Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

The Duke of Bradenton formally invites

The Duke and Duchess of Sherring and their family

To attend an evening ball

For a night of dancing, dining and

A most important announcement

R eality shattered.

The woman he’d courted, pursued and loved was his informant. He’d sent her on perilous quests to unearth information about the most dangerous lords in the ton . He’d put her in danger, again and again. That he didn’t know it was no excuse. He was furious, most of all, at himself.

How could he have missed it?

The signs were so obvious. Both Priscilla and Lord P kept secrets. They shared similar goals and interests. They were clever and witty and cared greatly about the cause. Blazes, the letter P!

The illumination had a million consequences, yet one thing would never change:

She was his.

The truth had not made him want her any less. If anything he was even more awed by her courage, her sacrifice, her pure goodness. He had known she was amazing, yet this showed just how incredible she was.

He could not give up Priscilla. Would not. Yet emotions were raw. She would respond better if he were calm, yet thoughts of the danger upended him. Even if he had to act the powerful autocrat, he could not allow her to risk herself.

“You still want to marry me?” Priscilla stared at him. “But I thought–”

“This doesn’t change my desire to marry you.” He tried to soften his voice, yet it came out hard, cold. He was doing it wrong, but he couldn’t stop. “I bedded you last night.”

She swallowed, looked down. Her eyes sheened.

Curse it.

“Priscilla–”

“No!” Her eyes lit with stubbornness and strength. “We will not marry because I did what every man does on a regular basis. Not because it is logical and most certainly not because of scandal. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for duty. Despite what you claim, you want a woman who will sit at home while you save the world. I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I’m going to save the world myself.”

She was glorious. He should tell her it was far more than duty that drove him, yet he stood in stoic silence as she walked towards the door. She turned, and for just a moment, something flickered in her eyes, anguish, vulnerability, something stronger he couldn’t identify.

He moved forward, but she quickly opened the door, her features disappearing into a hardened glare. “I will continue my work. No matter what you do, or who you tell, I will find a way. You can’t stop me.” Her voice choked. Then she turned and fled, slamming the door behind her.

It took every ounce of restraint to not follow her, sling her over his shoulder and whisk her to Gretna Green as he had earlier threatened. Even if it nearly killed him, he would bide his time, formulate a plan. That he had handled this wrong was without a doubt, yet what else could he have done? Told her to risk her life? Given his blessing? If something happened, it would be his fault.

She was wrong about one thing. This was not over, not even close. He strode to the door, opened it. Time to win this battle.

The future depended on it.

“It’s good to see you again, Bradenton.”

Sherring offered a warm smile and a hearty handshake. It was a positive sign, yet Edmund could not return it. He gave a serious nod. “Your Grace.”

“Come in, come in.” The duke shut the door and gestured to an overstuffed chair.

Edmund shook his head, then a second time when the duke offered spirits. He would need all his faculties to conduct the detailed and logical strategy he’d formed for the most important fight of his life.

“I would like to marry your daughter, Your Grace.”

He had not meant to blurt it out, yet the words came of their volition. So much for strategy and planning. Hopefully, they would be enough.

He did not want to expose Priscilla’s secrets.

Or his.

Sherring leaned against the desk, his eyes narrowing. He said nothing for a moment. “It was my hope you would offer, yet based on my daughter’s behavior, I assume matters have not progressed as smoothly as all that.”

If there had been a vase in the room earlier, he may have needed a surgeon. “I’m afraid Priscilla is resistant to the match,” he admitted. “She has misconceptions about what type of suitor would be best.”

“It would appear so.” Sherring folded his arms across his chest. “It would seem my daughter prefers men who talk to rocks.”

So much for a man’s confidence… “She prefers a man who talks to rocks so he doesn’t talk to her.” He would not share all her secrets, yet some explanation might be of use. “She does not truly want a match.”

Sherring sighed. “I suspected as much. An obsession was the defining character of her suitors.” He eyed him closely. “Except for you.”

Edmund stepped forward. “I may not be what she thinks she wants, but I can provide what she needs. A true match between equals, two people with similar positions, social standing and goals.” He launched into the speech he prepared. “I am a man of power and means, from a reputable family and excellent social standing. I can provide her with all she requires, a secure and comfortable life.”

“My boy, if you think Priscilla wants a secure and comfortable life, then you do not know her at all.”

Edmund stopped short. It was not what Priscilla wanted, yet he assumed it was what her father would want to hear. Had he miscalculated?

“I love my children.”

Bradenton looked up.

“It may not be the fashionable thing, or the most common, but I care deeply about Priscilla and my boys. Of course I want a suitable match, but above all, I want her to be happy. I would never approve a match that didn’t make her happy, no matter how advantageous.”

Sherring turned towards a painting on the wall. It showed the duke as a young man, with his duchess and four young children. Even as a child Priscilla had that spark in her eyes. “Of course I wish for my daughter’s safety and well-being. It’s the reason I demanded a match in the first place. Yet she can attain the same benefits with the suitors she claims to prefer. Tell me, Bradenton, why you?” The duke’s expression turned serious. Although older, he was still a powerful man, a father defending his daughter. “I told Priscilla I would give her a choice, yet you are asking me to overrule it. Why should I grant your request?”

Edmund opened his mouth to tell him about the logic of it all. His position. His wealth. His power. And yet it was not what the duke wanted to hear. So he looked straight at the man who would be his bride’s father and…

Admitted what he had not been able to tell Priscilla.

And when he had finished, the duke patted him on the back. “Now that’s what a father wants to hear.” He lifted his glass. “Welcome to the family, son.”

“We’re looking for Priscilla Livingston.”

“Clearly, she isn’t here. Our Priscilla is barely out of the nursery.”

“She can’t be this beautiful woman.”

Priscilla stared, open mouthed.

“Well, poppet, aren’t you going to greet your loving brothers?”

She shouldn’t be happy. Shouldn’t be relieved her brothers had returned, en masse, their power magnified by their numbers. The protective men would most certainly side against her when it came to Bradenton. Yet when her oldest brother, Alexander, opened his arms, she couldn’t stop herself.

She ran to him.

They took turns hugging her. All were well-built and handsome men, with the trademark emerald eyes of the Livingstons. Striking, yet different, they would soon be the talk of London. Alexander, the duke’s heir and an earl, already had the regal bearing of his inheritance with his black hair and tanned skin. Richard was all about power, a lightning-fast swordsman with an astounding mind for numbers. Then there was Nicholas, once the baby, now the largest of the group at well over six feet and three inches. His light blond hair and angel-like charm hid steel-like strength.

They were powerful men, yet to her, they were simply three boys who loved to tease and care for her. Now they patted her back, ruffled her hair and giant Nicholas even lifted her up for a big bear hug. She complained and grimaced and made a fuss.

How she had missed them.

Finally, they let her go, with broad smiles so similar yet different. “Let us look at you then,” Alexander stood back. “I must say, my dear, you are beautiful. It’s only been months, but you seem different.”

“I am the same,” she protested. Yet the words tasted strange, even to her. Nothing was the same, nor would it ever be.

They couldn’t know what happened between her and Bradenton. “You three are looking well. I am certain the eligible misses will think so.”

The triple looks of horror were so comical, she couldn’t help but giggle.

“It’s been strange going through so much of the season without you. You spent longer with our cousins than I expected.”

The men exchanged glances.

Priscilla narrowed her eyes. “That’s where you were, right? With James, helping him with his estate while he recovered from the fever?”

Their cousin, a duke himself, had taken a bad illness a few months before. The entire family had visited for what they assumed would be a funeral, yet James had made an astounding recovery. While Priscilla and her parents returned to London to prepare for the season, her brothers had stayed to help run the estate. Yet the trip seemed excessively long…

“Of course we were helping.” Something flashed in Alexander’s eyes. “A few… issues arose that needed to be dealt with.”

No doubt there was a story behind that.

No doubt they would not tell her.

“Enough about us. We’re here now, and there is much to discuss.” Alexander’s gaze hardened as he instantly transformed from playful older brother to the second father he deemed himself. Her other brothers followed, until she felt the full weight of their scrutiny.

Not good.

She stood up tall. “I’m fine. Tell me more about your trip.”

Alexander folded his arms across his chest. “We are far more concerned about your adventures.”

She kept a light smile upon her lips. “This season has been like any other. You need only read the sheets to keep abreast of all the happenings.”

“At the moment, we are solely interested in the happenings of one lady.” Richard’s expression turned as hard as Alexander’s. “And that lady has been in the papers an awful lot.”

Priscilla straightened. “It’s not my fault.”

Triple looks of incredulity pierced her.

“It isn’t.” She smoothed down her dress. “You know how gossip spreads. Everything is embellished.”

“This time, there’s truth beneath the stories.” Alexander pursed his lips into a tight slash. “To be honest, we take some responsibility. As your brothers, it is our duty to help you navigate society.”

Richard nodded his agreement. “If we had been here, matters never would have progressed this far.”

“We will do whatever it takes to resolve matters,” Nicholas added.

Priscilla took a deep breath. She had forgotten how powerful her brothers were all on their own.

The man who would one day be Duke of Sherring glared at her. “We are here now.”

The others nodded.

Even as they showed their power, something fired within her. She was as much the child of a duke as they were. “I’m glad for your company, yet I require no assistance. I can handle my own affairs.”

“Did you leap from a moving carriage?”

“To be fair, it wasn’t actually moving.”

“Get in a fight with a shopkeeper four times your size?”

“He certainly wasn’t more than three times my size.”

“What about Bradenton?”

“Edmund is none of your business.”

It had been the wrong thing to say as her brothers’ expressions turned from dismayed to thunderous.

“I would very much dispute that.” Alexander’s words were quiet, yet held controlled strength. He studied her carefully. “Is there anything else we should know about?”

Well…

She spent her days investigating criminal lords.

She ran a secret society for social action.

She ventured into the slums weekly.

She visited a gaming hall while pretending to be a man.

Oh, and she made love to Edmund.

“Absolutely not.”

“I very much doubt that.”

She clenched her skirts. “Everything is fine. It is no concern of yours.”

Their expressions darkened further.

She forged on, “I am no longer a child. I am an adult woman who makes my own decisions.”

Alexander stepped forward. “You may be grown, but we are your brothers. It’s our job to ensure your safety.”

They sounded a lot like someone else she knew.

“I am perfectly fine on my own.”

“Really?” Nicholas countered. “Even in the country, rumors of your antics reached us. Do you know what it’s like to not be able to defend you? No doubt there’s far more you aren’t telling us.”

She stared at her brothers and they glared at her, like duelists meeting at dawn, neither backing down, and neither giving up.

“No matter how old you are, we will protect you.” Richard said. “You are our little sister.”

She sighed. “I’ll admit there were a few minor issues, but nothing to cause scandal. Your reputations are safe.”

“Our reputations?” Alexander held up his hands. “The last thing we are worried about is our matches! We care about you, Priscilla. We love you .”

Her breath caught in her throat. It was easy to fight against their anger, their overbearing nature, their stubborn authoritarianism. But their love?

That was a far greater challenge.

Yet though she loved her brothers, she couldn’t let them live her life.

“We are only trying to care for you, poppet.” Richard stepped forward.

“We want your safety and happiness,” Nicolas added.

“We will always stand by you,” Alexander promised. “Scandal or not.”

She stared at them for a moment, fighting to stay strong. It would be so easy to accept their rule, to stand down and let everyone dictate her life, yet she simply couldn’t. Not if she wanted to live the life she chose.

“I understand. And I truly appreciate your dedication,” she said quietly. “Yet as I said, all is well.”

“It will be as long as you accept.”

She stiffened.

Bradenton.

They man they hadn’t mentioned was the center of everything. Like her parents, friends and the entire ton, they believed she would soon be betrothed. How would they take it when she told them the truth?

It might be safer to flee to America and send them a letter.

“Father has already given the order that I must accept an offer this season, and I agreed. I simply have not yet decided whom that man will be.”

All three brothers stood taller. Flexed their muscles. And stared.

She put her hands on her hips. “It’s my choice.”

“You made your choice!” Alexander held up his hands. “The man with whom you danced a hundred waltzes. The man who saved you when you jumped from a carriage. The man whose bedroom you were in. Alone!” He stopped, took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, yet no less powerful. “Bradenton is a good man. We’ve known him since we were children, and I consider him a friend. That’s the only reason I’m not calling him out right now. Still, I have half a mind to–”

Priscilla’s breath hitched.

Alexander paused again, breathed out. “You will accept his offer.”

“I cannot.” She meant to speak firmly, yet the words came out quiet, whispered.

Her brothers’ anger faded, and they came closer.

Nicholas took a hand, Richard the other. “Can you tell us why?”

She looked down, shook her head.

“Has he done something?” Richard’s words were casual, yet backed by steel. “Is there something we should know about?”

“Do we need to talk to him?”

“Throttle him?”

“End him?”

“No!” She breathed in, freed her hands and wrapped them around herself. “He’s offered. In fact, he essentially dictated we’ll wed as soon as possible!” She shut her eyes. She hadn’t meant to admit that.

They should have been horrified.

Instead they nodded their approval.

Alexander seemed far calmer. “Bradenton is a good man. The match will be a favorable one.”

“But I don’t want it. Doesn’t that matter?”

The men looked between each other. Richard sighed. “Can you explain?”

Not without them locking her in her tower.

“I simply prefer other suitors. I will soon accept one of the offers I’ve received.”

“Please tell me it’s not the one who talks to rocks.”

Despite herself, she smiled. “Has everyone heard of him?”

They nodded simultaneously.

“No, it’s not the one who talks to rocks. I’m not nearly that desperate.”

“I do not understand, Priscilla.” Alexander shook his head, “Any other woman would be thrilled to catch Bradenton. While other lords may be suitable, he is exemplary. It simply makes sense that it’s him.”

“Perhaps for you, but not for me. Yet Father has gotten it in his mind that he’s my only choice. Please, will you help me?”

Her brothers exchanged silent glances. Then Alexander spoke for them all, “I’m sorry, Priscilla. I may not have been here, but I’ve heard enough. You will accept Bradenton’s offer.”

She held back tears as she looked to the others. Yet their gazes remained stoic.

Just like in the story, she would need to rescue herself.

“Hello, children.”

Priscilla spun.

Her mother stood in the doorway, her expression as somber as the bitterness churning in her stomach. The duchess should be ecstatic at her brothers’ return, yet instead her eyes were guarded, shuttered.

What had happened?

“Boys, I must talk with your sister.”

Her brothers must have sensed the serious mood, for not a single one complained about being called a boy. Each gave their own farewell, a hug from Nicholas, a hand on the shoulder from Richard and a kiss on the forehead from Alexander. They filed out.

Her mother wasted no time.

“Your father spoke with Bradenton.”

Priscilla felt the blood drain from her face. “Edmund was here?”

Her mother gave a small smile. “Yes, Edmund was here. He just left.”

Priscilla closed her eyes. Thank goodness he hadn’t asked to see her. She needed at least a little time to prepare for their inevitable encounter tonight. “What did he want?”

“I think you know,” her mother said softly.

He had asked for her hand. The words could have been yelled for how blatant they were, yet he had not exposed her ruse. Had he done so, her father would have climbed to the roof and read the banns without notice or church.

“What did Father say?” Priscilla spoke without emotion, at complete contrast to the storm raging inside.

“I think you know the answer to that as well.”

Her throat dried. He had accepted on her behalf. She could fight, but in the end it wouldn’t matter.

When the duke wanted something…

She shook her head without even realizing it. “No.”

Her mother strode to the gorgeous gown hanging on the bed, the ethereal masterpiece Edmund gifted her. “You will go tonight. You will wear this dress and the diamond necklace. And when he announces your betrothal, you will agree.”

No.

Yes.

Emotions swirled, upending reality and distorting desires, wishes, and needs. She fought for anger, the only feeling she could handle. “He said he wouldn’t force me. You said you wouldn’t!”

“I would never force you to marry a man you did not love.”

She froze. “What?”

The duchess came closer. “I will not allow you to give up something precious because of duty or fear. Tell me, Priscilla, do you love him?”

She blanched. “I… I…”

She tried to force out the denial, willed herself to say it.

She said nothing.

“That’s what I thought,” her mother said, not unkindly. “Priscilla, I am far more aware of you than you realize.”

Priscilla grimaced, but did not respond. Her mother could never understand.

“I fight for the same causes as you.”

“Of course, Mother.”

Her mother sighed, gave her a pointed look. “Social action.”

The world halted.

Her mother looked up. “You may think I fill my days with gossip and parties, but there is far more. Even married to a powerful duke, I fight for the causes important to me. Perhaps I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” She sighed. “I didn’t want you to feel like an outsider.”

Priscilla stared. Her mother was one of the most respected duchesses in the ton. Could she possibly have a secret life?

The duchess smiled softly. “Things change when you become a duchess. Your father fell in love with me because of who I was, not in spite of it. And he has allowed me to continue my work.”

“Your work? I don’t understand.”

“It is much like your efforts, the Distinguished Ladies of Purpose.” She gave a secretive smile. “The purpose of social action.”

Priscilla gasped.

Her mother pierced her with a shrewd look. “You didn’t think I knew about your clandestine activities? You hate to sew, and yet you suddenly start a sewing guild. You suffer once-a-week megrims, yet you are fine the rest of the time. Your pin money disappears, yet you rarely buy anything. I know all that you do, and why.”

“You know about all that?” Priscilla whispered. “But how?”

“Because I am your mother,” the duchess said. “Because I am so very proud when you change the world. But most of all, because I love you. Your happiness means everything to me. Do not forget, I have always been your greatest admirer .”

Priscilla gasped. Her greatest admirer? “You’re the one who’s been sending anonymous messages to my guild?”

Her mother smiled. “As I said, you do not know everything about me. But never doubt how very proud I am of you. Exactly as you are.”

Priscilla sniffed, looked down. Her mother opened her arms wide…

And embraced her.

And in her mother’s arms, everything was just a little better. Whatever the future brought, she had gained an ally. Her greatest admirer.

Tonight, she would need her more than ever.

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