Chapter 30 #2
“Annabelle is now my family too, Elizabeth, and therefore my responsibility. And my job, wife, is to protect my family, which I fully intend to do.” He rolled over again, thinking that ought to end it.
Apparently not.
“How can you claim to protect your family by keeping them—me—in the dark? Milton, it is not fair. I am not some ignorant miss. I am wise in ways you—”
“Wise, Lizzie, really?” He locked her in his gaze. “You have no idea what kind of man Finch is, nor what fate lies in store for your sister should he—”
“Yes, and how should I know this, Milton, when you deliberately keep it from me?” She was in a state alright, though her lovely tresses trailed her breasts in alluring, dark lines that made his blood flow straight to his groin.
He forced himself to focus. “Elizabeth, trust me to know what is best. I’ve a long and nasty history with Finch, and I will deal with the man in—”
“History, I see,” she fumed. “Yet another piece of your past you are unwilling to divulge, even when that past clearly informs my sister’s present danger.
Do you think me so na?ve, sir? Do you think me not apprised of my father’s own checkered dealings?
Think I haven’t spent my life negotiating payment of his debts with men who threatened and—? ”
Milton roughly grabbed her arm. “What men, Lizzie? Who threatened you?”
“Debt collectors, Milton! Tradesmen! You met that nasty butcher the first day you called at our house. I have spurned, stalled, and sweet talked my entire life to protect my sister, or do you forget I agreed to this marriage to protect her from you?”
Milton wanted to simultaneously throttle and devour her, for she crackled and sparked just like the day they’d first met. He knew it would be a grave mistake, however, to distract her again with the persuasion of flesh.
“Tradesmen and debt collectors, Elizabeth, are not Hieronymus Finch.” He tamped down his disgust at even uttering the fiend’s full name. “They are angels in comparison.”
“Then who in hell’s name is he, Milton, and why is Mr. Harris mixed up in all of this?”
“Cursing now, Lizzie? Did I marry a hoyden, perhaps?”
She folded her arms, hiding her lovely bosom; he wholeheartedly disapproved.
“Do not tease me, sir, not in such serious matter as this. Who are these two men who vie for my sister’s hand? I will have answers.”
Milton rose from his bed, making an effort not to stare at his wife’s naked glory lest he fall to ravishing her again.
“When we married, Lizzie, I knew the funds I gave your father would not last. More than this, I feared the very manner in which I’d won your hand would serve as a model for your father to marry off your sister in similar lucrative manner. ”
***
She’d had the very same thought, making Elizabeth’s insides churn with only greater worry, but she would first hear him out. She listened closely while Milton dressed.
“Arthur Harris owns a gaming den—one I invest in myself. It is a hall your father frequents, and where I played him at cards the night I gained your hand. Arty is also my most trusted friend. I asked that he introduce himself to your sister the day we married, so that he’d know who Annabelle was.
I also asked him to keep an eye on your father and report to me his losses and wins.
Arty did me a favor in this, Lizzie, nothing more. ”
His story made sense, but events still did not add up.
“What I had not counted on was Finch, of all men, pursuing Annabelle.” Milton grimaced. “The moment Arty discovered Finch was courting your sister, I made Arty court her too. To show your father—and Finch—that more reputable gentlemen might compete for her hand.”
“Reputable, sir? The owner of a gaming den is a reputable choice of suitor for my sister?”
“Elizabeth, I’d begun soliciting more respectable options for Annabelle, but your father’s ability to run through cash is”—his face soured—“remarkable. Finch’s suit came along faster than I could drum up serious interest for Bella amongst the gentlemen of the Ton.
Nor did I have time to consult my own solicitor as to the legality of providing her with a dowry your father could not steal. ”
“I see.” She chewed her lip. “So without consulting me, or consulting Annabelle, you decided to wed her off to a gentleman of your own choosing.”
“Yes.” He buttoned his fall. “The sooner she is married the sooner she is safe from predators.”
“Like you,” Elizabeth stated.
“Come again?”
“Like you, the predator who snatched me.”
“Elizabeth, I am a far cry from—”
“Are you, Milton?” She let out her hurt.
“Is that why you chose not to marry Annabelle yourself, because you saw in her a woman of greater worth? Is it why you now go out of your way, behind my back, to secure her an honorable marriage, while you had no qualms—no qualms at all, sir—taking me to altar against my will?”
“Have a care, Lizzie.” His gaze darkened. “Because by the time we’d finished courting, I recall you were not as unwilling as you claim.”
“You seduced me, sir.” She grabbed her night-rail from the floor. “And I am appalled to discover how underhanded you have been with my sister too.” She threw the billowy gown over her head. “Not once did you apprise me of matters, or share with me your concerns for Bella’s future.”
Tears began to well in her eyes, and Elizabeth did not know why. She knew only that for Milton to have deemed her opinion, her assistance, irrelevant—unnecessary, even, in steering Annabelle toward a happy match—hurt.
“All my life,” she told him, “I have shielded my sister from men’s baser natures, hoping she might marry a gentleman more worthy than our father.
So for you to disregard, nay, discard my help, as if I were an annoyance, an impediment to your plans”—she aggressively brushed back tears—“makes me all the more disappointed in you, sir. Deeply so.”
“Then I am sorry I fail you yet again, wife.”
So now his pride was wounded?
“But I maintain my intent was and remains honorable in regards to both your sister and yourself.”
“Honorable!” she exploded. “In no way was the manner in which you gained my hand in marriage honorable, Jasper Audrey, and well you know it.”
Their eyes locked as Elizabeth’s pulse hammered in her chest, “Milton!” being bellowed from the bowels of the house, followed by a sudden, shuddering slam and “No, I will see the bastard now!”
Hushed, low voices commenced before heavy steps thudded in approach. “I demand an audience. At once!”
Elizabeth and Milton froze, both straining to discern the ruckus in the hallway.
“Papa?” She ventured toward the door before fists pounded, “Let me in, damn you!” and she jumped back, colliding into Milton’s hard frame directly behind her.
Her husband turned the key and her father tumbled inside, scowling.
“You let this happen!” He pointed his finger at the Baron, who took a step back. “Where is she, blast you? Where has Harris taken my daughter?”
Her father’s words chilled Elizabeth’s heart.