Page 14 of Marry in Secret
They crossed another street.
“Five hundred pounds.”
“Only a monkey? You’d drop more than that in a day at the races or an evening over cards.” He walked on a few steps before adding casually, “You don’t value your sister very highly, do you?”
Ashendon’s teeth were almost audibly grinding.
“Which brother are you?” Thomas asked. “The brother who never visited, or the brother who never wrote?” He knew perfectly well which brother Cal was, but people revealed more than they intended when provoked into anger.
“Damn you, I was at war.”
“And soldiers can’t write home? Or were you simply too busy and important to spare a thought for a pair of young half sisters fretting themselves silly over their big brother’s safety.”
Ashendon scowled but said nothing.
Thomas continued, “Rose hasn’t exactly been blessed with the men of her family, has she? First her father sends her away from her home, exiles her for a flaw not her fault—”
“Not Lily’s fault either!” the second man flashed.
Thomas said in a hard voice, “Their father didn’t care about either of them, though, did he? Rose told me he said—actually said out loud in her hearing—that he had no time for girls. And her brothers apparently felt the same, not bothering to—”
Ashendon grabbed him and shoved him hard against some railings. “Damn your impudence! I’mnothinglike my father or my brother. Rose knows I care for her. And you can be damned sure I’ll protect her from your grubby little scheme, whatever it is.”
Thomas gave him a long cool look and simply waited. He’d dealt with some ugly customers in his time, and Ashendon didn’t worry him. Thomas could take him, but he had no intention of brawling in the street with Rose’s brother.
After a few heavy breathing moments, Ashendon controlled his temper, released Thomas and stepped back. “No spine, eh?”
Thomas smoothed his shabby shirtsleeves, quite as if he wore one of Weston’s finest coats. “Bad enough that I’m meeting my wife after four years’ absence dressed like this”—he gestured—“I won’t mark my homecoming by giving her brother a thrashing. Not today, at any rate. I might have found you wanting in the past, but she considered you a favorite—or at least she used to.”
“She still does,” the other fellow said, sounding amused. “When it suits her.”
Thomas turned to him. “And you are?”
“Galbraith, Ned Galbraith. Lady Rose’s brother-in-law.” He made no move to offer his hand.
“Lily’s husband?”
Galbraith raised a brow at the familiar address. “You know my wife?”
Thomas shook his head. “I never met Lily until today. She was ill when I was courting Rose. But Rose spoke of her often.”
“Courting?” Ashendon snapped. “There was no ‘courting.’ Courting happens with a family’s permission—out in the open, under the eyes of a chaperone, not in a series of secret blasted assignations with a schoolgirl too young to know better. And don’t refer to my sister as ‘Rose,’ dammit—she is Lady Rose to you.”
“Actually,” Thomas said coolly, “she is Mrs. Thomas Beresford, my wife.”
“That’s yet to be proven.”
“Let us not stand here brangling in public,” Galbraith suggested. Ashendon glanced at him, then gave a grudging nod. They all moved on.
“You claim you just arrived in London today,” Galbraith said. He wasn’t quite as hostile as Ashendon, but his skepticism was obvious.
“My ship docked this morning.”
“After an absence of four years?”
“That’s right.”
“Where were you all that time?” Ashendon asked.
