“But why, Julian? Why? Why didn’t you come to me, let me know, let me deal with the problem as is my duty as Viscount Rumsford, and, by the way, herfather?”
“Someone needed to teach that bastard a lesson.”
“But why was it your place to teach him? The gossip is going to be bad enough in the wake of her being pawed by that ruffian, but have you thought about what the gossips are going to say about you brawling with a common Essex farmer over my daughter? The caricaturists in London are going to have a heyday with this.”
Julian’s face paled. “Hadn’t though of it that way.”
“Don’t you think you’re old enough to start behaving like an actual duke and thinking through your actions before dashing out into your neighbor’s garden to bloody to a pulp one of his tenant farmers?”
Julian hung his head. “You’re right. I made everything worse.”
“Yes, you have, and I’ll tell you something else.”
“What? There’s more?”
“I’m going to tell you something that had better never go beyond my library door.”
Julian leaned forward, eyes wide.
“You are in love with my daughter, and she’s not even a grown woman yet.”
“No—. I…”
Viscount Rumsford ignored his interruption. “You know I’m right. Ask yourself why you’re four and twenty, the sole heir to a dukedom, and you haven’t taken a wife yet?
“At the risk of repeating myself, I’m going to say it again. I’m sure you’re in love with my daughter, and I won’t have it. I refuse to allow you to break her heart. Go find yourself a proper duchess. God knows you have the money to buy one.”
“You’re wrong.”
“If I’m wrong, then you won’t mind that she was actually liberated from Barclay’s clutches by your friend, the Earl of Westfalia. He stayed to supper with her until she calmed down and could be escorted back to her chamber by two footmen.”
Julian leapt to his feet.
“Stop,” Rumsford shouted. “No more fighting in my house. And stay away from my daughter. Please, for the love of God, let her have a normal life and find someone who will love her for who she is and not force her to be ripped to shreds by theton.”
16
After Montfort stormed out of Lord Rumsford’s library study, a calming voice floated from one of the chairs facing away from his desk, near the fireplace. “I know exactly what you need.”
Lord Rumsford collapsed back into his chair. “For God’s sakes, Thomas, you scared the bile out of me. What the hell are you doing lurking over there? Did you hear everything?”
Sir Thomas James poked his head around the side of his tall, padded chair. Peers at next year’s session of Parliament will still be hearing the echoes, you shouted so loud, Rummy.”
Lord Rumsford leaned his forehead against his palm and said, “What I need is a nunnery where I could send Mina, and she wouldn’t be able to escape.”
Sir Thomas rose and walked to his old friend’s side. He rubbed the middle of Rummy’s back, just below his neck where a knot always formed when he was tense. “I’m going to provide you with something that money can’t buy, something that’s the answer to your prayers.”
“What the devil? Out with it—“
“The venerable Lady Fitzroy, my mother. She’s an expert at steering young women through the shoals of theton. With my mother on Mina’s side, the mere sponsoring of a tea for her will secure her future.”
“And just how are you going to talk your mother into doing this for a young woman she barely knows and that the entire ton suspects is the daughter of our head footman in London?”
“I’ll tell her I consider Mina to be the daughter I never had.”
“And you expect her to believe that little fantasy?”
“Oh, I think she already knows.”
