Chapter Ten #3
“Check His Grace’s diary for the Duke of Broadmere and the Marquess of Kirkston.” Broadmere stared down the defiant little man.
Duncan clenched his teeth so tightly his jaws ached.
The attendant dipped a curt nod and disappeared through the door behind the long counter that divided the room in half.
Soon, the unsmiling man reappeared, returning with a sealed envelope.
He set it on the counter, pushed it toward them, and stepped back.
“His Grace begs your forgiveness, but he was called away by other matters. Since you were good enough to provide the details of your request as is required by His Grace, in all his generosity, he saw fit to respond with an answer that is included in this letter.” The man bowed.
“Good day, Your Grace and my lord.” Then he disappeared back through the door, almost running, as if afraid they would find the letter displeasing and take it out on him.
Broadmere snatched it up, broke the seal, and read it before shoving it into Duncan’s hands. “He refuses a new special license until the first is exhausted in ninety days and recommends the lady reconsider her prospects, since Lord Brixham is a fine man.”
“That bastard.” Duncan stared down at the letter, his hands trembling with rage. “Brixham got to him first.”
“Knowing him, he probably warned the archbishop this might happen whenever he got the license. He knows Merry loathes him.” Broadmere scrubbed a hand across his mouth, obviously fighting to remain civil. “Our business here is done.”
Duncan felt like leaping over that counter, barging through that fecking door, and snatching up the archbishop by the throat and shaking him until he begged for mercy.
But that would do little to help Merry’s cause.
In fact, it would only make things worse, because the well-connected man would then use every opportunity to ruin the Broadmere family even further.
The powerful devil had obviously honored his old alliance with Brixham’s father rather than what was good and right.
Battling to rein in his rage, Duncan carefully refolded the letter and tucked it inside his coat pocket. He led the way out to the carriage and threw himself into the seat.
Malcolm and Broadmere were close behind and just as disgusted.
“Merry will be beside herself,” Broadmere said quietly.
“Is there no way we could make Brixham disappear?” Malcolm asked.
“If anything happens to Brixham,” Duncan said, “we would be among the first sought out by the Bow Street Runners.” He gripped the window frame so tightly that the wood nearly cracked.
“And Merry would never have it. Ye know what she said about duels or anything else to rid this world of that man’s evil. ”
“Yet it would do no good to bring charges against that man for what he tried to do to Merry?” Malcolm punched the palm of his hand with his fist. “Is there no justice at all for women?”
“Rarely,” Broadmere said. “So much so that most simply keep quiet and heal themselves as best they can.”
“If Merry is willing, I shall take her to Gretna Green.” Duncan jutted his chin higher, daring the duke to say something to the contrary.
“Gretna Green?” Scowling, Broadmere first looked out one window, then turned and glared out the other as if searching for a better answer somewhere outside of the carriage. “Elopement? That is scandalous!”
“No more so than this current mess. Merry is of age, and later on, once that feckin’ special license expires, we can have a proper church wedding in England, if she so wishes.”
“’Tis the only solution,” Malcolm said, nodding in agreement. “If they try to announce the banns in church, Brixham will merely do his best to make everyone believe his objection to the marriage is legal, even though we all know it is not…technically.”
“But an elopement?” Broadmere said with a slow shake of his head.
“Come with us to Scotland,” Duncan said. “Serendipity and yerself can be our witnesses. The family’s approval would then be listed on the documents, showing ye as witnesses to our vows.”
“I would rather she wait out Brixham and do this the proper way.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be the right thing to do.”
“For whom? Yerself or yer sister?” Duncan had heard all he wanted to hear from Broadmere about the trip north across the border.
The duke bared his teeth. “I am trying my best to shield my sister from the unpleasantness of becoming a social outcast.”
“If ye had kicked Brixham’s sorry arse out of yer house that verra first day rather than inviting him to dinner, it would have been a damn sight better.”
Broadmere went quiet and paled as he sagged back against the seat. “I know,” he quietly admitted. “Do you not think I know that?”
Repentance shouted from the man, making Duncan feel a bit guilty about flinging the accusation. But the truth was the truth, and nothing could be done to change it. “When we reach yer home, I shall be asking her to choose. Ye will allow it and support her choice, aye?”
The duke eyed him for a long moment before throwing up his hands. “It appears I have little choice.”