Page 66 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
“Enough of this now.” John stood as well, and the three surviving members of the Andrews family assessed one another warily across the beautifully set table, where the soup had long since grown cold. “Sarah, I am sorry you feel this way. I wish it could be different, but it can’t. You will marry Lord Ashton, and that is that. I will not hear another word about it.”
“But—”
“I won’t hear another word about it,” he repeated, leaning forward on the table to meet her eye. “You have utterly disgraced our family today. What if someone had found out? What if you had been seen, riding astride on the road unaccompanied and improperly dressed?” he spat his words at her as fiercely as bullets. “You have no right to speak against us now, not after what you’ve done.”
“But I—”
“It has all already been decided,” he said as if she had not tried to speak at all. “The wedding will be held in two weeks.” He leaned across the table and looked her dead in the eye. “And I will drag you to the altar if I have to.”
And she knew by the look on his face that he meant it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Leonard arrived home after a long, exhausting day, craving the simple warmth of his hearth and a kiss from his wife. Juliet was waiting anxiously in the drawing room when he entered, Baby George long since put to bed.
She crossed the room to him at once, putting one hand against his cheek. “What’s happened? You look terrible. And I heard news of a fire.”
He kissed her gently and led her to the settee, where they could sit beside one another. “It is bad news, I’m afraid.” He dreaded telling her the events of the day. Juliet loved Sarah like a sister, and the pain that Felix was feeling today would pierce her just as deeply as if she were feeling it herself. “There was a fire. We lost nearly all of the new vines we had planted.”
“No,” Juliet breathed. “So many?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He took a deep breath. “And it gets a bit worse. It seems John and Felix had a bit of a row today.”
“What? What kind of a row? Just shouting? That is so unlike Felix!”
“Worse than that. When I came upon them in the fields at the cottage, they were on the ground.”
Juliet’s hands grew cold in his. “No! Was he hurt? How could something like that have happened?”
“He’s all right.” Leonard thought about that, and amended, “Physically all right, at least. He is brokenhearted about the fields and worried about how he will repay his loans.”
“But we must do something!” Juliet looked to the door, as if she would run to her brother now, in the middle of the night. “We cannot leave him alone if he is feeling so low!”
“We are going to do something, my love.” He rubbed his thumb across her hands, wishing he could have been less honest with her, but knowing he would not have been able to keep anything from her the instant he looked into those hazel eyes. “There is something more to this, something that has my suspicions up.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know for sure yet, but there’s something about this that I do not like,” he spoke slowly, not wanting to alarm her if he did not have to. “There are letters Felix has been receiving, and it seems very odd that those fields burnt the way they did.”
“Letters—”
But they were interrupted by a pounding at the front door. They exchanged alarmed glances. Who would be knocking so desperately at this time of night?
“Felix?” Leonard stood and listened.
He heard his butler, Mr. Beeton, open the door and speak with someone, but could not make out what was said. They did not have to wonder long, as a man appeared in the doorway nearly at once.
“Lord Cunningham,” the young man dropped a hasty bow, putting one hand to the doorway. “They sent me here to tell you at once.” He gasped for breath, one hand to his chest.
“What is it?” Leonard demanded. “What’s happened?”
“The-the shipment,” he gasped. “Fire.”
Leonard and Juliet looked at one another; she stood and came to his side.
“The entire shipment was lost. All of the wine, all of it.”
Leonard put a hand to his back. “You’ve told your news now, take a breath.” He leaned out the doorway. “Beeton! Something to drink for the boy!”
