Chapter 15 #3
Dropping her gaze, she went, “He is visiting the area and will be attending the ball as part of Lord Dunster’s party. I encountered him several days ago during one of my walks, and we have spoken several times since then.”
“I see.” Her father’s voice was expressionless.
“He will likely be calling here,” said Kyra. “To pay his respects.”
Her gaze was fixed on the far windows, but even so, she was acutely aware of his searching stare. “With your blessing?”
She hesitated in answering.
“I had not thought your affections were still engaged, not after the way he abandoned you after the accident.” The tightly measured control of his voice then betrayed a ripple of emotion as he muttered, “It was a damned ungentlemanly and cowardly thing to do.”
“I thought you approved of him.”
The duke rubbed at his brow. “You seemed to have had your heart set on him, and as your mother and I had made a love match against my own father’s wishes, I did not wish to play the tyrant with you.
Matherton was from a good family, and I knew nothing to his discredit, save for the fact that his charm seemed too oily for my taste. In retrospect?—”
“In retrospect, I should have seen him for what he was,” she blurted out. “A schemer who cared more for my dowry and your patronage than he ever did for me.”
Levering his broad bulk out of his chair, he enfolded her in a fatherly hug. The faint crackle of starch and scent of his shaving soap brought a rush of childhood memories. How dearly she had missed the safe haven of his arms.
“Oh, Papa,” she mumbled against his shoulder. “What a fool I have been.”
“Let us have none of that, missy” said the duke gruffly. “If anyone has been the fool, it is I. But that is all behind us.”
Kyra held him tightly, savoring the comforting warmth of his body and steady pulsing of his heart. Touch and feel—Rafael had made her so joyfully aware that physical connection was a powerful part of love.
“As for Matherton, have no fear that he will pester you anymore. When that jackanape shows up at the door, I shall send him away with a flea in his ear.”
“No!” she exclaimed, pulling back in alarm. “That is, it’s not quite so simple.”
Her father’s brow furrowed in question.
“I . . .” Her newfound courage faltered. “I would rather not explain all the details, Papa.” There were some things a father shouldn’t have to know. “He has made some threats.”
“The scoundrel!” rasped the duke. “I shall darken his deadlights?—”
“I have every confidence that he will be punished for his perfidy, Papa. But please, you mustn’t go off half-cocked. You see, Mr. Greeley has a plan.”
“Greeley, eh?” His look of rage gave way to a more bemused expression. “Now there is a steady, sensible fellow.” He picked up his spectacles and polished them on his sleeve, then set them down again. “I like him.”
Kyra felt a flush steal to her cheeks. “Yes, so do I.”
The duke cleared his throat with a small cough. “He has a plan, you say?”
“Actually, I am not quite sure what he has in mind. He left for London this morning in order to search out information. Don’t ask me what, for he didn’t say.
He simply asked me to trust him, and, well, I am happy to do so.
” Feeling a little awkward, she quickly added, “After all, he is Jack’s cousin. And Jack is involved as well.”
“Ah, well, then I suppose I can rest easy that the matter is in capable hands,” her father said. “Those two young war heroes should have no trouble defeating a lily-livered coward.”
She hoped that was true. But a frisson of worry slid down her spine. Matherton didn’t play by gentlemanly rules, while Rafael and Jack were the very souls of honor.
“Yes, if all goes according to plan. But we all have a part to play in it, Papa.”
“Excellent. I do hope it calls for me to have my Manton pistols loaded and primed,” quipped her father. He flexed a fist. “Though in truth I would rather plant that scoundrel a facer.”
“I trust it won’t come to firearms or fisticuffs,” answered Kyra. “Rafael—that, is, Mr. Greeley, would simply like for you to make it known that in addition to celebrating Jack’s return, a special betrothal announcement will be made at the ball.”
The duke sat up a little straighter in his chair. “A betrothal?”
Kyra was sure her face was now flame red. “Yes, Matherton is pressing me to agree to marry him, and in order to keep him off guard, I must pretend to accede to the demand. Having the guests all abuzz about the surprise announcement will further lull him into a false sense of security.”
“Mr. Greeley is to be commended for having devised such a clever ruse.”
“Yes, well, he and Jack have a great deal of experience in planning tactics and strategies to defeat a cunning enemy.”
“Thank heavens for that.” Her father pursed his lips. “The guests will of course be disappointed that it is all a hoax. Tell me, did Greeley give any hint as to how I should deal with that?”
“I . . .” Was that a twinkle lurking in the depths of her father’s eye? “Perhaps it would be best if you speak to him about that, Papa. I wouldn’t want to garble any of the details.”
“Yes, perhaps that would be best.” It was definitely a twinkle. “Indeed, I am very much looking forward to what the clever lad has to say.”