Page 9 of Touched By a Traitor
“Two physicians verified her virtue not a month past!” Andrew’s roar filled the study. Byron’s gaze fixed on Andrew’s whitened knuckles with mounting unease behind his gilt spectacles.
Andrew leaned forward, using every inch of his imposing frame to advantage. Dark eyes glinted beneath windswept hair as he fought for control. A measured breath. Then, in a lowrumble: “Explain why you ordered another examination without my consent. What prompted this… violation?”
“Whispers reached me of your sister taking a lover. I wrote to you, but you were days from return. I couldn’t wait. Lady Daisy consented. Everything was done according to her wishes.”
Andrew rose to his full height, his voice deadly calm. “The betrothal stands. Your unauthorized examination means nothing. And her virtue was never a condition.”
“It wasn’t specified because it was assumed!” Byron shot back, his face flushing red with indignation. “What man would accept her after she’s taken a lover during our engagement?”
“Read your contract,” Andrew said. “If it mattered, you should have included it. We’ve broken no terms.”
Byron’s hands trembled with rage as he gripped the arms of his chair. “How can I take her as wife? If she’s with child, how can I know it’s mine?”
“Then wait to bed her until you’re certain she isn’t,” Andrew replied with cold practicality, watching Byron’s face turn purple with fury.
“Your logic is depraved!” Byron exploded, springing up so violently that his chair crashed backward against the wall.
The sound of splintering wood seemed to snap something in Andrew. He stalked around the desk with predatory grace, his dark eyes fixed on Byron until he stood close enough that his breath stirred the smaller man’s hair. Byron instinctively stepped back, his earlier bravado crumbling under Andrew’s towering presence.
“Choose your next words very carefully,” Andrew said quietly, his voice carrying the promise of violence. “You insult my sister, threaten to destroy her reputation by breaking the betrothal, and now impugn my honor. I pray you’re prepared for a lifelong enemy, my friend. I’ll never forgive this violationof Daisy’s dignity, and I will have justice. Leave now, before I redecorate your pristine shirt with your own blood.”
The viscount drew himself up like a ruffled peacock. Andrew half expected a display of chest-thumping, but the man merely turned on his heel and stormed out.
Andrew waited until the front door’s echo died before bellowing for his sister. She materialized in his doorway instantly, the picture of innocence. “You summoned me?”
His prepared words died on his tongue. Daisy remained an enigma, her mind as sharp as a blade and twice as dangerous. He never knew when she was playing him like a fiddle.
“Byron threatens to break your betrothal.”
“I suspected he might.” Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“Why does he believe you’ve taken a lover?”
“I tried explaining that a woman’s… condition… might change for reasons unrelated to… relations with a man.”
“Are you saying the rumor is false?”
“Naturally!”
His brow furrowed deeply. “You passed the first examination. Care to explain what changed?”
“Perhaps jumping fences with Blaze wasn’t wise.” She had the grace to look slightly abashed. “I know you think me reckless, Andrew, but I couldn’t bear being cooped up like a prized hen while Byron paraded me before his friends.”
The flash of vulnerability beneath her careful composure reminded him of the frightened girl he’d once comforted through nightmares. “What possessed you to submit to such an offensive examination? You could have refused or waited for my return.”
“I’m of age now—no longer your ward. I wanted to prove my innocence. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping with distress, “his harassment grew tiresome. The way he looked at me, spoke to me… as if I were already his property to command.”
Andrew collapsed into his chair, suppressing the urge to hunt Byron down. His sister’s admission revealed more than she perhaps intended—the fiend had been pressuring her, making her feel trapped.
“Am I still to marry Lord Byron?”
“You seem remarkably untroubled for someone whose reputation hangs in the balance,” he said, eyes narrowing.
“You know my feelings about marriage. I’d rather practice medicine.” Her mask slipped further, revealing the passionate, determined woman beneath. “Andrew, I’ve worked so hard to earn my credentials. The thought of abandoning it all for a man who sees women as breeding stock…”
“Yes, yes. While I hoped for this match, I won’t let a snake like Byron have you. I mistook him for a man of honor.” Andrew’s shoulders sagged with the admission, his jaw working as he fought back his anger at his own poor judgment. His voice gentled as he saw the relief flood his sister’s features, her rigid posture finally relaxing. “Still, Byron claims your conduct is questionable.”
“What course will you take?” Daisy asked, leaning forward slightly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
