A Matter of Choice (10 page)

“I met with your brother earlier this morning and he informed me you will turn twenty-five the middle of next week. To avoid any concern over your inheritance, we should marry no later than Saturday. If that is agreeable with you.”

Allison tried to speak but she couldn’t find her voice. That was only a few days away. She wanted to hug her arms around her middle like she used to do when she was little and afraid, or run away and hide in a dark closet. But those were no longer choices. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

“We’ll spend our wedding night at my townhouse in London, then leave the following morning for Graystone Manor. You should at least see what your dowry has saved.”

“You mean what is so important that you sacrificed your freedom to save.” She knew her barbed words struck a tender spot. The slight hitch in his breath told her so.

To be on the offensive was better than thinking of her wedding night. The very thought of sharing a bed with him sent a wave of trepidation racing through her. She averted her gaze, unable to look at him. The sound of horse’s hooves thundered behind them and she turned.

She barely got a glimpse of a horse and rider racing toward them before Montfort pulled her off the path and stepped in front of her as if she needed protection.

He pulled her close to him as the Earl of Archbite brought his horse to a stop and jumped to the ground. His eyes held a wild look that matched the violent expression of rage. Allison had never seen Percy look so furious.

Montfort’s arm snaked around her, his action both protective and possessive. The touch of ownership was not lost on Archbite. He crossed the distance between them in long, angry strides.

“Tell me it isn’t so!” he bellowed loudly enough for everyone to hear him. “Tell me you are not going to marry this philanderer.”

Montfort tightened his grip and Allison felt the muscles that held her coil like bands of steel.

“That’s enough, Archbite.” Montfort lifted his shoulders in battle readiness.

Percy paid no mind.

A wave of fear raced through her and she made what she knew would be a futile attempt to calm the situation. “Lord Archbite. I should have explained—“

“Just tell me it isn’t so!”

A small crowd gathered in the distance, but neither of the men seemed to notice. Or care. Montfort held her around her waist and tried to move her. “Lady Allison. Step back.”

Allison shook her head and held firm. She was desperate to find some way to stop tempers from flying. But the open look of hatred in Percy’s eyes told her any effort would be wasted. “Please—“.

“I thought we had an understanding. I thought you knew how I felt and that you felt the same.”

Percy took a threatening step closer.

“I’m sorry—“ She stopped, unable to find the words to finish.

“That’s enough.” Montfort held out his arm as a barrier to stop Percy from coming closer. “The lady has nothing for which to apologize.”

Percy ignored Montfort’s warning and took another step toward them.

She swallowed a gasp. Without warning, the situation escalated to a dangerous point. Every muscle in Montfort’s body bristled with unbridled fury. He transformed before her eyes into an ominous warrior Percy would be wise to avoid.

He didn’t.

“What did he do to you?” Percy said, waving his hand in the air. “What hold does he have on you? Tell me and I’ll do everything in my power to save you from him.”

She shook her head, trying to escape Percy’s accusations. “He has no hold.”

“Surely it isn’t because you want to be a duchess?”

“No! You know better than that.”

“Then why! You know his reputation. He is a rake of the worst kind. You would never agree to marry him if you were not forced. I know you would not.” He paused as if struck by an eye-opening thought. “It is your dowry, isn’t it? You are being forced to marry him because of your dowry!”

“Enough!” Montfort bellowed again.

The earl laughed, the sound a vile, cynical cackle. “He does not want you, my lady. He only wants the money that will come with you. Can’t you see that?”

Her eyes stung with mortifying dampness and her cheeks blazed with heat. If the marquess had not had his arm around her waist, her legs would have given out from beneath her. “You are mistaken, my lord.”

“No, it is you who are mistaken. He has you under his spell, just as he does every female. He will only use you then discard you in the end.”

Montfort tensed like a stretched bow, ready to fire. She placed her hand atop his to keep him from striking.

“If you are wise, Archbite,” he said through clenched teeth, “you will leave before I do something you will most assuredly regret.” His voice was soft, but not gentle by any means. It shattered around them like the deadly hiss of a striking cobra.

“No! We had an understanding!”

“Leave. Now.”

Montfort clasped his fingers beneath her elbow to escort her away but she held firm. She couldn’t let it end like this. She had to set things right. She was the one to blame. She
had
led Percy to believe that she would consider his offer of marriage, if only he was patient. If only he gave her time. But David had given her no choice.

She should have talked to Percy before. Made him understand. But she’d been so consumed by her own fears, she hadn’t even considered Lord Archbite’s feelings.

“It’s too late, my lord,” she said, taking a step toward Percy. Montfort stepped with her. “The decision is already made.”

“Surely you don’t mean to marry him?”

“I do.”

“No!”

Without warning, Percy lunged toward Montfort.

Montfort turned her away to push her behind him, but the time he used to protect her gave Percy the advantage he needed. Before Montfort could right himself, Percy’s fist connected with his jaw, hitting his chin with a bone cracking jolt that jerked his head to the side.

“No!”

She stepped between them and grasped her fingers around Montfort’s upper arms to hold him back. He was the one she knew could do the most damage. He was the biggest threat. “Please,” she whispered, not caring that she had tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please,” she whispered again. She lifted her gaze to his. “The fault is mine.”

His nostrils flared with fury, his lips pressed so tightly they were white. His breaths came in harsh, ragged jerks. She knew that only the thinnest thread held his rage from exploding. “Please, leave it be,” she pleaded. “Everyone is watching.”

He stared at her for long, tension-filled moments, the fury that raged inside him evident to her. His muscles bunched beneath her hands and she knew how desperately he wanted to hurt the Earl of Archbite. Knew how deeply Percy’s words had cut.

“Please…”

She sensed the moment he capitulated, the moment he gave in to her. He breathed in deeply, then released the air in an agonizing whoosh.
His gaze lifted from her face to Archbite’s, where hatred and bitterness hung between them like a heavy fog. Without a word, the marquess grasped her arm and turned her toward the waiting carriage.

Just when she thought the scene was over, Percy stepped in front of them, barring their exit. “We will settle this tomorrow morning. In the meadow behind Miller’s pond.”

The marquess nodded. “As you wish. The Marquess of Chardwell will act as my second. Your man can reach him at his townhouse.”

Allison let Montfort lead her to their carriage and hand her in. In one swift move, he climbed the step and sat down beside her. The carriage lurched forward but he did not look back. He kept his gaze focused straight ahead while they moved toward the park’s nearest exit.

“What did Lord Archbite mean when he said you’d settle this in the morning?“

“Nothing.”

Allison sat back in the seat, trying to calm her roiling stomach. And then she knew. Her hands flew to her mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to escape. “No! You’re going to duel tomorrow. You can’t!”

“Why not, my lady? You don’t think you’re worth fighting over?” His voice was calm and steady, but he avoided her gaze.

“No! I’m not worth the death of either one of you.”

“I was not the one who issued the challenge.”

“Then be the one to ignore it.”

“I already ignored Archbite’s first challenge because you asked me to. You have no idea what that cost me.”

She stared at him a long moment, remembering how she’d pleaded with him not to fight Percy. “Don’t go. Just stay away.”

His brows arched high. “And be known as a coward as well as a philanderer?”

“It is better to be a living coward than a dead fool.”

“Are you sure, my lady? Are you sure you could be content with a coward for a husband? Perhaps it isn’t me you’re concerned with. But Lord Archbite? Perhaps you are more afraid some danger might befall him?”

For the third time since she’d met him, she wanted to slap him. Her hand lifted of its own volition, but as quickly as she moved, his arm reached out to stop her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist in a deadly grip.

“I’ve been attacked enough today. I don’t need you added to the long list of enemies who want to do me harm.”

“Please—“

“Quiet.” His voice was not loud as much as the tone was deadly. “Spend your time preparing for your wedding, my lady. I know you will not wish to do overly much to celebrate the event, but I imagine you will at least want to drape the windows in black. You will hear soon enough if Archbite’s bullet hits its mark and you have real cause to celebrate.”

She felt as if he’d buried a knife deep inside her. “I don’t wish to see you harmed.”

He looked at her and smiled, but it was not a smile of happiness. Far from it.

+++

How the hell had he gotten to this point?

Joshua stepped into the carriage after escorting Allison home and sank against the cushion. In less than two weeks’ time he’d gone from being a carefree bachelor who had an allowance that covered his earthly needs and a mistress who saw to the more important essentials to...this!

Bloody hell!

The battle to fight his father’s hatred was ending in defeat!

He’d narrowly escaped losing his beloved Graystone!

Nights spent with his long-time mistress were a thing of the past!

The woman he’d asked to marry him didn’t want him as her husband!

There was a good chance he wouldn’t survive the duel he was fighting in the morning!

And he only had a few days more of freedom left and he’d be leg-shackled forever!

If
he lived that long. If dear Percy, Lord Archbite, didn’t put a bullet through his heart and kill him!

He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, couldn’t believe he was taking a wife. Couldn’t believe he’d actually signed an agreement that he’d never seek his pleasures in any bed other than his wife’s. Couldn’t believe he was fighting a duel. But what choice did he have?

He’d do anything to save Graystone, agree to anything to keep from losing it.

He closed his eyes and fisted his hands at his side while he considered the most important question he was unable to answer. Why did his father hate him so much he’d gamble away everything rather than allow him to inherit it?

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find an answer that made sense. Now, Joshua was forced to do everything in his power to save the Ashbury holding, especially Graystone—unless, of course, Archbite killed him in the morning. Then it wouldn’t matter if he lost it all.

He wanted to blame Allison for everything that had happened. She had, after all, demanded that he give up his former way of life. But he couldn’t blame her for that. She was as much a victim as he. She didn’t want to marry any more than he did.

Yet, what choice did either of them have?

Joshua dismounted when he reached his townhouse and climbed the stairs. He had to get a good night’s sleep so he’d be alert enough in the morning to dodge Archbite’s bullet.

Or prepared enough to meet his Maker.

She had to stop them
before it was too late.

Allison stared out the carriage window as it made its way to the small body of water known as Miller’s Pond. It wasn’t dawn yet, but it wouldn’t be long and the sun would begin its ascent over the horizon.

In her mind, she heard shots, saw blood, and felt the pain as if it were her own. Montfort could die, and it would be her fault. She knew if that happened, her world would never be the same.

Her head throbbed from worry and lack of sleep, and her throat felt thick with panic. She clutched her arms around her middle and rocked back and forth in the plush leather seat of David’s carriage, praying the driver would make the horses go faster. What if she didn’t get there in time?

“Hurry, Benson,” she yelled at the groomsman she’d
roused from bed before first light. Although at first he’d been reluctant to drive her halfway across town unescorted, she’d given him no choice.
Now, she was afraid all her efforts had been for naught. What if she was too late?