Page 8 of Brutal Serpent

I hoped the Viscount would bore of whatever it was that drew him to our home.

But he came back the next day. And the day after that. And every day for the next week he came during the hours for afternoon calling, staying the exact right amount of time for a visit. Mostly he listened to me play the piano. He rarely spoke to me. Just watched as my fingers stumbled over the songs, and then when the socially appropriate amount of time for visiting was over, he paid his curt respects to my family and left.

He was so perfectly behaved that I wondered uneasily ifIwas the one who had gone mad. Surely I had dreamed the entire episode when he had forced my hand on his. . . member.

Then one day Viscount St. Erth came to visit but, instead of sitting in the drawing room and listening to me play the piano, he asked to speak to my father instead.

“He is asking for your hand in marriage,” said Millward as he convalesced on the sofa. He had been so drunk he had fallen into the ditch. I should feel sorry for him, but irritation at his drunken ways gnawed at me. He claimed he had been forcibly pushed but I didn’t see who would have done that.

I felt nausea roil my stomach.

“I don’t want to marry the Viscount,” I said.

My brother shot an angry glance at me.

“Don’t be a fool, Catherine,” he said. “Of course you will marry him.”

“Why should I marry him for the sake of your gambling debts?” I asked, feeling myself start to tremble all over.

“He will settle them after you are married,” Millward said. “No gentleman of honor would do less. And maybe I can convince him to loan me a few thousand pounds. There’s a prime piece of horseflesh I want to buy when I become a man of wealth after this marriage.”

I bit my tongue, the anger and heat flushing in my chest. “I’m going to refuse him!” I said boldly. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t have to marry him if I don’t want to.”

Then I fell silent as the door to my father’s study opened and St. Erth and Papa exited.

St. Erth did not speak to me, merely shot me a quick, cold glance with those blue eyes, and left out the front door.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” Papa said, his handsome face looking happier than I had seen in a long time.

“I don’t want to marry him!” I burst out, heedless of the respect due my father.

He raised his eyebrows.

“And why is that, Catherine?”

“I don’t like him,” I protested, unwilling to admit what I really feared.

“Not like him?” my mother retorted. “What’s there not to like? He’s well-mannered, the most handsome man in London, and he’s rich. We’ll be able to stay on in London if we want! We won’t have to worry about giving up Wendover House. Our troubles are finally over!”

“I don’t care,” I said, twisting my handkerchief around in my fingers. “He. . .he frightens me.”

My father strode over to me, his tall body towering over me, and he grabbed me by the wrist, shaking me so hard I felt my teeth rattle.

“I don’t care what he does to you,” he said, in a cold voice. “As long as he is willing to marry you, that’s good enough for me.”

I swallowed down my tears. Surely Mama wouldn’t make me marry the Viscount if I didn’t want to?

“Mother, please!” I begged.

But there was no help from her either.

“You don’t realize how horrible the creditors are being!” she cried. “Why, I couldn’t even get a new bonnet yesterday! They said they weren’t going to extend more credit to me! The shopkeepers have been so horrible in the last week, and I’m sure I don’t know why! But once we announce your engagement to St. Erth, there will be no problems.”

“You will marry the Viscount,” Father said. “Or I will take you down to the docks and leave you there to be a common dock strumpet. Those are your choices, Catherine.”

CHAPTER 5

St. Erth

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