Page 65 of Lady Controversial
She held up a hand. ‘You have not heard all my terms. You will not set up your new venture here or in Chichester Harbour either.’
‘The devil I won’t!’
‘Find somewhere else. There are plenty of places. But you will not use your grudge against Lord Finchdean to inconvenience him, and nor will you get your grasping hands on this cottage.’
‘You are hardly in a position to make such outrageous demands,’ Brooke said, quietly seething.
‘Oh, I rather think that I am. I do not know what it is that binds you and my aunt, but I do know that she will not take kindly to the fact that you denounced us to Lady Finchdean. And make no mistake, I will tell her if you force me to do so. That’s the thing I have discovered about people who have nothing left to lose. They become reckless in their pursuit of revenge.’ She sat back and folded her arms. ‘Well, Lord Brooke, what is it to be?’
Ellery rode fast to Rose Cottage, expecting to be confronted by Brooke’s men at every turn. But he arrived at his destination to find it devoid of human presence. There was, however, a horse in the barn; a single horse.
‘Brooke is here and she’s confronted him, the reckless little fool!’ he whispered to Legacy as he dismounted and tied him in the barn.
He approached the cottage, making no attempt at stealth, and heard voices coming from the scullery. He knew from his previous visit that the window fitted poorly and that he would be able to hear everything through the gaps in the frame. He hoped he hadn’t arrived too late to miss the gist of things, even though he had a fair idea of the proposition Isolda intended to put to Brooke.
He gasped when he heard her demand that Brooke move his operation elsewhere and knew she was doing this entirely for his sake. He fell a little more deeply in love with his brave siren, resisting the urge to show himself and back her up. This was a long overdue confrontation that she needed to conduct alone.
‘You’ve fallen for him, just like all the others,’ Brooke said, disgust underlying his words. ‘What is it about him that you women find so attractive? I thought you at least were impervious to his rather obvious charms.’
‘A man of your stature couldn’t possibly understand the value of standards, or morals, or any of the gentlemanly attributes that come as naturally to Lord Finchdean as they are alien to you. Really, Lord Brooke, you should be ashamed of yourself. You were born with every advantage but have squandered them all and reduced yourself to the standard of a glorified brothel-keeper.’
Ellery’s heart soared when she did not deny loving him, even if she was simply goading Brooke, which was a dangerous thing to do. The man was unbalanced, unpredictable and given to fits of blistering rage, especially when Ellery’s name was mentioned.
‘I have gone to considerable trouble to establish myself here, and the area suits my purpose. I shall not move elsewhere simply to make Finchdean’s life easier.’
‘You went to the trouble of cheating my father out of his estate for that purpose, one assumes.’ Isolda’s voice took on a conversational tone that bordered on the goading. ‘Is it not exhausting, bearing grudges for so long?’
Ellery inhaled sharply.Be careful, little one.
A lengthy silence ensued, broken by the sound of Brooke’s laughter and an ironic round of applause. ‘You are much sharper than your father ever was. But really, I did him a favour. His gambling had got out of hand. He had absolutely no self-control in that regard. Nor had a lot of other men, which is what got me thinking. Anyway, he was living hand to mouth and he would have lost the estate to his creditors before much longer if I had not taken it off his hands and assumed his debts along with it.’
‘That must make you feel very proud.’ Isolda’s voice remained level and conversational. ‘And to think you did all that forward planning, just so that you could eventually inconvenience Lord Finchdean. You really must resent him.’
‘You have absolutely no idea how much, but at least you must now see why I cannot agree to move my business elsewhere and why I must insist upon taking this cottage off your hands in return for securing your silly little sister’s future.’
‘I wish I could oblige you, sir, but I am unable to give it to you since it no longer belongs to me.’
Ellery almost fell against the window. It was the first he had heard of her not owning the cottage. His boot hit an iron scraper and the sound resonated.
‘What was that?’ Brooke asked, cocking his head to one side, an urgent edge to his voice. ‘Who did you bring with you?’
‘I did not hear anything,’ Isolda replied.
Ellery held his breath. If Brooke came to investigate there would be nowhere for him to hide. Nor did he wish to. Part of him hoped that Brooke would open the door, then Ellery would be justified in intervening. Unfortunately, he didn’t do so.
‘What do you mean, you no longer own the cottage?’
‘What I say. I have made a gift of it to Lord Finchdean and I am absolutely sure that he will not allow you access to what is now his land.’
A brief silence was followed by a howl of rage and the sound of a chair hitting the floor. Ellery didn’t hesitate. Isolda might be a match for Brooke with a sword in her hand but he would easily overpower her in an unarmed contest. He crashed through the door and found Brooke holding Isolda face down over the table, his hands round her neck as, puce with rage, he attempted to squeeze the life out of her.
Brooke was so outraged that he didn’t hear Ellery come in, and Ellery took advantage of that situation by putting all his strength behind the punch that he directed to the man’s face. Brooke turned his head, looking surprised as the sound of splintering cheekbone preceded a spurt of blood from his nose and he crumpled to the floor, a gagging sound coming from the back of his throat. Ellery kicked him as hard as he could between the legs, just to ensure that he remained prostrate while he attended to Isolda, who hadn’t moved.
If Brooke had killed her then Ellery himself would, he knew, be capable of murder.
‘Here, my love, let me help you.’
He gently lifted Isolda’s face from the table and gave thanks to a god he was unsure if he believed in when she spluttered into consciousness.
