this?’ he demanded at last. ‘Why would you take the side of some peasant woman over your own flesh and blood?’

‘Because I had to.’ For the first time a crack opened in Jacob’s façade, a flicker of temper showing beneath his restraint. ‘In enclosing the estate you’ve ruined hundreds of lives. I had the opportunity to save just one, and so I took it. It was the very least I could do.’

Anthony’s lip curled. He looked as though he wanted to throw something but somehow managed to curb himself, although his rage was clear.

‘Fine. Keep her. You’ll tire of your good cause eventually, though, and when you do I’ll see to it that she gets what she deserves.’

Meg’s fear arched upwards once again. If that wasn’t a direct threat, she didn’t know what was, but Jacob moved before she could react.

He leaned down, bringing his face very close to his brother’s. ‘No. You won’t.’

There was something in his tone Meg had never heard before. It was far more intimidating than she’d thought he was capable of and it seemed the Viscount felt it too, his shoulders dropping slightly as he took an unwilling step back.

‘You won’t do anything to her, Anthony,’ Jacob continued, advancing to claim the ground his brother had surrendered. ‘Title or no title, you won’t interfere.’

The atmosphere in the room was so tense she could almost have cut it with one of her father’s scythes. The brothers watched each other, neither wanting to be the one to break first, but then Anthony turned aside.