Page 117 of Ironvine

Well done, Georgie,he thought.

“I’ll go talk to him.” On a huff, Andrew stalked toward Matthew. Matthew shook his head. No doubt he professed his innocence. Andrew’s posture grew rigid, and he stalked out of the drawing room as Matthew blew out a huff of air. Turning, he caught Charles’s cold gaze.

“Port, sir?” A servant with a silver tray of wine glasses blocked his view of Matthew’s annoyance.

“Excellent.” Charles brought a glass of wine to his lips as he noticed Matthew approaching. The servant left.

“Ryvves, were you in the sculpture gallery earlier with Miss Dunsmore and her stepmother?” Matthew asked him.

“Yes, we were admiring the Duke’s collection. One moment we were enjoying passions set in stone, and then suddenly passions in the flesh flared before us.”

Matthew sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring.

“How is it, Mr. Penry, that you seduced a widow whilst at the same time flirting with an innocent young girl?”

“I—”

“You really have come a long way. Might I remind you that Mrs. Dunsmore is my aunt, and I shall not allow you to ensnare my wealthy step-cousin to your advantage?”

Matthew scoffed. “I am only trying to save my family, my name. You wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“I suppose you should have considered those lofty principles over the years when you were spending your family’s money on all sorts of amusements.”

“You and Hugh enjoyed the same amusements.”

“We could afford them.”

“Yes, yes, with your money and your title, you can do as you please.”

“Hate me for it, but it’s the truth. Another truth is that now that you and Mrs. Treharne have been seen together in such a memorable manner—by even the Duke and his friends—you might have to marry the widow to save both your families’ reputations.”

“Oh dear God…”

“I don’t think God gives a damn about who you’re strumming, but with your little show tonight, you certainly made it everyone’s business.”

Matthew leaned in closer to Charles, his lips a snarl. “You and your brother always thought you were better than the rest of us, that nothing could touch you. Hugh got his, didn’t he? Have you heard the rumours flying about? If you had, you’d be more inclined toward humility at this very moment.”

Charles kept his features still, indifferent. He would not betray any emotion to this ass. “Rumours?” He drank his wine.

“That your wife was engaged to Hugh, but you wanted her and the title for yourself. We all saw how attentive to her you were that night at the ball.”

“This coming from Hugh’s lackey?” Charles hissed.

Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “There’s more. That after the duel you turned your pistol on your own brother. It suits. You’ve always been a cold, slippery, calculating sort, not theamiable, gladsome man your brother was.”

“And you’ve always been a jealous, resentful, petty sort.”

Matthew shot him that practiced smirk of his and Charles’s hand itched to smash it from his face. “Amanda told me herself that William had caught the two of you in London and challenged you to a duel.”

“She’s lying.”

“Why would she lie when she suffers such agony?”

“Agony, indeed.”

“Does your pretty wife know the truth? Everyone here tonight has heard these rumours. You’d best wash that smug look off your face, my lord, don’t you think?”

ChapterFifty-Two

---