Ambrose’s heart lurched to his throat. When Warton whistled, emotion, wild and dangerous, whirled inside him, so he let the curtain drop over his features. He shot the man a look that promised swift retaliation.
Ambrose was mightily aware he was failing. He wanted to drop on a knee for his wife, explain, but first he must deal with Warton, the damn bastard. Then he’d grovel. “This is not the time, Willow.”
“I beg to differ, this is the perfect time.” She descended two more steps, the smell of her scent taunting him. “You are keeping my sister from me, and that is unforgivable. I thought we had discovered something magical between us, but it seems I was wrong. Know this: I may share a house with you, attend balls at your side, dine at the same table, but you are no longer my home, and you are no longer welcome in my life beyond that.”
His heart plummeted to his feet like the hundred-year-old vase they’d knocked of its pillar at the Gallery.
No.
“You are my wife.”
“She is my sister.”
Their gazes held, one pleading and the other angry and hurt. Ambrose wanted to explain. The words were on the tip of his tongue, Warton be damned. But logic fled the moment he saw frost replace the fire in her eyes. He saw it there, the cold hard truth, reflected in her depths—she would not believe anything he proclaimed. She would only deem it as an excuse. She didn’t trust him enough to believe him.
Anger overrode any and all sensibility then. Anger for not telling her earlier, anger for saying the wrong words now, but mostly anger directed at Warton, who had barged into his home, ruined his plan, and sparked his temper to such a degree that Ambrose was now digging a grave for his marriage.
How the hell did he come back from this?
He glanced at Warton with an arched brow.Happy now, you bastard?Out loud, he said, “Get the hell out of my house.”
“This is preposterous, Ambrose. You cannot keep my sister from me, and you certainly cannot force her to marry your brother! Where is she?”
Dammit! Hehadto convince her he planned on doing the right thing. But if his original plan was gone, could he come up with another one to convince his wife of his sincerity? But how?
Unless…
A crazed idea sparked in his mind.
His eyes met hers. “On the contrary, my dear wife, I intend to do exactly that.”
Pain flashed across her face, and he dug his fingers into the palm of his hands.
“What of your brother?” she asked, lifting her chin. “Does he not have a say in the matter?”
“Everyone seems overly concerned with my brother.”
“There is no reasoning with you—not when you are this stubborn, this uncaring of who you hurt.”
“Quite right, my dear.” The shovel dug deeper—only this time, it was intentional.
Ambrose had no idea if his new plan would work, but it was the only one he could think of. Sensing Willow’s withdrawal drove him a little mad. It rightly terrified him.
But he knew that if he simply said that Holly was free to go now, she’d never believe that he’d planned to do so in the morning in any case, that’d he’d made that choice of his own will rather than by force at a midnight confrontation.
And if she thought it by force, she’d never trust him. She would always be suspicious of him—doubtful of him. So, he’d have to convince her it was his choice another way—a ludicrous, nearly impossible way. He’d have to give up all control and let her do what she did best: meddle.
“Then know this: if you do not let this grievance go, you will never be welcome in my chambers again.”
Ambrose braced himself, concealing the impact of that statement. He had a secondary plan and he was now depending on it to work. And for it to work, he needed to play the part of the beast.
“St. Ives,” Warton barked. “As much as I am loath to interrupt your marital setback, I must warn you: if you harm one hair on Holly’s head, I will disembowel you. As for your brother, I will disembowel him, too, if he agrees to your cockamamy scheme and marries her. In fact, I might eviscerate you both just for the sheer pleasure of it.”
It was not difficult to be a beast for Warton.
“What is my sister-in-law to you? She has been nothing but a thorn in my side.”
“I gave her my word,” Warton said.
