Chapter 26
The following day, Tristan returned to the house with lunch already on his mind. A footman followed close behind, carrying a large, carefully wrapped object, and Tristan paused in the entrance hall to give his instructions.
“Have that taken to my chambers,” he said.
“Very good, My Lord.”
Tristan removed his gloves and handed them to another footman before making his way farther into the hall. His thoughts returned to the meeting he had with Mr. Markham and Mr. Pritchard that morning, and to the knowledge that slowly but surely, Lord Ravenscroft's power was coming to an end.
The questions he had asked Mr. Pritchard had brought with them more unpleasant truths than Tristan cared to recall, yet he remained immensely grateful that Nathaniel had made Mr. Markham's acquaintance. Without the magistrate's assistance, he doubted they would have come that far.
He had only taken a few steps toward the corridor when a commotion behind him caught his attention. Tristan turned to find Beatrice approaching with a grave expression, Georgiana close beside her looking thoroughly distressed, and Oliver trailing behind them with mud smeared across his pants.
A laugh escaped Tristan before he could prevent it. He immediately assumed Oliver had somehow managed to upset Georgiana, most likely through some ill-advised pursuit of the ducks, and had then compounded the offense by covering her in mud or otherwise embarrassing her.
But his amusement faded when Beatrice stepped toward him with an expression so serious that he knew at once it was no childish mischief.
“This is not good, Tristan. I had to practically rescue her from Lord Ravenscroft.” Beatrice's voice carried both anger and concern.
“Do not speak of that repulsive man's name!” Georgiana exclaimed, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes.
The color drained from Tristan's face. “What happened?”
“What on earth is going on?” Helena's voice came from behind him as she entered the hall from the corridor. Her gaze immediately went to Georgiana. “Dear Georgiana, what is wrong?”
“He threatened me!” Georgiana managed to gasp.
Helena's expression changed quickly. She looked toward Tristan, her eyes filled with both concern and uncertainty.
“We came upon the baron during our walk in Hyde Park,” Beatrice explained.
She glanced toward Helena and Georgiana.
“I shall meet you in the parlor shortly.” She turned toward Oliver, whose muddy pants appeared to have escaped his notice entirely.
“I want your hands washed, and your clothing changed.”
“Yes, Mama.” Oliver dutifully turned toward the stairs, dragging his heels with exaggerated reluctance.
“And use soap. Rinsing does not count as washing,” Beatrice called after him.
“Yes, Mama,” came the slow, thoroughly disenchanted reply.
Helena had already taken Georgiana gently by the arm and led her down the corridor. Tristan remained behind, waiting for Beatrice. Once she reached his side, they followed at a brisk pace.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a low voice as they walked.
“Rather unnerved.” Beatrice glanced toward the corridor ahead. “I do not like this, Tristan. I have a bad feeling about it all.”
Tristan's expression remained grave. “Did your encounter with Lord Ravenscroft seem deliberate?”
Beatrice gave him a troubled look. “We came upon him in the park, but I cannot say whether that was by chance. He waited until I was distracted by Oliver before approaching Georgiana.”
Tristan's mouth tightened. “Tell me everything once we are with the others.”
Beatrice nodded, then looked at him. “Did your meeting with Mr. Markham go well?”
“Indeed. He is a capable and just man.” Tristan's voice remained composed, though his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. “He believes there is more than enough to proceed.”
“I hope he does so swiftly.” Beatrice glanced at him again, and that time he saw plainly how troubled she was. “For after this morning... I am worried, Tristan.”
A footman opened the door for them, and they entered the parlor to find Georgiana had recovered somewhat, seated beside Helena on the settee.
Beatrice occupied the armchair closest to them, while Tristan chose to remain standing.
He crossed to the mantel and rested one hand against it, watching his sister closely.
“What happened, Georgie?” he asked calmly.
Georgiana drew a shaky breath. “It all happened so quickly. Beatrice and I were walking near the pond, while Oliver ran off to play with a few of the boys on the lawn. We stopped beneath a tree for some shade and watched him. Then Oliver took a tumble, and he fell rather hard. Beatrice handed me her umbrella and hurried over to him.”
“There were two older boys among them, and Oliver was trying to show off,” Beatrice explained.
“While I waited, Lord Ravenscroft approached me.” Georgiana's fingers twisted together in her lap.
“I could not have walked away, although I wish I had. He spoke to me as though he had never received your letter. He was so doting and...” She made a small face of disgust. “So sweet, so utterly false.”
“I had not seen him,” Beatrice added. “However, I did keep an eye out for him while we were walking.”
“I asked him whether he had received your letter, and he confirmed that he had.” Georgiana frowned. “He then insisted that you were against us. He said Helena had poisoned your opinion of him and reminded me that you and he had once been great friends.”
“He still believed you were under his influence,” Tristan said, his mouth forming a hard line. “And we were never friends, merely acquaintances.”
“He did.” Georgiana nodded. “He then said that we should elope. He told me that a disgruntled brother ought not stand in the way of such a great love match, and that he would never be able to remove me from his heart.” She shuddered.
“It was truly unnerving to hear him speak so plainly after all that you told me.”
“Poor girl.” Helena reached for Georgiana's hand. “How uncomfortable it must have been.”
“I told him I could not, that I respected my brother's wishes and that it would be best if we remained friends,” Georgiana continued. “But he would not have it. He stepped closer until I was practically against the tree, telling me that we had to marry.”
Tristan's hand clenched into a fist. “Please tell me that was when Beatrice came to your rescue.”
“Not quite,” Beatrice said softly.
Georgiana lowered her gaze. “I felt so trapped. I told him again that I could not and would not marry him. Not even if he were the last man left in London.”
Despite everything, Helena's expression softened with the faintest trace of admiration. “I cannot imagine he liked that.”
“No, he did not.” Georgiana's voice became softer.
“I saw an ugly side of him. He called me a foolish chit and said I ought to be grateful for his attention.” She hesitated, clearly reliving the moment.
“My temper rose, and I asked him how on earth he thought I could marry him after what he had done to my family. To my beloved brother Frederick and Elinor.”
Tristan's blood ran cold.
Georgiana looked toward him. “It did make him step back, but then he became awful! His whole face changed, he looked truly menacing! He told me I did not know what I was talking about and that he would ensure my silence if I continued speaking in such a way.”
“Good heavens,” Helena whispered.
“I told him our family would make certain justice was done, that his threats meant nothing to me,” Georgiana said, her voice thick with emotion.
“And that was when I reached you,” Beatrice said. “I only wish I had been there sooner.”
Georgiana looked down at her hands. “Beatrice says I should not have told him that. I did not mean to, but it slipped out. Was it terribly foolish?”
Tristan remained silent for a moment. He finally understood why Beatrice had been so anxious for Mr. Markham to proceed.
“We have all said things we did not mean to when placed in an uncomfortable situation, Georgie,” he said at last, knowing she was only nineteen years old, and in a desperately uncomfortable confrontation.
“And after the way Lord Ravenscroft behaved, I can understand why you said it.” He paused, his fingers tapping once against the mantel before becoming still. “The difficulty is that we have been able to investigate him without his knowledge. Now he knows he is exposed.”
Tristan looked toward Beatrice, then back at Georgiana. “There is nothing more dangerous than a man who believes he has nothing left to lose.”
The room fell silent. It was true, Lord Ravenscroft knew that the truth had come to light, and that Tristan was seeking justice. Tristan stepped toward Georgiana, who had tears running down her cheeks as she began to apologize.
“Georgie, no.” He reached for her hand. “Perhaps saying what you did prevented him from attempting to compromise you. He had you backed against a tree. He might have tried to kiss you, and had anyone seen it, your reputation could have been ruined.”
Georgiana looked up at him, her expression still troubled.
“You said what you needed to say to make him step away,” Tristan continued gently. “And I am proud of you for holding firm. You were frightened, and yet you refused to let him persuade you into doing something you did not wish to do.”
A fresh tear slipped down Georgiana’s cheek, and Tristan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Tristan continued. “I am only grateful that you are unharmed. Whether Lord Ravenscroft knows about our investigation or not, it does not alter what he has done. Mr. Markham has enough to proceed against him, and we shall see that justice is done.”
There was a knock at the door a moment later, followed by the announcement of Nathaniel's arrival. As soon as he entered the room, his gaze fell upon Georgiana, and he immediately crossed toward her.
“What has happened?” Nathaniel asked.
“Georgiana stood firm against Lord Ravenscroft. He tried to persuade her to elope,” Tristan explained. “But he encountered a rather determined and stubborn lady, one who was not easily controlled.”
Georgiana smiled at her brother, her eyelashes still wet with tears. “Thank you, Tristan.”
“What?” Nathaniel's composure vanished. “The baron did what?”
Beatrice then related the gist of what had occurred, while Nathaniel paced the room, his anger barely concealed.
“I wish I could challenge him to a duel,” he muttered. “He never gets his own hands dirty. I would be amazed if he even knew how to hold a sword.”
“You would challenge him for me?” Georgiana asked, looking at him in surprise.
Nathaniel stopped pacing, suddenly aware that he had an audience. Tristan watched as a faint flush rose in his friend's cheeks.
“Well, the audacity of such a repulsive man attempting to persuade a young lady...” He ran a hand through his hair. “Any gentleman would!”
Tristan laughed dryly. “Indeed.” He turned toward Georgiana. “Nathaniel is a most gallant gentleman, you see.”