by Cheryl Holt
His relationship had been revealed? He’d been exposed? What? What?
He couldn’t figure out how he’d cocked this up, and his immediate impulse was to deny and deny and deny.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he firmly stated.
“Really?” Nathan snorted, then he strolled over and sat behind the desk again. “I must confess, at first I didn’t believe it. I mean, it’s not as if you’ve ever had sufficient income for it.”
“You’re being absurd,” Percy said, “and whatever you were told, it’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? I could hire an investigator to tag after you. Is that what you’d like me to do? Or could we cut to the chase? Will you admit your antics so I can get to the point?”
“There’s naught to admit.”
“I’m actually very impressed by this. I’m sure your mother would be livid over such sordid conduct, so I’m amazed that you’d dare to perpetrate it. Haven’t you been worried she’d find out? It must be a terrible secret for you to carry around.”
Nathan’s glib attitude was so infuriating that Percy yearned to leap over the desk and slap him silly.
“You don’t know anything about my life,” he seethed.
“Obviously not,” Nathan agreed.
“And I won’t be scolded by you. I put up with too much admonishment from Mother.”
He rose to his feet and marched out, and in his mind, he supposed he appeared quite dramatic, quite aggrieved.
“Percy!” Nathan called. “We’re not finished. Get your ass back here.”
Percy squared his shoulders and kept on. No warning sounded behind him, no angry footsteps approached, but suddenly, Nathan seized him by the throat, his attack as abrupt and alarming as a lion’s.
He tightened his grip, as Percy pried at his fingers and struggled to breathe. Nathan was strong as an ox and incensed as a rampaging bull. Why was he so strong? Wasn’t he gaunt and ill? How had he recovered so much of his stamina?
He dragged Percy to his chair, using just the hand on Percy’s throat as leverage. He flung Percy down, then stomped around the desk. He sat again, and though his color was high, he looked completely composed. How did he manage that?
Percy was so enraged he was about to burst into tears. Wasn’t it enough that he’d ruined his life by marrying Pamela when he was young and stupid? Wasn’t it enough that he was juggling so much anxiety and pressure? Must he be bullied by his cousin too?
“I’ll make this short and sweet,” Nathan said, then without preamble, he announced, “Susan has learned of your peccadillo—and your two children.”
If Percy had been standing up, he’d have collapsed to the floor in a stunned heap. “What did you say?”
“Even as we speak, Mr. Middleton is on his way to Selby to deal with the debacle.”
“He’s coming here? Why?”
“Pay attention, Percy. His daughter has found out that you are an unrepentant philanderer and liar. She doesn’t want to wed you, and he’s racing to Selby to convince her to go through with it.”
If Nathan had pulled out a knife and stabbed Percy in the heart, he couldn’t have been more shocked. If he didn’t obtain Susan’s dowry, he couldn’t predict how he might react. He’d promised Pamela a house of her own, servants, more space. If he didn’t ultimately provide all of it, how would he explain it to her?
He’d been bragging for weeks about his fake trust fund that was about to vest, and she was constantly tittering over how it would change their situation for the better. What if she blamed Edwina for his not receiving it? Pamela was the type who might decide to confront his mother once and for all. What if his prior marriage to her was exposed?
Bigamy was a shameful crime! The perpetrators went to prison!
“Oh, my Lord,” he muttered over and over.
“Now that we have the information out on the table,” Nathan blithely said, “will you persist with your denials?”
“Who told you about this?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes! Who tattled?”
“From your question, I’m guessing the rumor is true, so how should we proceed? I have no idea when Mr. Middleton will arrive, but he’ll demand to speak with me. And you,” Nathan added like a threat.
“But…but…why would I have to participate? What could I possibly tell him?”
“I can’t imagine. It’s beyond me how you’ll weasel your way out of this quagmire, but please understand that I greatly resent being pitched into the middle of it. Is your mother aware of this?”
“No!” Percy groaned with frustration. “And we’re not about to apprise her either.”
“I don’t see how you’ll be able to keep it from her.”
“I can’t lose Susan’s dowry!”
“I realize you were counting on it, but I’m awfully afraid you might.”
They were the most terrifying words ever uttered in Percy’s presence. He blanched as if Nathan had struck him.
“I…I…should chat with Susan,” he stammered. “I can calm her down.”
“I don’t know her all that well, but I’m betting she has no desire to talk to you. She intends to have her father do the talking.”
“They can’t renege! The contracts are signed, and I need that money!”
Nathan shrugged. “It’s not the Middle Ages. No one can force her.”
“Her father could,” Percy said.
“Why would he want to?”
“They’re desperate to ally themselves with our family!” Percy insisted. “We should confer with her mother. Mrs. Middleton is so eager for the match that she practically drools every time she lays eyes on me. She won’t be too quick to let her daughter make such a huge mistake.”
Nathan sighed with exasperation. “You’re in a pickle, Cousin, and I can’t rescue you from it. It’s clear you don’t grasp the danger that’s approaching. I’m not sure you can ward it off.”
Then the worst thing happened. The door opened, and his mother entered the room. She didn’t knock, didn’t request permission. She simply barged in.
“I’m delighted to catch you two together,” she said. “We have to discuss the wedding.”
Percy glared at Nathan, visually beseeching him to send her packing, but Nathan never behaved as a person hoped. He gestured for Edwina to join them.
“Hello, Aunt. You probably ought to sit down. I have several issues to address with you, but we’ll start with Percy’s problem.”
“What problem could Percy be having?” She’d failed to note the tension between Percy and Nathan. She waltzed over and seated herself, then she continued on with her own topic. “Nathan, I’ve previously mentioned this to you, but I need your vow that you’ll attend the ceremony and that you’ll be Percy’s best man.”
Nathan gaped at Percy and said, “Will you tell her or shall I?”
“May I be excused?” was the sole reply Percy could muster.
“No, you may not.” Nathan turned to Edwina. “I doubt Percy is getting married this weekend.”
Edwina scowled. “Of course he is, and you’re babbling in riddles. What are you trying to say?”
“The bride has learned a disturbing fact about the groom. She’s planning to cry off—unless her father shows up and can dissuade her.”
“What bride and groom?” Edwina’s scowl deepened. “Susan and Percy? What could she have discovered that would upset her? Percy has always been a perfect gentleman to her. She has no cause for complaint. Neither does her father.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m certain he’s been a model of decorum, but unfortunately, this involves a third party, and Susan is justifiably livid about it.”
“Nathan, please!” Percy begged to no avail as his mother said, “What do you mean by a third party, Nathan? I’m busy today. Explain yourself so I don’t have to puzzle it out.”
“Percy has a mistress.”
Edwina took the declaration quite well. Her cheeks heated, b
ut she didn’t screech with offense. “It’s common among men of our class, and he’s twenty-six. As his mother, I don’t believe it’s my place to have an opinion about it.”
“He has two daughters with her,” Nathan blurted out, “so evidently, he’s been dallying with her for years. With there being children in the mix, the relationship must be a serious one. Susan definitely assumes that it is, and she wants no part of a marriage where the husband is devoted to another.”
The news fell into the room like a boulder. It grew eerily silent. Clocks ceased ticking. The Earth seemed to have stopped spinning on its axis.
“Susan has found out?” his mother tightly inquired.
“Yes,” Nathan answered, “and she’s threatening to walk away. Mrs. Middleton has summoned her husband to try to salvage the union.”
“Who told her about this?” Edwina fumed.
“I have no idea,” Nathan claimed.
“Who told you?”
“It doesn’t matter. We simply have to figure out what to do now, for I must confess that I am at a loss. I don’t wish to be caught in the middle of this, and I’m vexed that I will have to devise a solution. Considering the details that have come to light, I couldn’t in good conscience advise Susan to proceed. I think she would be wise to run far and fast in the opposite direction. I’m positive her father will view it the same way, so I can’t see how any of it will be saved.”
Percy felt himself shrinking, becoming smaller and smaller. If the sensation persisted, perhaps he’d ultimately be invisible, and he could sneak out without being observed.
He’d never been able to defy his mother. She was like a powerful, vengeful goddess who could wreak havoc and destroy worlds. In any dispute, there was no reasoning with her, so he dealt with her by not dealing with her. He spent all his time in London where he was generally content—or as content as a man could be when he was laboring under the weight of such a horrendous secret.
How might she respond? She constantly emasculated him with her castigations and criticisms. If the marriage to Susan was wrecked, he’d never hear the end of it.
Slowly, carefully, his mother shifted around, her lethal focus moving from Nathan to Percy as she seethed, “Do you comprehend the ramifications of your actions?”
“This is a minor misunderstanding, Mother. When Mr. Middleton arrives, Nathan and I will fix it in a trice.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Nathan snottily said. “I don’t wish to be involved, remember?”
“What is her name?” Edwina hissed.
Percy grimaced. “It’s hardly important, is it?”
She slapped the arms of her chair and bellowed, “Who is she?”
His anxious gaze flitted to Nathan. “Could I just not say?”
“You will apprise me immediately, you miserable boy!” Edwina’s shout echoed off the ceiling. “Who is this slut who has opened her legs and ruined your future? Tell me! I demand it!”
His temper sparked again. How dare she question him! How dare she yell and disparage as if he were still a child. He’d hidden the truth from her forever, and it would be such a relief to release it out into the universe.
“If you must know,” he said, “it’s Pamela.”
“Pamela…Pomeroy?”
He smirked, liking how he’d finally managed to put Edwina in her place. “Yes, it’s Pamela Pomeroy.”
“That…tart? That slattern? That mercenary trollop? That…that…actress?”
“Yes, the very one.”
“I ordered you to split with her!”
He shrugged. “I didn’t listen.”
He couldn’t imagine what he’d been expecting. Howls of outrage? Shrieks of offense? But the old bat never ceased to astonish him.
Before he realized what she intended, she physically attacked him. Fists clenched, she launched herself at him, practically toppling his chair as he struggled to scoot away, to avoid her furious blows. Punch after punch rained down—and they were very fierce punches too.
He grappled to grab her wrists, to subdue her, but made no headway. Eventually, Nathan leapt over and yanked her away.
“Whoa there, Edwina!” Nathan said. “Calm down! Calm down!”
She was out of control, like a deranged lunatic who would have been perfectly at home in an asylum. She swung on Nathan, landing a glancing clout on his temple before he could restrain her.
He bent her over the desk and held her there, face crushed to the wood, as she cursed and spat and called Percy every foul name he’d ever heard—and even some he hadn’t. She kicked at Nathan’s shins and tried to stomp on his feet, but he was bigger and stronger. Gradually, she ran out of steam, and her frantic wrestling halted.
“I’ll let you up,” Nathan said, “but only if you promise to knock it off. I realize you’re angry, but I swear, if you hit me again, I’ll hit you back.”
“I’ll stop fighting you,” she vowed, “if you’ll get my disobedient, stupid son out of this room. If I have to look at him, I’ll be sick all over the floor.”
Nathan nodded at Percy, visually commanding him to depart, and he was glad to flee. He was gaping at his mother, stunned and agog to have witnessed this side of her. He’d always thought she was a witch and a bully, but clearly, he’d had no idea.
He slid away and hurried to the door. Just as he reached it, Dobbs slinked in.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Lord Selby,” he said to Nathan, “but I have a letter from your cousin, Trevor. He left it on the pillow on his bed. A maid found it.”
Nathan huffed out a heavy breath. “We’re having a bit of a family…discussion, Dobbs. Can’t it wait?”
“I don’t think so, my lord.”
Edwina was still bent over the desk, Nathan pinning her down. He stepped away carefully, studying her as if she were a venomous snake. He forcibly set her in her chair, then he motioned Dobbs forward.
If Dobbs had an opinion about the odd scene, he gave no sign. He sauntered over to Nathan and handed him Trevor’s letter. Nathan scanned the words, then he laughed in a peculiar way.
“What does he say?” Edwina asked.
“Apparently, Aunt,” Nathan told her, “we were bickering for no reason because Percy won’t be marrying Susan after all.”
“And why wouldn’t he? I’m a party to the contracts, and I haven’t agreed to end it.”
“Yes, but it’s too late to worry about it.”
Edwina blanched. “What? Why?”
“It appears Trevor has eloped to Scotland—with Susan.”
Edwina wailed like a banshee, and Percy fainted dead away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Thank you for attending me at once.”
“Did I have a choice?”
“No.”
Florence glared at Edwina, thinking she looked much older all of a sudden, as if she’d aged a hundred years. The lines on her face were clearly marked, the cruel set of her lips more visible. But it was her eyes that were most striking. They burned with a fire that appeared close to intense hatred.
What could have happened?
They were in Edwina’s bedchamber, with Florence being summoned by the horrid woman when she wasn’t even dressed. She’d had no breakfast yet either, but apparently, some sort of emergency had occurred.
Florence had thrown on her clothes and stomped to the meeting. All the way, she’d fumed over and over, This better be good! This better be important!
Edwina was seated at a table by the window, and she didn’t stand when Florence entered. She didn’t wave Florence over or give any type of cordial greeting, which ignited Florence’s temper. She marched over and sat down without waiting to be invited.
“What can I do for you, Edwina?” she asked. “And before you apprise me, I feel compelled to state that it’s quite discourteous of you to send for me as if I’m your vassal.”
“Have you spoken to your daughter this morning?”
“No, why?”
“Last night, she missed supp
er, and you claimed she was indisposed.”
“She was. Is there some reason I’m being interrogated about it?”
“Have you checked on her lately?”
“No. I’m barely up myself.
Edwina shot a glare of such malice that it nearly knocked Florence off her chair.
“What is it?” Florence was afraid of what the answer might be. “What’s wrong?”
“Susan has eloped.”
“With Percy? Why would they? Their wedding is in a few days. Why waste all the money and preparation?”
“She didn’t elope with Percy, you idiot,” Edwina said. “She’s run off with Trevor.”
The news was so shocking that Florence needed a moment to unravel the comment. “Do you mean your son, Trevor?”
“Yes, I mean Trevor. She’s dashed Percy’s hopes and ruined his future. She’s annihilated my family’s affectionate bond. She’s wrecked my life and my sons’ lives. Your daughter did that. Your daughter has gleefully destroyed all I hold dear!”
Florence was astounded. Susan had been socializing with Trevor, but when pressed about it, she’d insisted it was all very innocent. Obviously, Florence had completely misjudged the situation.
Her mind was whirring, calculating the level of scandal that was approaching. Her daughter had eloped! It was the most improper act a respectable female could commit—short of finding a babe in her belly before she had a ring on her finger.
Florence ceaselessly strove to raise herself up, but this humiliation would demolish what little status she’d attained. Their name would be dragged through the mud, and she’d be a laughingstock. The entire debacle would be so embarrassing that she’d likely have to take an extended holiday so she could hide until someone else’s daughter did something worse.
What about the dowry and Susan’s marrying her fiancé’s brother? What had the foolish child been thinking?
Albert would never hand the money over to Trevor. If he ever considered it, Florence wouldn’t let him. There couldn’t be a reward for such outrageous conduct. Nor would they ever allow Susan to come home. If Florence ultimately calmed down and started pondering a reconciliation, Albert wouldn’t permit it.
Normally, he was a kind and fair man, but not always. If he was snubbed or tricked, he could be very cruel—as Susan was about to learn to her grave detriment.
