“Why would I agree to such a
farce?”
Right. “Because I am the father of
her child,” Percy said.
Throckmorton jerked to his feet.
His chair crashed backwards onto the
floor. “I’ve challenged other men for
less,” he vowed.
“Stanton is telling the truth, Byron.
He’s one of my men. And were it not for
him, Constance would be dead.”
“One of your men?” he spat. “
You
are Captain Sexton?” He turned to
Simon. “The man is Blendingham’s
firstborn. Impossible!”
“The particulars are well-guarded.
All you need to know is Stanton’s gone
to great lengths to serve England and
bring honor to his family. We cannot
endanger his name or discredit him. Nor
can we deny him his child.”
The duke turned to face him, his
eyes laced with suspicion. “You want to
marry Constance?”
Percy straightened his shoulders.
“She is a good woman, Your Grace, and
would never bring disgrace upon you
willingly. You should also know she
was on board the
Oct avi a
on your
behalf. If I hadn’t been aboard Frink’s
ship when she was captured, I hesitate to
think where she’d be now.”
Throckmorton fisted his hands. That
he wanted to box him was obvious. He
stepped forward, but then hesitated.
Apparently, he had more control than a
man ought to have. Seeing the duke pale,
Simon urged his brother to sit down.
“Percy saved her life, Byron. He
put his life and the lives of his men in
jeopardy to do so, scrapping his
mission. If anyone deserves Constance,
it’s the man who gave up everything for
her.”
Throckmorton frowned. “That may
be as you say, but that doesn’t change the
fact that Stanton defiled my daughter. If I
did what my instincts urged me to do,”
he said, face distorting, “Constance’s
child would not have a father.”
Simon waved his hands. “Hold,
brother. I make no excuses for Stanton’s
conduct aboard the Striker, but that does
not change the fact that Constance needs
a husband and you need a prosperous
donor for your creditors.”
Throckmorton slammed his fist on
his desk. “Even if what you say is true,”
he groaned unpleasantly, “it’s too late. I
have given my word to another and no
matter how much it pains me, my word
is my bond.”
“You still plan to wed her to
Burton? I was present when Constance
told you what that man is capable of,”
Simon explained.
Byron leaned back in his chair,
shook his head, and tented his hands.
“There will be repercussions if I break
my word. Burton will not let go of this
willingly. I know the man. There is no
telling what he might do or say to avenge
such a slight.”
“Let me handle Burton,” Percy
argued.
“My family’s reputation rides upon
what is decided about Constance,
Stanton. And upon the unscrupulous pact
I’ve made with the man. Do not think that
doesn’t wear on me.”
“If I may, Your Grace,” Percy
interrupted.
“I’ve
done
some
investigating, which might ease your
decision. Burton offers you thirty
thousand pounds in exchange for
Constance’s betrothal. Am I correct?”
“Yes,”
Throckmorton
solemnly
agreed. “But I’m at a loss as to how
you’ve attained that information.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but
Constance’s future is paramount. I will
do whatever it takes to ensure her
safety.”
Throckmorton exchanged a glance
with Simon. “Listen to what he has to
say, Byron.”
“Continue,” the duke acquiesced.
“Isn’t that the exact amount you and
Simon lost in recent financial dealings?”
Both Simon and the duke nodded
affirmatively. “Then I humbly suggest
that Burton has been the one secretly
draining your funds in order to obtain
control of Constance and rights to her
estate. For whatever reason, it’s clear
she will not have him otherwise.”
“You’re certain of this?”
Percy paced from one bookcase to
the next, his fingers interlocked behind
his back. No. But Baroness Chauncey
could get him the facts.
“My men have followed him on
several occasions. I have it on good
authority he is not well-liked among the
ton. From your expression, it’s obvious,
Your Grace, you disdain him as well.”
“Be that as it may, I would be a
fool to enrage the man. I would be
putting Constance’s life at risk and, I
might add, the life of my grandchild.”
Percy
halted
in
front
of
Throckmorton’s desk. “Constance will
only be safe with me. To believe
otherwise would most certainly invite
disaster.”
“Is this some ploy to milk my
family for your own gain? Blendingham
was a good man, but I’d be a fool to trust
you,
Stanton,
after
what
you’ve
admitted.”
“Would you have me act a
popinjay, embarrass myself and my
family for personal gain? There is only
one reason I live the way I do, and that
is to keep my activities secret so that I
may come and go whenever Simon needs
me. Are these the actions of an
untrustworthy man? Would I reveal
myself to you, if I were not willing to do
everything in my power to keep
Constance
safe?
And
are
you
comfortable marrying Constance to a
man who would abuse her, rather than a
man who would put his own life, and the
lives of others, on the line to ensure her
safety? I implore you to do what is best
for your daughter, Your Grace.”
“I
am
not
convinced.”
Throckmorton’s eyes took on a bitter
gleam.
Simon peered from Percy to the
duke. “Marriage to Percy includes a
dukedom, a vast inheritance, financial
security, and the promise of happiness
for Constance and her children. For what
it’s worth, Percy offered his own money
to fund our missions, but I talked him out
of it.”
“Perhaps you should have listened
to him, brother.”
“I regret nothing,” Simon admitted.
“I’ve done no wrong.”
“So, what would you have me do?”
Throckmorton asked. “I stand to lose
more than I can bear. I will not allow
Constance to suffer on my account.”
Percy understood. “In order to
preempt any agreement you’ve made
with Burton, I suggest an announcement
be made posthaste.”
Percy
strode
to
the
door.
Throckmorton had not agreed, yet he
knew what the man would do. Love had
a terrible way of tilting the scales. And
at this particular moment, he was
thankful for the theatrics he’d adapted as
second nature. His hand hesitated on the
knob when Simon’s words stopped him
in his tracks.
“Only you can make things right,
Stanton.”
“That has always been my goal,” he
replied. He was not worthy of
Throckmorton or Simon’s trust or, least
of all, Constance’s affections. But he
was reliable.
“Make
it
so,”
Throckmorton
demanded.
Percy nodded, hesitating only a
moment before slipping out into the
hallway as quietly as he’d entered the
room.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Dancers laughed gaily beneath gilded
candelabras as they circumnavigated the
polished floor, stomping a staccato beat
to the lilting strains of the four-man
orchestra. Constance tapped her silk-
slippered pointed toe, eager to join in
the merriment. Flanked by Winifred and
Eleanor, who giggled behind wafting
fans, she listened half-heartedly as they
discussed the merits of eligible men
present. In the forefront of her mind, one
thought held sway: staying far away from
the man who could potentially ruin her
life. Lord Burton.
“Billings is quite extraordinary, is
he not?”
“Honestly, Winifred. The man is
twice your age. Surely you would be
better suited to Todd. He’s young,
pleasant in demeanor, and most of all, he
gazes longingly at you when you are not
aware,” Eleanor boasted.
“Mr. Todd has not made his
intentions known. Billings, however, has
been quite amiable. Perhaps Mr. Todd
could learn a thing or two from him.”
Constance settled her gaze upon
Billings. Small, with a rodent’s posture,
he was a most disagreeable choice. She
frowned. Her friend could do better.
“You should give Todd your
attention, Winifred,” Constance said.
Her friend fanned herself rapidly as the
man in question spun a beautiful brunette
across the dance floor. “Todd would be
most agreeable to a woman who can
choose her own destiny.”
“How so?” Winnie asked.
“For one thing, dearest,” Constance
said, locking gazes with Winifred, “he
only has eyes for you.”
“You could have fooled me,” her
friend spat, examining the twirling
dancers. “I don’t believe the man’s
spoken two words to me.”
“Have you given him reason to
believe you’d receive him?” Eleanor
prodded.
Winifred
snapped
her
fan.
“Heavens no!”
“You must hint at your affections,
Winnie. Else you’ll lose Todd to Justine
Ludd,” Constance said. “Watch the way
she bats her eyes at him. It’s shameful.”
Constance observed the seductive
curve of Justine’s arm, her body angled
at Todd in such a way to heighten the
effect of her half-lidded, wanton gaze.
Intent on figuring out a way to nullify the
woman’s display, she barely noticed
Burton angrily pushing his way into the
throng.
“Fans,” Eleanor signaled. “Burton
must not pluck our bud from the vine.”
Bud? Why did the comparison
remind Constance of Thomas?
Leave the
wilted blossom be.
Suddenly she knew.
While she had been instructing Winnie
on how to encourage Todd’s affections
and chose her own destiny, secretly
she’d longed for the same choices. Now
she was eager to be rescued from the
ball. What better man to initiate such a
feat than Thomas Sexton, the rogue
capable of reducing Burton to tears?
Burton drew closer. Trying to hide
her alarm, she sighted Guffald staring at
her forlornly. Though handsome, worthy
of any woman’s love and affection, he
did not appeal any more than Burton.
Part of her ached for the uniformed man
and eagerly wished she could accept
what he offered. Guilt, unnecessary to be
sure, but heartfelt, stabbed her heart
anew. What she wouldn’t give to be able
to choose a husband among the eligible
men present like her friends. Instead,
hers would not be a love match. She was
destined to live in horror with a man she
feared.
“There you are.” Stanton’s words
shocked her out of her doldrums. She
pushed aside her friend’s fluttering fans
and gazed up into the man’s hospitable
eyes.
“Were you trying to hide from me,
my gel?” he prodded. His eyes were
sharp, piercingly mocking.
“Lord Stanton,” she breathlessly
supplied. “I would never dream of
giving you such a slight.”
Winifred and Eleanor curtsied,
gave their excuses, and quickly scurried
away.
“Odd’s fish. What have I done to
frighten away your friends?” he asked,
his quizzing glass balanced upon his
nose as he observed their hasty
departure with feigned upset.
Constance grinned. “No, my Lord.
You happened upon a private moment
between friends, that is all.”
He tucked her gloved hand within
the crook of his arm, intent on leading
her to the other end of the room. Upon