Chapter Twenty-Seven
Wylder
It was Charlotte who delivered the news that the patient would make a full recovery.
It was advised that Emily remain abed for the remainder of the afternoon and evening and not to overtax herself with any physical exertion.
Her wrist was thankfully not broken but she had suffered a minor sprain.
The doctor wrapped it properly and instructed her not to use it excessively for a few days.
“Emily is especially distraught that the doctor expressly forbade her from attending the ball tomorrow night,” Charlotte related with a smile. “She argued that a sprained wrist would not affect her feet when it comes to dancing or socializing with other guests.”
“That sounds like my sweet Emily,” Lord Blackthorne laughed out loud. “Hearing this certainly eases my concerns.”
Wylder said nothing. He was already making plans to ensure his headstrong little minx remained abed and wondered if her parents would object to his taking over the task.
“She’s asked for you, Lord Wyldewood,” Charlotte said, her smile widening. “To thank you personally for rescuing her.”
“There are no thanks needed,” Wylder gruffly replied. “However, if Lord and Lady Blackthorne have no objections, I would welcome the opportunity to visit her for a moment.”
“I object,” Simon rumbled from where he stood near the fireplace.
“It is not up to you any longer, Simon,” Wylder said firmly. He’d reached a decision, one he would not back away from now. No longer would he allow his friendship with Simon to come between him and the woman he loved with every fiber of his dark soul.
“If you think I will allow you to debauch my sister while I stand idly by, you are mistaken,” Simon stated.
“Your wickedness is as great as my own, Wylder. Our reputations so sordid that we probably should not even be accepted in polite society. You will not drag my sister down to your level. I will not allow it—”
“Simon, Wyldewood is correct,” Lord Blackthorne abruptly interrupted.
“While I appreciate your concerns for your sister’s future happiness and well-being, the discussion at hand concerns Wyldewood, Emily, her mother, and me.
” Glancing at Lucien, who stood with one arm wrapped around Charlotte, Emily’s father added, “Lord Ashcroft, if you will remain behind as a witness to the initial discussion of the marriage contract, you shall have my gratitude.”
“I would be honored, Lord Blackthorne,” Lucien said with a sympathetic glance in Simon’s direction.
Simon’s face reddened. “You are seriously considering marrying Emily to Wylder?”
“I am. Of course, there are a few issues to be clarified first, but knowing Wyldewood’s character, I do not anticipate there being a problem,” Lord Blackthorne said in a serene voice and a broad smile. “And, son, if it eases your mind, your objections are duly noted.”
*
Wylder stepped out of Lord Blackthorne’s study, letting out a heavy sigh.
The negotiations took the remainder of the afternoon and once all was said and done, a tentative contract of marriage was in place.
Everything hinged on Emily agreeing to the arrangement.
Wylder insisted that the final decision be left to her.
As long as the circumstances behind the entire affair remained a secret, there was no urgency when it came to announcing the engagement.
Paramount to all parties was the protection of Emily’s reputation and the immediate squashing of any hint of scandal rising from the day’s events.
With any luck, Emily will agree to this marriage. She will be mine at last.
The mere thought sent a possessive thrill streaking through Wylder’s entire body. Leaning against the wall outside Blackthorne’s study, he closed his eyes and savored the feeling. He hoped it would be a permanent sensation… one he would enjoy for the rest of their life.
“Hullo there, Lord Wyldewood.”
Wylder’s eyes snapped open, and he immediately straightened his stance as Lord Patrick Bashear strolled toward him.
He appeared to have come from the billiards room, which was down that same corridor.
Several of the gentlemen had gathered there for a pleasant afternoon of games and libations since the weather was still foul.
“Bashear,” Wylder acknowledged with a nod of his head.
The man’s smile was genial. “I do hope you can help clear up a rumor floating around the halls today.” Rocking back on his heels, he regarded Wylder with a curious tilt of his head.
“My great aunt tells me there was an accident today when Lady Emily went out riding and that you lent some assistance in helping her return home. I pray she is well on the way to recovery.”
Wylder tamped down his suspicious nature as he regarded the other man.
Patrick Bashear was blond and handsome, his manners perfectly polished and his connections impeccable.
Many of the women attending the house party found him quite pleasing.
He wondered if Emily fell into that group or if her reactions to the man were simply politeness on her part.
“I’m told she will suffer no ill effects.”
“Ah, this is good to hear,” Patrick replied.
“I wish now I had gone along as planned. Perhaps, I could have done something to prevent it.” He shook his head as if relieved.
“However, I realized the weather would likely turn for the worse and had little desire to spend an afternoon getting soaked by rain. I tried dissuading Lady Emily from venturing out, but apparently, she is a very headstrong girl and has an unfortunate tendency to do as she pleases.”
Unfortunate tendency?
“I find Lady Emily’s… tendencies… entrancing.” Especially since she would probably be his wife very shortly, he would have the opportunity every day to enjoy them.
Patrick waved a dismissive hand. “Of course, I see the appeal.” He straightened his cravat, his expression turning thoughtful.
“She’s quite lovely, probably one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve seen since my return to England.
My aunt believes we would make a perfect match; however, I’m not quite sure of it.
See, I prefer my women a bit more subservient.
I’ve a feeling Lady Emily is quite a handful and most likely impossible to tame.
A challenge to some men, but such exertions are not usually to my liking.
However, the considerable wealth attached to her dowry does give me a reason to reconsider my initial impression.
A fortune like that could entice me to make an offer, provided the terms were agreeable. ”
A growl worked its way up in Wylder’s chest. The words that Emily belonged to him lay on the tip of his tongue, and it was only sheer willpower that kept them from bubbling out.
He’d made a promise to himself and Lord Blackthorne.
He would not reveal the impending engagement until Emily agreed to it.
Even if pompous arses like Lord Patrick Bashear goaded him to act irrationally.
“Perhaps I should dance a time or two with her tomorrow night to ascertain if it is possible to overcome the obstacles between us,” Patrick mused as he bowed to Wylder. “We shall see.” With a bow, Patrick moved past and continued his stroll down the corridor.
And Wylder felt like punching a wall in the depths of his frustrations.