All the way back to Langham Hall, March considered the shopping excursion with Emma and Daphne tomorrow as they hunted for the perfect gown to match her mother’s earrings. Her thoughts drifted to Michael as they usually did whenever she had a free moment. She wondered what his favorite color was. What other types of fabric did he like to caress with his hands? Last night, he stroked and petted her as if he couldn’t resist the feel of the soft velvet beneath his fingers.
A footman silently opened the door, and March descended the steps of the Langham carriage that Pitts had insisted she take when she visited Emma’s bank.
“Is that you, March?” a male voice called.
Immediately she halted. She didn’t have to look as she recognized Rupert Lawson’s voice. Somehow, she’d lost her good fortune between the bank and Langham Hall. She glanced at the walk in front of the street and immediately pressed her eyes closed.
Rupert stood ready to approach her, but she hurried toward him. Determined not to let him upset her sisters or force his company on the duke and duchess, she decided to greet him, then send him away.
When she reached his bulky side, she nodded. “Whatever are you doing here?”
His gaze swept the street as if taking notice whether anyone was around. “My my cousin, you’ve come up in this world. Langham Hall, no less. How did you manage to twist the Marquess of McCalpin to do your bidding?”
“Is there something you need from me? Otherwise, I must go.” She tapped her foot in an attempt to quell her nervous energy. Every inch of her skin crawled in a desperate attempt to escape from him. “The duchess is waiting for me.”
“Mustn’t keep the duchess cooling her heels.” His sly smile reminded her of a fox attempting to break into the henhouse. “I stopped by Lawson Court this morning. Everything appears in order. Your Hart is busy with those infernally bleating bags of wool. Filthy loathsome things.”
“Thank you for your consideration.” She nodded and turned, but his hand shot out and twirled her until she faced him once again.
“Mrs. Oliver said in your rush to leave Leyton, you left the viscount’s study a mess. Being the gentleman that I am, I offered to straighten it up for her.”
Fear started to bloom like runaway weeds overtaking a garden. “What do you want?” she whispered.
“This little escapade of having the Marquess of McCalpin named your guardian and supervising the estate’s money was beyond foolish. I told you that once I married Julia, I’d take care of everything. Now, you’ve complicated matters.”
She stared wordlessly at him.
“I will marry Julia,” he warned.
Leaning close, his putrid breath assailed her. She turned her head and inhaled, allowing the cold air to wash away the stench of his breath.
“Don’t you dare do anything to jeopardize my plans,” he growled. “Otherwise, you’ll not like the results, understand?”
She took a step back to escape. Defiantly, she lifted her chin and regarded him. “You’ll have to discuss the matter with the marquess. He’s Julia’s guardian.”
“I’m warning—” he commanded.
“Warn away, Rupert.” As if preparing to defend herself, she clenched her fists. What she wouldn’t give to be able to knock him to his knees. “It’s out of my control.”
“You leave me no choice, March. I’m sorry it’s come to this.” His calm voice carried through the cold air as if commenting on the weather.
Shock caused her retort to wedge in her throat. He was threatening her; or worse, he was threatening her sisters.
* * *
McCalpin rode Donar to the entrance of Langham Hall and immediately halted. The sight before him sent his blood boiling. Naturally, March would have admirers. She was a lovely young woman, and any man with a lick of intelligence would be calling on her.
It was a bloody inconvenient oversight on his part that he should have anticipated, but didn’t. He took a deep breath to quiet the jealously that burned through him. The effort failed completely, so he decided to do the next best thing. He threw the reins to a Langham groomsman and walked toward the couple. He’d do his damnedest to send the fellow on his way. He wanted to spend the afternoon with her. All under the guise that they’d discuss the upcoming events that March and her sisters would attend.
His real purpose was to discuss the kiss and Lady Miranda. If Emma was correct, and that’s what had upset March last night, he’d dissuade her from worrying over the chit. Then they could perhaps take a walk through Langham Park. He’d like to show her a tree he’d planted as a boy, then perhaps steal another one of her sweet kisses as a memento of the day.
When he reached her side, he understood this wasn’t a caller. Her back was ramrod straight and she was putting distance between herself and the stranger. The tension between the two was obvious.
“Good afternoon, Miss Lawson.” In a move designed to allow her to feel safe, he stood close to her side. Why this man frightened her was something he needed to determine before he’d pound the blackguard into the ground. “Would you do the honors and introduce me?”
She inched closer to him. Her slight movement caused his anger to roar as it gnashed and tore through him. When she had faced him in his study that first time, she’d never shown fear like this. Even with her injured hand and blood all over her, she never quivered as she did now.
It took everything in his power not to push her behind him as he dealt with the miscreant before him.
“My lord, this is my cousin, Mr. Rupert Lawson.” Her voice was faint, and when she glanced at him, stark, vivid alarm colored her expressive eyes.
He slowly, but with all the haughtiness he possessed, ran his gaze over the corpulent misanthrope before him.
“The Marquess of McCalpin,” she offered meekly to her cousin.
The man bowed profusely. “My lord, an honor to meet you.”
He nodded, but didn’t offer a response.
The man’s eyes briefly narrowed. If McCalpin hadn’t been watching him so carefully, he might have missed the brief flash of hatred.
“It’s a noble endeavor to accept the responsibility for the viscount and his sisters. As a loyal cousin from March’s father’s side, I’d be more than willing to handle the guardianship and the estate if you find … perhaps it’s more work than you’d expected.”
The slight grin on his face made McCalpin angrier.
“There’s no need, Mr. Lawson. I’m enjoying my newfound role with the Lawson family immensely. They’re truly lovely”—McCalpin gestured toward the mansion behind him—“and the duke and duchess are simply captivated by them all. I could never, nor would I want, to shirk my responsibilities.” He gently took March’s elbow in his hand. “Besides, I understand you’re Lord Lawson’s heir. Unseemly to put you in such a difficult position. Every transaction you’d approved for the viscount or on his estate’s behalf could be questioned.” He delivered a composed smile. “No need to thank me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re expected inside.”
“My lord, it’s been a pleasure,” Lawson said. He turned to March. “Cousin, I shall call upon you again to continue our discussion.” He sketched something that looked like a bow, then strode away from them with his cane twirling in the air as if he were the happiest and most carefree man in all of London.
March shivered, and McCalpin’s attention immediately switched from Lawson to her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “He’s despicable, but it’s all bluff.”
“What did he want?” McCalpin watched Lawson until he disappeared.
“Julia and our money,” March sighed. “I told him it was out of my hands, but he kept pressing that something dire would happen.”
“Come with me.” McCalpin offered his elbow, and she took it immediately. The grasp of her hand around his arm was surprisingly strong, but her gait was weary and hesitant as if she couldn’t walk the short distance to the entrance. He wavered between strolling into the mansion like this or picking her up in his arms and carrying her in.
“Ma belle embezzler, it’s over. He can’t hurt you or your family. Now, I need you to stay strong and walk in there of your own accord, or if your preference is something else, I’ll pick you up.”
“Quit calling me that,” she protested.
“What? Embezzler?” he teased.
Her eyes widened in confusion. “Beautiful.”
Tenderly, he whispered, “I don’t like to tell a falsehood. Now, if I had my choice, I’d carry you into the house.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. With an inherent determination, she straightened. “Thank you. I’m ready to walk in now.”
There was her strong resolve he so admired. “I’m ready to kiss you now,” he whispered close to her ear.
She bit her lip and glanced away.
God, she was ravishing.
An unbridled need swept through him like a wildfire to protect her from the ugliness that dared harm her or her family. Before he did something foolish like kiss her in the middle of the street, he squeezed her hand and led her to Langham Hall.
Pitts opened the door, and after discarding their wraps and hats, McCalpin took March to the library.
Once inside, he turned the lock to avoid any interruptions from the servants. Once he had her settled in front of the blazing fire, he poured two small glasses of brandy. He settled next to her and gave her the glass of spirits.
“Drink it all.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her take a small sip. “More,” he growled, then took a large swallow of his own. She did as directed. The small act of concession caused a flicker of contentment to take root, pushing aside his remaining discontent over her dismay. She’d be her strong confident self in no time.
He tilted the glass up and finished his own serving. He angled his body close to hers. “Better?”
“Infinitely.” The fear had receded from her voice. She even offered him a smile, one that reminded him of last night when he’d held her in his arms.
“I didn’t get the opportunity to ask last night, but where did you learn to dance?” An excellent dancer, she’d been warm and supple in his arms as he’d whisked her around the mezzanine. Her height matched his, making it easy to maneuver the steps. He leaned back and regarded her. “You’re quite accomplished.”
Her cheeks burst into a rosy blush.
Good lord! Somehow, such a simple response robbed him of his very breath.
“That’s very kind. My mother and father taught me. Then they’d allowed me to practice by attending several small assemblies in Leyton. The wanted me to be ready for my Season.” She studied the glass in her hand. Gently, she placed it on the side table without making a sound.
“Have you always been frightened of your cousin?”
She shook her head, then lifted her gaze to his. The fire caught the flecks of gold in her warm eyes, making them flash with light. “Lately, he’s become bolder in his demands. He’s too old for Julia, and she’s too kind for him. I’m afraid he’d crush her spirit if they made a match.” Her low voice shook as she returned her gaze to the fire. “His indifference to Faith has turned into something quite cruel.”
“How so?”
She grew silent again, and the fire crackled as if encouraging her to continue. She appeared to be lost in her thoughts. He leaned close, and the movement drew her attention back to him.
“March, I can’t protect your family if you don’t tell me more,” he coaxed.
She rose from the chair with an inborn grace that enhanced the lush lines of her body. Her destination was the fireplace where she idly took the poker in hand and jabbed the logs. The flames shot higher. After she was apparently satisfied with her work, she faced him.
“Leyton always has a hunt in early spring. Rupert had planned to present the prize of the foxtail to Faith. It would be unspeakably cruel, and it was a move to hurt not only her, but me.”
Her shoulders had dropped as if she’d been defeated. With a sigh, she studied the grounds of Langham Park from the windows that lined the study’s far wall.
“Go on,” he gently insisted.
“My parents always hosted the hunt for the community. Faith normally trailed after me, but during the hunt one year, she didn’t. Caught up in the excitement, I didn’t bother looking for her. Yet something niggled my conscience, so I searched for her. She was chasing a pup in training for the hunt. As the dog wandered toward the pack, Faith followed, coaxing it away with a piece of bread. Before I could reach her, the Master of the Hunt had blown the horn, and the horses were off. Faith ran behind the hunters but one man lagged behind. He had difficulty controlling his mount. Faith ran in front of them.” Her voice softened until he could barely hear her. “The horse shied and reared up on its hind legs. Faith fell in the commotion, and the horse came down on its front legs.”
“So that’s how she was hurt,” he whispered. He rose and slowly crossed the distance between them. He clasped her hands, ice cold beneath his; he rubbed his thumbs across her palms.
She didn’t say anything for a long while, but her stoic face appeared ready to crack under the guilt, the type that tore souls in half. He’d seen and felt it before himself. The pain colored every aspect of one’s life. It took every ounce of self-control not to sweep her in his arms and protect her.
“I should have followed her. Because of my lack of regard, Faith suffered a broken leg and severe wounds caused by the horse’s shoe. She suffers every day because of my carelessness.” Her words were soft, but it didn’t hide her pain or the fact her actions haunted her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. More than she could ever imagine, he knew her pain and guilt. He lived with it every day also—the gnawing ache of doubting one’s own worthiness to exist in this world. Mrs. Ivers’ hateful words that he was unfit to be his father’s heir were still weapons of torture. The fact he was a simpleton who masqueraded as the heir to a mighty duke, one who loved him dearly, was a heavy burden that sometimes made him numb.
“I’m sorry also.” She dipped her head slightly as if she couldn’t face him. She drew her hands back and clasped them together. “Rupert wants to publicly present her with the prize of the foxtail as a way to humiliate Faith. He obviously hoped to weaken her chances even further for a match.”
“He’ll not bother either of you again, I promise.” If he could, he’d consume her guilt as his own. It would add little to his overwhelming burden, but it’d release her to live a happy life, one she deserved after all the heartache she’d had to bear.
She raised a dubious eyebrow. “Careful, I may hold you to that promise. He’s like a slow toxic poison, but I can’t refuse to see him. He’s really the only family we have left.” She blinked several times as if to clear her thoughts.
“Trust me, March,” he said.
She frankly assessed him with a sharp gaze.
“I don’t know if I can,” she murmured. “I’ve been on my own for so long. It’s difficult to release any of the responsibility. It’s like a carefully constructed bridge. If I pull off one plank, I’m afraid the entire structure will fall.”
“The guilt and grief you’re experiencing can be harmful if you don’t try to unburden some of it. We all experience grief in one way or another. It keeps us from reaching our potential if we allow it to become too heavy. Your sister is happy and receiving medical care.” He let out his breath.
Her intelligent eyes missed little. “Do you have any experience with such guilt and grief?”
For a moment, he believed she saw every fault he’d tried so hard to hide. “Of course, I’m human. It’s part of our being.” It was imperative that he turn the conversation to other matters before he confessed how flawed he really was. “Now, I’d like to discuss last night.”
She immediately stepped away. “You don’t have to explain. The magic of last night caught us both unaware. Let’s not mention it again.”
Her dismissal burned through him as if someone had pressed a red-hot anvil against his chest. He’d not allow her to withdraw from him, not after all they’d shared. “Last night was a joy for me, one that doesn’t occur that often. I despise society events, even ones my own mother hosts. But nothing would have kept me away from celebrating the night with you and your family.” He grasped her chin in his fingers and encouraged her to look at him. He wanted her to see his sincerity. “For selfish reasons, I wanted to see you in that dress. I wanted to dance with you.”
With tightly pursed lips, her skepticism slipped once again. “Please, don’t. I’m not and never will be fooled by such sayings.”
He blinked, not certain he’d heard her correctly. He was giving her a compliment and she was throwing it right back in his face in disbelief. “Why is it so hard to believe that I wanted to spend time in your company?”
“My lord—”
“‘My lord’ is it?” His nostrils flared as he exhaled in an attempt to keep himself from shaking some sense into her. “Why is it so hard to believe that you’re attractive? Sometimes I don’t have a clue as to what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”
“I’m not the type of woman you find attractive,” she said. By now, that steel determination of hers had taken up residence in her stance. “I’m not Lady Miranda.”
He shook his head in an attempt to quiet the need to shout his frustration. “I don’t give a damn about Lady Miranda or any of those other chits that parade about town seeking a husband. I danced with her for reasons other than her company.”
“Such as laughter and smiles and looks of flirtation and infatuation…” Her voice trailed to nothing at the words. Suddenly, a scarlet color blossomed across her cheeks. With that little outburst, she’d disclosed that he did affect her—perhaps a great deal. The idea delighted him and eliminated his remaining consternation at her earlier denial of her attraction.
Not allowing her to turn away from him, he closed the distance between them until they almost touched chest to chest. She had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Perhaps you saw that on her face, but I assure you that I wasn’t feeling any of those things.”
He drew a deep breath and allowed her lilac scent to fill him. Every inch of his body tightened in readiness as he lowered his lips to hers. The slightest moan escaped her, and her mint breath scented with brandy brushed against his lips. With an ease that warred with his rising desire, he kissed her. The taste of her soft lips threatened to unleash an insatiable need, one only she could satisfy. He forced himself to slow his movements. On a gentle sigh, she opened her mouth, inviting him to take more. For an instant, he slanted his mouth over hers to do just that. Then reason prevailed, and he drew back. He didn’t dare take more from her, though he wanted to crush her to him and ravish her mouth as he did last night.
He had other plans for his little embezzler—a long-term strategy that would lead her to trust him and relieve some of her ever-present burden. He’d tease and tempt her until she begged him for more. He’d show her passion and desire until she writhed for more.
He’d make her believe she was beautiful.
Even if it was his complete undoing.
* * *
The next morning found March’s sisters in high spirits as they broke their fast. Faith leaned close and whispered, “I still cannot fathom why there are four footmen ready to attend us at breakfast every morning. At Lawson Court, we cooked and cleaned for ourselves.”
Glee laced the wonderment in her sister’s eyes. Their circumstances had catapulted from poverty to great wealth in just a short order. March surveyed the breakfast room that overlooked Langham Hall’s beautiful park. The opulent gold and pink baroque decorating didn’t diminish the coziness of their morning gatherings. Their acceptance in the Langham home was a true testament of the duke and duchess’s generosity.
Julia was a veritable chatterbox this morning. Yesterday afternoon, the Earl of Queensgrace had come to call on her with a small but delightful posy. March and Faith had already heard her thorough monologue regarding the Scottish lord’s refined manners and elegance, but the unfortunate Lord William had not. When he happened to sit with them in the breakfast room, Julia had jumped at the opportunity to share her story with someone else.
“The marquess had the posy especially made for me and delivered it himself.” As she regaled Lord William with every minute of the previous afternoon’s visit with the Scottish lord, Julia buttered her toast. It made little difference that she’d slathered butter on the piece of bread three different times. She was too enthralled with yesterday to pay the poor slice much attention. “He said the violets matched my eyes.”
Michael’s brother sat patiently sipping his coffee, and occasionally nodded his encouragement. March glanced at Faith, who had bowed her head in embarrassment over Julia’s continued onslaught extolling the virtues of the young lord.
“The marquess asked if he could take me for a ride in Hyde Park.” Julia finally stopped talking and sighed as she looked at the gloomy gray skies outside. “I don’t care if it’s a torrential rainstorm. I’m going.”
William regarded her and took another sip of coffee while trying to hide his smile. “Julia, it’s sleeting outside. You’ll freeze to death.” He folded the paper in his hands and stared as if it offered a welcomed reprieve from her incessant nattering. “Besides no one of the ton will see you with the young lord. They will all be home by a fire staying warm, which is my advice for you. Don’t appear too eager, my dear. Men hate that.”
“They do?” Julia’s brows drew together, and she frowned. “What should I do?” Her beautiful face melted into an unease that lined her brow.
March shook her head. “He’s teasing you, dearest.”
Julia narrowed her eyes at William, and this time he allowed himself to laugh aloud. “Forgive me, it’s just that you reminded me of Emma when she found something passionate to dwell on. She was an expert at holding all of us captive at the dinner table until she had finished her dissertations. I would always tease her unmercifully and couldn’t resist with you.”
“What types of things did she share about her callers, my lord?” Julia set her cutlery aside and gave him her undivided attention.
He leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling. “I don’t recall her ever discussing any man. She mostly talked about politics and women’s roles within society.”
“How silly my musings must sound.” She shyly dipped her head and bit her lip as if censured. “I apologize for not curbing my tongue.”
He briefly regarded March and Faith as if begging for help. “Julia … I didn’t mean that as a criticism. I was describing my darling sister’s personality.”
Faith leaned forward and patted Julia’s hand. “Dearest, we should probably get ready. Lady Somerton and Lady Daphne will be here shortly to take us shopping.”
March wouldn’t let her littlest sister suffer either. “Julia, your excitement is perfectly normal for a young woman enjoying her first Season. I dare say if I’d experienced your success, I’d be a prattling fool. No need to feel embarrassed.”
Lord William smiled down the table. “Indeed. It’s a joy to have you and your sisters here. You bring a vibrancy to Langham Hall that’s been missing since Emma married Somerton. I wouldn’t have you change a single thing about yourself.”
Perhaps it was the words or the way he said it so warmly, but immediately Julia’s disquiet lifted. She was back to her happy self again. With a nod and a smile, she took her leave with Faith. March stayed and continued to enjoy her tea and toast in relative silence.
William placed his paper down on the table and studied her. Not with the usual air of interest, but with something that set her on edge, as if slipping on a rocky slope and waiting for the inevitable fall. In response, she straightened her shoulders and stared in challenge.
His gaze pierced hers as if he studied her every mistake and misdeed. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “I was hoping you might share with me your circumstances at Lawson Court before my brother petitioned the court for guardianship.”
The question took her by surprise, as she’d assumed Michael told his brother everything. The two were inordinately close. Practically every day they were together. Michael had even shared that when he traveled to McCalpin Manor, William usually joined him.
The attending footmen quietly gathered the used plates and then left the room. March placed her hands in her lap to quell the sudden nervousness. She despised having to relate how she and her family had lived in abject poverty for so long. Nevertheless, as Michael and his family had been so generous and loving toward hers, she didn’t want to keep anything hidden, particularly after the way William had first met her with the fruits of her embezzling spread before him like a proverbial feast.
“I had five pounds left to manage the estate for the next six months. The house had suffered severe damage during a storm along with our one and only tenant who suffered as much, if not more, damage than we did.” She gathered enough courage to share the rest. “When your brother came to discover our circumstances, I was at my wits’ end. It was horrifying.”
“Why? What were you afraid he’d discover?” His voice was pleasant, but there was a hint of skepticism in his drawl.
“How poor we actually are,” she murmured, then corrected herself. “How poor we actually were. When he found me, I’d been trying to capture some sheep we’d lost, and…” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I was injured in the process. Michael—the marquess—was very kind and helped me back to the house.” She took a deep breath for fortitude, but the old familiar humiliation started to rise, much like a dough of bread. The only difference was that the bread could nourish while the humiliation ate her from within. Shameful, burning tears flooded her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“My brother was so delighted there was an actual peer who’d come to ‘visit him’ that he asked your brother to stay for dinner. Everything we had for the week was served that night.”
“Go on.” His voice had lowered.
Oh God, was she really going to share the rest? “It’s humiliating.”
“I won’t judge you, March.”
“But you want to, don’t you?” she whispered. Where had such a spiteful comment come from? He hadn’t said anything to warrant such a hateful response.
“No, I want to know what McCalpin has gotten himself into. I need to know what he’s facing by helping you.”
“Fair enough.” She swallowed, but her disgrace had lodged in her throat like a brick. “Bennett’s cat brought in a freshly killed rabbit, and my brother joyfully related how it would be our dinner the next night.”
His face froze, except for the slight tightening of his jaw muscles.
“Bennett asked if the marquess wanted to eat with us again.” This time she laughed in defense of all her failures.
“Did you eat the hare?” he whispered.
Finally, she gathered the courage to face his condemnation. Whether she was twenty-four as McCalpin thought or her true age of twenty-five made little difference. She was unable to keep her family safe and fed. Nothing William could say would make her feel any worse about herself than she already did. “Yes. In a stew the next night.”
He didn’t have a response, but the shock on his face wasn’t something she’d likely forget in her lifetime.
She tried to explain—tried to make him understand that desperate times required desperate measures. “Otherwise, my siblings wouldn’t have had anything to eat.”
“I apologize that I intruded on your private business.” His brow lined as he struggled to find the right words. “You understand I must protect my brother.”
“How is asking these questions and discovering my shame protecting your brother?” Remarkably, she kept her voice from shrieking. Inside, she railed at the way the world had treated her family. Like a building storm, her anger at the injustice of it all grew too big to contain, and she unleashed it. “My father gave tirelessly for this country and for what? All the men he trusted to protect his progeny failed him, and in return, us. The viscountcy is flush with money for the care and upkeep of the estate, but we haven’t seen a shilling. My brother is a peer of the realm for goodness’ sake. He and his sisters shouldn’t have to face poverty. The money I took rightfully belongs to me, but nobody gave a damn about us.”
Her eyes widened in horror, and she brought her hand to cover her quivering lips. She’d said the words aloud. She’d let those vile utterings spill and splatter around her like an overturned cup of tea.
She glanced away in a vain effort to gain some control over the riot of emotions that continued to pound through her. This was her mess, and she’d clean it as she always did—with as much acumen and grace as she possessed. He would most likely condemn her as a common, shrill woman without any class or manners. Perhaps she deserved nothing less for the outburst.
She clenched the fabric of her dress so tightly her hands hurt from the strain. She forced herself to release her grip, then cleared her throat. “I apologize, but I must ask, why are you interested?”
She forced her gaze to his and waited for whatever censure he would serve.
His face softened. “You honestly don’t know why I’m asking these questions?”
She didn’t answer as she continued to stare at him.
“It’s obvious to me, and I’m sure deep down you see it too. My brother has taken quite an interest in your well-being. Not because you’ve proven to be quite the proficient embezzler. He’s taken an interest in your family and specifically in you. For heaven’s sake, my father has even taken your brother to the House of Lords to hear arguments. Somehow you and your family have bewitched mine.” He rubbed his hand down his face as if this exchange was painful for him.
If he wanted to know pain, he should sit in her chair for just an hour. “A proficient embezzler? That’s how you see me? Does the reason why I embezzled my money mean nothing?”
“But it’s not your money until you turn twenty-five, is it? It’s the trust’s money and McCalpin holds the key.”
It was a wasted effort to argue about her age. With her back straight, she refused to be cowered by him. “What would you do if your family literally had to eat what the cat drug in?”
She waited for a response, but he simply watched her—silent but alert. He reminded her of a fox licking its chops as a rabbit cowered in front of him. His silent denial infuriated her even more.
“I’m glad you’ll never have to walk in our shoes, William. But I’ll share something with you.” She leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper. “If I had to do it all over again, I would, and never think twice.” She laughed to conceal her agony. “Frankly, I could care less how you regard me. I’d do anything to protect my sisters and my brother and Victor Hart. They’re my family.”
“Even steal a man’s identity, his name, his good standing?”
“Please,” she retorted. “No harm has befallen your brother. What would you do if an immoral man was determined to possess your sister? What if you found Emma receiving the unwanted attentions of a man who valued her for nothing more than her virtue and her fortune? Tell me.” Her words echoed through the room when her voice rose in outrage.
She wouldn’t stop there until she’d put him on the offensive. “Since we’re being so honest, perhaps you’ll answer a question for me? Why didn’t you join the army or the church like other highborn sons of powerful peers? Why don’t you work?”
He laughed, but there was no bitterness in his tone. “A direct wound, my dear. Well done.” He matched her movement and leaned close to her. “I work on the estates.”
“The duchy?”
He nodded. “And McCalpin Manor.”
“Doing what may I ask?”
“Various things.” He took a sip of coffee. “But it’s really none of your business, is it?”
Once again, his gaze cut through hers as if challenging her to come at him again. She shook her head. Fighting with him served no purpose.
She schooled her features until she hoped she concealed her ire. “The monies I withdrew were mine. I should have had access to them months ago. However, you don’t care about that, and I can’t say that I blame you. If I were in your position, I’d feel the same way. But you must trust me when I say I’d never hurt your brother.”
“We shall see, March.” Before he could say another word, Emma and Daphne entered the room. He stood and waited while the two women took their seats beside March.
Emma’s gaze shot between the two of them. “Did we interrupt something?”
William sat in his chair and smiled as if nothing untoward had occurred between them. “Emma, you’re looking splendid today.” His gaze swept to Daphne, and the smile he presented would have lit every ballroom in London that night with its brightness. “Daphne, a vision as always.”
Emma studied her brother with narrowed eyes but must have decided not to pursue it. “March, darling, are you ready? I’d like to get this torture over with as quickly as we can.”
“Shopping?” William smiled wily. “Emma, you shock me.”
She shook her head, and her glorious blond curls bounced as if laughing with her. “March needs a new dress for Lady Carlisle’s ball. Daphne and I are helping her.”
He narrowed his gaze to March. “Another new dress?”
Emma scoffed. “What do you know about it?”
“Nothing, and that’s the problem,” he offered.
His sister stared at him with her emerald eyes blazing, but addressed March. “Did William tell you that you couldn’t have a new dress?”
“No, of course not.” He answered before March could respond. “We were having a lovely discussion before you joined us.”
“McCalpin doesn’t care if we get her a new wardrobe every week, so I’m perplexed why you should,” Emma retorted. Her cheeks had grown bright red.
Daphne watched the exchange between the siblings, then abruptly stood in front of Emma. “William, I don’t think Somerton would take kindly that you’re deliberately provoking his wife. Nor would McCalpin care for your attitude toward March.”
“Always the defender, eh, Daphne?” He stood and gracefully bowed. “My apologies. I have my work patiently waiting for me in the library. If you ladies will excuse me?” He didn’t wait for a reply as he strolled out of the room.
Things had gone from pleasant to quite nasty within the last half hour. March didn’t even want to go shopping now.