Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

Sir Edward pushed the purse towards him and got up from the table. He was in a foul mood. She had pushed him to this, and part of his mind railed against what he was doing. It would be blackmail. There was no other term for it, and he had never thought he would have to resort to this to obtain the hand of the woman he desired. It was humiliating, and a part of him hated her for that.

Sir Edward inclined his head disdainfully as he left the clerk and made his way out of the disreputable tavern. Once outside he sucked in air and frowned again. He would have Lady Babs in his power …

And still, his pride was pinched.

He was the pink of the pinkest! He was sought after by all mamas with daughters wishful of making a superb match. And what happened? The one woman he wanted did not want him! Well, she would learn to …

Hopefully, he would conquer her heart, but sadly, she would be angry with him for using this piece of information to force her hand.

She would get over it.

She did not have a choice.

By now his love would be in Brighton. He would travel there in the morning, and he would seek her out and give her his ultimatum … call her bluff.

He would have to make her see that he would ruin not only her with this information, but her father, her aunt, her cousin … all because of her. She would have no choice in the matter! And then he would take the contrary Lady Babs as his bride!

Fourteen

“BABS …” MISS BRETTON answered her cousin with sugar sweetness coating her tone.

Babs eyed her warily. “Y … es?”

“Adone-do!” snapped Miss Bretton sharply. “I simply won’t discuss this with you any further.” She started for the bedroom door and actually made it to the latch before Babs dove at her and stopped her with her hands on her hips.

“Adone-do?” Babs repeated in dumbfounded resonance. “Adone-do? What? Are we slipping into Shakespeare and medieval scenes? What can you mean, adone-do?”

“Enough—enough is what I mean. You have asked me at breakfast, and hounded me ever since, if I am forming a tendre for Sir Frederick. I have answered you. Now that is all there is. I … well yes, I do like him—but it is nothing more.”

“Then why do you hover over him, watching to make certain he eats his meals and drinks that vile tisane you prepared for him … yourself?”

Corry put up her chin and eyed her cousin with her delicate brows arched. “That vile tisane brought down that awful fever.”

“Yes, but—”

“But that is precisely why I made certain he drink it. The sooner he recovers, the sooner we may all leave here,” Miss Bretton pronounced in frigid terms. “Now, stop badgering me.”

“Corry?” Babs sighed and gave it up. “Very well then, I shan’t expect you to confide in me … but life is full of two-way avenues, isn’t it?”

Miss Bretton eyed her inquiringly. “What now? What are you keeping from me?”

“Aha … two way avenues,” Babs said, moving away from the door. “Go on, go do whatever it is you are itching to do.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“I think not,” Babs said thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go take a ride on Chester … and explore the countryside for an hour or so …” She eyed her cousin, and her voice was full with a tease. “Go on, Corry … Sir Frederick may need you …”

Corry puffed up with a swish of her form-fitting green day gown and left her cousin to her own devices, which was just what Babs wanted. Her father was belowstairs playing chess with another guest. Aunt Jane was busy also with some embroidery work in the reading room, where she declared the light was perfect, and so Babs was free to head towards the stables.

She had the groom help her with her saddle, mounted lightly up, set herself in place, and moaned silently that she had to ride sidesaddle. She then headed towards the field she had discovered flanked Squire Egerlly’s home.

After all, she excused herself with a fib, she was simply taking a ride near the inn … nothing more. The duke was probably busy with the squire, and she wouldn’t bump into him at all.

What a depressing thought.

***

The squire had entertained Nick in his bedroom, where they enjoyed breakfast together. His health was certainly waning, and Nick was sorry for it, thinking that he was losing yet another connection to his beloved father’s memory.