Page 79 of Broken

Lord Winter rubbed a hand across his face.

“Papa.” Lilly fidgeted. “Am I truly betrothed to Giles still?”

“It makes no difference now. You will be married before the month is out.”

Giles discarded his teacup.

Rapid steps approached the open bedroom door. He stood, clasped Lilly’s cold fingers in his just as Barrette burst into the room, red faced and puffing mightily.

“What is the meaning of this?” The foppish demeanor had been discarded for hissing outrage. The man acted nothing like the amiable gent he had pretended to be just yesterday.

“Congratulate us. Your cousin has agreed to marry me. Again.” Giles pressed a lingering kiss to Lilly’s trembling fingers. He glanced at the clock as it struck the hour. It was exactly thirty minutes since Lilly had last screamed his name. The thought of it made him smile, and he wondered when he could get her alone.

As if reading his thoughts, Lilly blushed a deep shade of red. He turned to find Barrette glowering at his uncle.

“Are you three sheets to the wind? There can be no wedding!” Barrette’s gaze fell on Giles. “You have obviously coerced the baron into agreeing to this travesty of a marriage. Lillian isn’t fit to be a wife. You are just on the hunt for funds.”

Winter surged to his feet. “Now see here—”

Barrette sneered. “No, you see here, you old fool!”

Lord Winter bristled. “How dare you? Lord Daventry will marry my daughter, as has always been the case. Just remember, it isn’t unheard of for a man to challenge his relation to a duel for an insult. Do not tempt me.”

Giles dropped Lilly’s hand and stood beside the baron. “I believe that shall be my honor, my lord. He just insulted my future wife.”

A successful duel would teach Barrette a lesson, but if Winter failed and died, Barrette would have control over Lilly’s future. They had to be married.

Barrette shook with rage. “After everything I’ve done for you, Uncle, you’d consider dueling over that pathetic creature? She probably arranged the whole affair just to live in the center of another scandal.”

“Be gone,” both Giles and Lilly’s father growled in unison.

The little weasel held his ground. “You forget, sir, that I reached this destination in your company. I’ll leave when you do and not a moment before.”

Giles had had enough. He reached past the baron and grabbed hold of Barrette’s arm. He hauled the lightweight to his bedchamber door and threw him towards Lord Carrington’s grinning visage. “Dump him in the village to await the stage.”

“With pleasure, my friend.”

Carrington grasped Barrette’s arm and hauled the spluttering man down the hall and hopefully out of the house.

Giles found Lilly standing, but her hands twisted with agitation. He moved around behind her and rubbed into tense muscles again.

“That’s how you did it, isn’t it?” Lord Winter exclaimed, watching Giles automatically soothing Lilly’s neck and shoulders that had clenched again in worry. “It never occurred to me, or any of those medical men.”

“It was an accident.”

“A damned lucky one at that!” Lord Winter approached them. “How often?”

“Every day.”

“Since when?”

Giles considered the embarrassment Lilly would suffer if he answered honestly, and judged she would probably blush bright red. He could not answer.

“Since the day after you left me, Papa.”

Lord Winter groped for his chair and sank into it, gulping loudly. “That long.”

Giles eyed him for a moment then bent to Lilly’s ear. He drew in a deep lungful of her scent to get him through the next few hours. “Why don’t you go and rest to give your father some time to get used to the notion. Ring for Mrs. Osprey as soon as you get to your bedchamber.”