It’s only to avert suspicion.”
“This is not a good time, Monty,” Emma said crossly.
“What do you mean? It’s the perfect time.”
“I’m busy.”
“No, you’re not.”
Lunging forward, he pinned her struggling body to the wall with his own. “Let’s make love,” he shouted, battering her face with loud, clumsy kisses. “Don’t be shy. Give yourself to me, angel! We’re completely and utterly alone.”
“Not quite,” said Nicholas, tapping him hard on the shoulder.
Startled, Monty whirled around, his nose connecting nicely with Nicholas’s fist. The Scotsman went down, bright red blood spraying from between his fingers as he clutched his nose. A group of officers came running up. Two of them grabbed Nicholas while a third helped Monty to his feet. “You broke my nose,” Monty complained.
“If you liked your nose, you should not have insulted this lady,” Nicholas answered, struggling to get free. “Apologize at once, or prepare to meet me on the field of honor.”
The officers scoffed. “This is Lord Ian Monteith,” one of them said. “He isn’t going to fight a nobody like you.”
“Is that so?” said Nicholas. “Well, I am Lord…I am Lord…Damn it! I’ve forgotten the name of the bloody place.”
“He is Lord Camford,” Emma said clearly. “Now take your hands off of him before I call the servants.”
“And who are you, pretty?” one of the officers demanded, but he was instantly silenced by one of his companions.
“It is the duchess,” the man whispered. “I have seen her portrait in London, in the National Gallery. It is she.”
Nicholas was released. “Apologize,” he said, glaring at Monty.
Monty now had his handkerchief pressed over his nose. “I beg your pardon, Lord Camford,” he groaned.
“Not to me, you fool! To the lady.”
“I am sorry, your grace. I was run away by my feelings.”
Nicholas took Emma’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “He doesn’t sound very sincere,” he said, scowling. “I think I’d better shoot him.”
“Please, my lord!” Monty cried. “I am contrite! I will never speak to the lady again. I swear it.”
Emma pressed her face against Nicholas’s coat. “Please don’t shoot him, my lord. I abhor violence. Will you be good enough to take me back to the house? Suddenly, I am cold.”
“Of course,” said Nicholas. As he led her away, he glanced back at the officers. “Get that man out of here before any of the ladies see him,” he snapped.
“Yes, my lord,” they said. “Thank you, my lord.”
Nicholas hardly heard their obsequious replies. “You’re shaking,” he said gently, rubbing Emma’s gloved hand between his own. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” she said. “You won’t leave me alone, will you?”
“Not for an instant,” he assured her.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Nicholas. You’re not going to start milording me now, are you?” he complained.
“I might,” she said, smiling up at him. “I just might. You were very heroic.”
“Heroic? No,” he said. She could tell that he was pleased.
“Indeed, you were,” she insisted. “I’m afraid to think what would have happened if you hadn’t been there,” she added mendaciously, covering her face with her hands. “That man—”
“I will not let him hurt you, Emma,” he murmured, taking her in his arms. “He will never go near you again.”
“I feel so safe with you, Nicholas,” she said softly, lifting her face to be kissed.
“You are safe with me, Emma,” he told her very seriously.
To her disappointment, he meant it.
Lord Hugh Fitzroy entered his wife’s sitting room at precisely half-past four. Anne and her brood were already assembled there, dressed to go down to the main drawing room for tea.
“Good afternoon, Papa,” the young ladies chorused.
“Well?” he said. “What progress has been made with Cousin Nicholas?”
“What progress could there be?” cried Lady Anne. “We have not seen him today.”
Lord Hugh flew into a rage. “What do you mean you have not seen him today?”
“Harriet had him last,” Lady Anne said, desperate to avoid his wrath. “Ask your sister where he is.”
He looked amazed. “Ask my sister—! Am I to understand you have not seen your nephew since last night? What in God’s name have you been doing with your time?”
“I have had the headache,” Lady Anne whimpered.
“The headache! I will give you the headache, madam wife!”
“I wrote him a love letter, Papa,” Flavia said quickly.
“Well, I am glad someone is thinking of the main chance,” said Lord Hugh.
“It was my idea, Papa,” Cornelia shrieked. “Flavia stole it from me.”
“I am wearing my blue muslin,” Julia pointed out. “It is very low cut, and I am not tucking lace.”
“We can see that for ourselves,” Cornelia sneered. “Your chest appears to have exploded.”
Julia preened. “They are called bosoms,” she informed them. “They are Out, even if I am not.”
“Papa,” Octavia said sternly, “tell your youngest daughter she cannot go to tea looking like that.”
“It is not my fault that I have a chest and my sisters do not,” Julia argued.
Lord Hugh took out his pocket watch and looked at it impatiently. “I need not remind you idiotic females that time is not on our side. One of you must be engaged to him by Twelfth Night. If he makes it to London, some scheming adventuress will be sure to trap him. And then, what will become of us? When he comes of age, we’ll be nothing more to him than poor relations! He can turn us all out into the snow if he likes.”
“I know, Husband,” Lady Anne whispered.
“Then why have you been idle all day?” he snapped.
“I thought he was with you!” she cried.
Lord Hugh scowled at her. “With me? Why should he be with me? He is your nephew. I have been playing cards with General Bellamy.”
“Oh, dear,” Lady Anne said foolishly. “I hope you did not lose very much, Husband.”
The veins bulged in Lord Hugh’s forehead. “What does it matter if I did?” he demanded. “I have ten thousand pounds coming to me.”
Lady Anne clapped her hands together. “Husband! That is excellent news. Why, that is two thousand pounds for each of our girls. They shall have dowries.”
“Two thousand pounds is no fitting dowry for a Fitzroy,” Lord Hugh sniffed. “I should be ashamed to offer such a paltry sum to a gentleman. I would rather they find husbands who will take them for nothing.”
“We shall have to, at this rate,” Octavia said dryly.
Lord Hugh spun around to glare at her. Unmoved by his bullying, Octavia gazed back at him with chilly