Haverford had located and pasted on his usual amused drawl, but Toad could hear the iron beneath. If his father did not kill him, Uncle Haverford still might. "I have found two intruders, Nick, and have not yet killed either, but the moment of truth approaches."
The Duke of Wellbridge appeared at the door, walking stick in hand, ready to do battle. Sally shifted to place herself between her friend and both fathers.
"Good God in heaven, what are you doing here, Abersham? You are supposed to be at Dalrymple House!" Taking in the two young peoples' state of dishabille, he sucked in a breath between his teeth. "And with Sal! Good God, man! Is this...? I cannot believe... Haverford?"
Haverford took a step toward Toad, crowding him, and bared his teeth in a growl until Toad stepped back. "I suppose you would prefer me not to disembowel your heir, Wellbridge?"
Sally had either decided the moment of imminent danger was over, or she was afraid her father was serious and could not be talked around, for she said nothing. Toad wished she would stick up for him again. He wished anyone would.
Wellbridge held out his walking stick between Haverford and Toad. "I had better hear the rest of the story before I decide how to answer that. Disemboweling might be just what he needs."
"Sarah assures me 'nothing happened.'" Haverford snorted. "You can see what sort of nothing for yourself."
"Indeed, I can. David George Northope, I am at the end of my rope with you!"
Toad fastened his cuff links, keeping his eyes on those, rather than his father's incisive stare.
"I will not marry him, Papa," Sally said, returning to the point that Wellbridge interrupted. She insinuated her hand into Toad's behind his back. He could tell by the trembling she was more frightened than she wished anyone to know. He rubbed his thumb against her palm.
Wellbridge pointed a finger at Sally. "You will marry him if we tell you to, young lady."
Toad gripped her hand tighter.
"I'll not ruin my best friend's life, Uncle Wellbridge. I will not."
"No, Wellbridge. I'll not force the issue," Haverford held up a hand, "nor allow the scandal free rein, if they agree to my terms."
"If?" Toad asked with an indignant sneer. "You would make on dits of your own daughter?"
"Shut up, Abersham," his father growled, "before I pin you down, so he can cut out your heart."
"If I agree not to force a marriage—" Haverford said, without the slightest acknowledgement Toad had spoken, "—and I can force a marriage. Do not doubt it. I can. If I have to take you to the altar gagged, Lady Sarah, you shall marry the pernicious weed, if I say so. If, instead, I agree to hush up your disgrace, there will be three conditions."
Sally paled, but her snarling query gave him no quarter. "What conditions?"
"Yes," Toad asked, "what conditions?" He rather hoped they would all be highly unacceptable and lead Sal to agree to marry him in the morning.
"First, your mother and your Aunt Bella need to know exactly what you have been up to, and they must agree a marriage is not needed. You know, Nick, they must have their say," he casually tossed over his shoulder to Wellbridge, "or we shall never hear the last of it."
Toad shrugged, attempting insouciance. He hadn't expected to be allowed to get by without his mother being told. But the smug look on his father's face told him he hadn't managed the required nonchalance. Sarah squeezed his hand in their age-old gesture of comfort. Both duchesses were going to give their errant offspring The Disappointed Look.
"Second," Haverford continued, recalling Toad's attention with the barest movement of his hand, "you do not come near my daughter again, Abersham. You do not even breathe the air of the same town as Sarah. If she is in London, you are not. If you are in Cambridge, she will never go there. She will not visit Wellstone, and you will not find your way to any of my homes."
Toad reflexively grabbed her hand tighter. "But—" He wasn't sure what he should argue. He must argue something, however. "Surely, such a drastic measure cannot be needed. I swear, on my honor, I would never disgrace Sally."
"You have no honor, Abersham, or you would not be here alone with my daughter, for the express purpose of disgracing her."
Toad looked away from Haverford's stare, and Sally's question came out in a pleading whine. "For how long, Papa?"
"As long as I say." Haverford looked over at Wellbridge and amended the statement. "Rather, for as long as both sets of parents say. I will not have this unfortunate friendship ruining Sarah's opportunity to form an attachment to a more suitable man."
A more suitable man? If Toad had any color left, that blanched the last of it. He forgot his audience—forgot everyone and everything but his dearest friend—and dropped to one knee, grasping her hand in both of his.
"Marry me, Sally. I beg you. Marry me. I cannot lose you."
Her hand convulsed in his, squeezing his fingers, but as she opened her mouth—he was sure to finally agree—Haverford cut her off.
"The choice is not hers, Abersham. It is mine." he said coldly, as he dragged Toad up off the floor and away from Sal. "And you will not come near her."
"I agree," his father said. "You are a danger to this sweet girl's chances."
"Third," Haverford resumed his list, holding on to Toad's forearm with a vice-like grip, jabbing his fingertip into Toad's chest as he continued, "If I find you have lied to me, and my daughter is with child, or if a servant has noticed this incursion and word gets out, the marriage goes ahead. And I will have no argument from either of you."
"I will marry her tomorrow," Toad objected. "I want to."
"The devil you will!" Wellbridge yelled, slamming his walking stick into the floor so hard it left a mark in the parquet. "You are not going to marry that girl and break her heart a million times."
"No, David," Sally whispered, her head bent at his shoulder. "You said yourself you are not ready to marry."
"But—"
"And..." She took a deep breath and held up a hand to stop him speaking. "Neither am I. If we wed now, we shall always regret our..." she looked past him to the bed and blushed. "Go and finish your degree, my dear," she said, laying her hand against his cheek, looking into his desperate eyes with a depth of sadness he never wished to see again. "And you shall always be my very dearest friend."
"Dearest friend? No, Sal, You mustn't—"
"Nick," Haverford said to Wellbridge, pulling Toad further from Sal and pushing him closer to his father, even as he dug in his heels, "I suggest you put Abersham in your coach with his mother to face the music. Sarah, I assume you can find your way back the way you came without being seen?"
Seemingly chastened, Sal ducked her head without even looking Toad's way and said, "Yes, Papa."
"I shall expect you in the drawing room in thirty minutes, suitably attired for the schoolroom child you still are." The heat of his glare slid away from Toad to burn Sal. "And if you do not wish to be married, my lady, I suggest you take considerable care not to remind me you are quite old enough to be wed."
Toad yanked his arm away from Haverford and strode across the room to her. Touching her cheek, gazing into her troubled face, he murmured, "I will write."
"I will, too; every day," Sal promised.
"You will not," said Haverford, striding after him. "Neither of you. The idea!"
Toad raised one brow, hoping Sal would take the clue that he would write, whether or not Uncle Haverford allowed his letters to make it to her. "And you mustn't marry a prig or a dandy. Only a man worthy of you."
Sally smiled, one tear trembling on her lashes. "I promise, David."
"His name is Lord Abersham!" Haverford yelled, but Sally ignored his ire once again, yelling back at him, "If you do not let me write, I will do it anyway." She turned on her father just as he reached out to pull Toad away again, her own temper flashing, "We have been friends since the day I was born, Papa, and yesterday you saw nothing wrong in it. You franked my letters yourself until the new penny post. And I assure you, Papa, I have plenty of my own pennies to buy stamps."
Haverford frowned forbiddingly. "We shall see about that."
Nick, meanwhile, grabbed his son by the back of his shirt and frog-marched him out the door. "You will not write to her and ruin her prospects. You will leave her alone to get on with her life. Haverford, you will forgive me if I decline the port you offered, so I might take this miscreant back home and lock him in a broom cupboard until I can send him away."