CHAPTER TEN
He woke early with Jemma still in his arms. She still slept heavily, so he kissed her hair and eased from the bed, leaving her sleeping. Washing, he dressed quickly and left the room.
“I thought you may need my company.”
Phillip was waiting for him when he reached the front entrance of Harrington House.
“Egad, is this an apparition that I see before me,” Harry drawled, eyeing his brother’s neatly dressed form. “My brother awake before noon.”
“It will happen only this one time.” Phillip yawned.
“In truth, I will be pleased of your company because I may need someone to stop me murdering Crickley.”
“Hence the reason I stand here before you at such a ridiculous hour, Harry.”
They traveled by carriage, simply because Phillip could not stomach riding his horse before he’d eaten his morning meal, and arrived at Lord Crickley’s house at least with the appearance of composure.
The butler opened the door to Harry’s fist pounding on the wood.
“I wish to see both Lord Crickley and Lord Partridge.”
“But they are abed, Lord Harrington.” The servant looked aghast.
“Then I suggest you wake them before I do.”
The man scurried away after showing them into a parlor.
“Try not to break any bones, or do something that will have you brought up on charges, Harry.”
“I will promise nothing.”
His anger simmered as he remembered how Jemma had suffered at the hands of the men he was about to confront, especially Crickley. They waited for thirty minutes before Lord Partridge appeared. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked as if he had not slept much last night.
“Lord Harrington, why have you summoned me from my bed?”
“Because last night your daughter and wife fled to my house because Lord Crickley attempted to rape Jemma.”
The man staggered back a step.
“You,” Harry said, stalking forward, finger pointed at Jemma’s father, “are responsible for this. You cheated at cards and Crickley caught you, and marrying Jemma was to silence him.”
“I-I have no idea what you speak of.” Lord Partridge looked from Phillip to Harry and back again.
“I know everything, and you should be ashamed of your behavior. To treat your daughter in such a way is beyond contempt. But know this, Partridge. The betrothal will be broken and she will be marrying me.”
“No!”
“Yes, and when Lord Crickley walks through that door, you will support me when I tell him so.”
“B-but my reputation!”
“I would send you to hell were it not for your wife and daughter, sir. You deserve nothing more. But I will save your precious reputation if only for them, and then if I hear you have cheated again, you will not like the consequences.”
“What is the meaning of this, Harrington?”
Harry tore his eyes from Jemma’s father as Crickley stalked into the room.
“How dare you arrive at my house at such an hour uninvited!”
Crickley too looked as though he had not had much sleep. Dark smudges circled his eyes, and he looked pale.
“How dare I!” Harry thundered, seeing red as he thought of what Jemma had endured at this man’s hand. “You bloody bastard, how dare you attempt to rape Miss Partridge!”
He crossed the room and grabbed him, shaking him hard, then planted his fist in his face, sending him backward into the door.
“That will do, Harry.” He heard his brother’s words and then felt Phillip’s fingers grip his arm. “No good will come of killing him.”
“I want to.”
“Yet you will solve nothing by doing so.”
He made himself turn away and inhale deeply. When he turned back, Crickley had staggered back to his feet.
“The betrothal is off, and Jemma Partridge will be marrying me, Crickley. If I hear you have spread slanderous stories about her family to anyone, then I will take it as a personal slight and seek retribution.”
“How dare you strike me!” Crickley attempted to glare at Harry.
“You’re lucky my brother is here, or I would have done so again and again,” Harry growled.
“You will pay for this.” Crickley looked at Harry then Lord Partridge, who had slumped into a chair. “All of you.”
“Crickley, I had an enlightening conversation with some men from the village of Cartleigh. It seems you have been abusing young girls and fleecing men of their money. Now if you wish for me to delve deeper into this matter, then go right ahead and spread your vile rumors, because you can be assured that when I have finished it will not be Jemma and her mother who are forced into hiding.”
Crickley stumbled back to rest on the wall as color leeched from his cheeks.
“You would not dare!”
“I dare, and will take great delight in ruining you if you utter one damning word about the Partridge family.”
“Have the wench then, I want nothing from her or her family.”
“So glad you could see things my way,” Harry said, nodding to his brother to follow as he prepared to leave the room. “I will handle the details regarding the broken betrothal, and suggest you leave the area for some time. Because next time I see you, my brother may not be there to stop me from killing you.”
They left the house and climbed into the carriage. Minutes later, they were heading back to Harrington House.
“It is times like that I am pleased you are my brother and not my enemy, Harry.”
He found a smile, and it grew as he realized that Jemma was finally his. His Hero would become his wife.
“That smile is far too wide for such an hour. I beg you to tone it down.”
“It’s called love, brother, and I highly recommend it.”
On Christmas morning Jemma woke once again pressed to Harry’s warm side. He stirred beside her, his arms instinctively wrapping around her body to pull her close.
“Merry Christmas, my sweet Hero.”
“Merry Christmas, Leander.”
She giggled as he grabbed her and tumbled her beneath him to kiss her thoroughly. Cupping his face, she looked up into his sleepy eyes.
“Is it possible to be so happy, Harry?”
“Yes, and this is only the beginning, love.”
As he made slow, sweet love to her, Jemma knew that there would be children in their future, love, and happiness. She closed her eyes and gave herself to the man who would bring her all those things and so much more.
THE END