The Lord and his Lady (Forbidden #2)

Chapter Thirty Two

"If I may speak," cut in the darker-skinned woman. All heads, save for one girl, swivelled to give her full attention. "She seems regretful of her choice, my lord. I doubt your sister meant to deceive you or the reputation of your name. She is young, and with youth comes mistakes. If that was not true, do you not think they would have run away instead? By staying, the risk of being found out increased greatly for them, but provided less humiliation for you."

"So what is it that you suggest?" the man mocked. "That I get my friend married to my sister?"

"You must ask your sister of what it is she wants."

"Is that what you want?" he demanded, glaring at his sister who only wordlessly nodded, cowering under her brother's steel gaze.

Richard cleared his throat. "Once she comes-out into the Season, we may have her dance with a few suitors but with a focus on Devonport. We can paint a picture that they have formed an early attachment so once news of a proposal arises, no one will question the sincerity or the nature of such a wedding and no reputation will be harmed."

"Only a few of us know, Lord Weston," said Miss Price, "and if you are willing, we will keep it as quiet as we can."

Richard clasped his hands behind his back, nodding. They had a year's time before Lady Harriet would be introduced into the marriage mart. If they played their cards right, it could work in their favour.

Weston seemed to contemplate this as well, foot tapping the wood in a rhythmic tap tap tap but only for a moment. "Impossible that I must even consider this," he muttered. "I will never let that fiend become my brother-in-law, friend or not, not after this betrayal. He could have come to me, like a proper gentleman, to ask to court her. Why did he sneak around like a damned child?"

"Perhaps because you are a cold, unrelenting coot," snapped Miss Cavendish for the first time since being pushed away to the side. "You do not care to listen to others or see them for who and what they are, but for what you would like them to be. Your friend may not have been the perfect vision you had for him, but that is scarcely the case in reality; had you ever asked him or your sister about how they feel? Or were you too busy pursuing your own selfish interests with Miss Prescott and mocking the appearances of others that you forgot about the basics of maintaining relationships?"

Weston, surprisingly, stood too shunned to speak. No lady would ever speak in a manner thus, and that was enough to shake him.

Richard sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in assurance. "There can be no gain in going over old ground. What we need to know is how we are going to move forward with this. Rationally," he added, giving Weston a pointed look when he opened his mouth to interrupt.

A rapid succession of knocks behind them caused them to still. Lady Blackwood stood at the door, pale. "What is with the yelling?" she asked. "I can hear it all the way in the back garden!"

Richard watched his friend carefully. His Adam's apple bobbed as he forced a strained smile at his mother. "Nothing, Mama. Caldwell and I do not see eye-to-eye on a certain issue. It will be dealt with accordingly."

Lady Blackwood peered at her daughter. "And Harriet?" she whispered. "Darling, what is the matter? You look so sickly."

"I am tired, mama," came the choked voice. "Please, I wish to be left alone."

"There is nothing out of the ordinary, Lady Blackwood," said Richard, offering a deep bow and a charming grin. "We were sharing tales of an ever dramatic Weston. You know how he tends to be when his faults are brought to light."

Weston scowled, but nodded for the sake of it. His mother visibly relaxed, though she did cast another worried glance at the women on the bed behind the two men.