Page 99 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
Her tormenter drew closer. “So, you have married.”
“Indeed, we have, today, by special license at Shaldon House.” Her traitorous voice shook.
“Or so you think you have married.” He ignored her, keeping his gaze on Charley.
“Oh, we’re married,” Charley said. “With Graciela’s guardian’s permission.”
“I am her guardian, and you did not have my permission,” Kingsley growled.
“By the terms of the guardianship, only one signature was required.” Shaldon had explained this to her. “Lord Shaldon is one of my guardians.”
Kingsley had heard her, no doubt, because his face all but exploded in purple, but his gaze stayed on Charley, as if Charley were the ventriloquist, and she, his doll.
The Duque raised an eyebrow and smirked at both men. “It will make for a pretty English lawsuit, no? The second guardian kidnapping the ward and signing over her fortune to his own son? She is a dainty one, though, Kingsley. Not wild as you described. Perhaps you employed the wrong sort of rod to control her, eh.”
Graciela gasped, her temper rising. “You are without shame,” she said in Spanish.
“Si, si.” Again came that unsmiling chuckle like a groan in his throat. His arrogant face grew hard. “Cuidado.”
“It is you who should be careful,” Charley said. His eyes had hardened.
Her heart raced. Had she not seen her father stand up to such challenges? Swindling traders, threatening thieves, and rebellious seamen. And a real man must stand up to this devil.
And Charley was a real man.
On her other side, Mr. Gibson moved closer until she was crushed between the brothers. Behind her was the cool wall, in front of her two beasts of the apocalypse, and behind them, the wall of greedy faces.
One of those faces was Captain Llewellyn’s. He had offered his help. He was no friend of Kingsley, he’d said. And now he stood and merely watched like the rest.
As the moment dragged on, a heavy fist circled her lungs and began to squeeze. She stood very still and tried to breathe.
“Lord Kingsley. Duque.” Lord Shaldon elbowed his way in, pointing his cane at the men. “Come to congratulate my son and my new daughter? How kind, but you are causing a spectacle. Disrupting the dancing.”
His words cloaked a pointed message, just as surely as his cane must be sheathing a sword.
“It shall not stand, Shaldon,” Kingsley said.
“But it shall. They were married before dinner, before all of the family. It is done.”
“It isnotdone. She isnotof age. I didnotapprove.”
“But Kingsley,” the Duque said, “let them stay married.” He glanced at his wife. “Else the girl will be ruined. No one will want Everly’s cast-off.”
Nothing changed in the Duquesa’s face or demeanor. Her marriage must have dealt her many such dishonorable, undignified insults.
No shame. No dignity. No honor.No wonder the lady had looked for love elsewhere.
“She was brought to me ruined, her and her brat.”
“Kingsley.” Charley’s voice held a warning. He took a step forward.
Graciela grabbed his hand and tugged at him. “No.” Let it be said. Let them begin with no lies. “Kingsley is right. The child is mine.”
Charley gazed at her a long moment and smiled. “And now she is mine also.”
“And a grandchild to me,” Lord Shaldon said.
“And a niece to me,” Mr. Gibson said. “Like Graciela, she is family now and under our protection.”
