When Scandal Came to Town (Scandalous Sons 3)

Chapter Sixteen

“Would you care to explain what the devil is going on?” Benedict gripped the overhead strap as Mr Wycliff’s carriage navigated the busy Mayfair streets. “Have you taken leave of your senses? This has to be the most ridiculous plan I have ever heard. Indeed, were I not so bloody angry, I might find it amusing.”

Cassandra disagreed.

She found Lord Tregarth’s plan rather ingenious.

Yes, the decision had been made in haste. Yes, it was unheard of for a woman to involve herself in a gentleman’s private affair. But Tregarth wanted to teach the earl a lesson. A lesson he would never forget. Her father would never negotiate with her, would refuse to provide a written apology, and so would have to accept the challenge. With his daughter attending the duel, he couldn’t use manipulative tricks to sway things to his advantage.

“Well?” Benedict stared at his father. “I should call you out for using my wife so disgracefully.”

“It was partly my idea,” she interjected, casting her husband a sidelong glance. “In the hope that with me as a witness, my father will behave in a dignified manner.” She had prayed they would arrive before Benedict offered his own challenge. The earl would have manipulated the proceedings, found an excuse to fire a lead ball through Benedict’s heart.

“Dignified?” Benedict scoffed. When he turned to face her, she saw fear not anger flashing in his handsome blue eyes. “The man sent brutes to attack me, knowing we were together. Worthen cares about no one but himself, has no regard for your safety.”

Lord Tregarth muttered a curse. “In his twisted bitterness, the man is determined to ruin your lives. I cannot let that happen.” He settled the blanket across his lap. The lord had been so desperate to reach his son before he did something foolish, he’d left the house wearing nothing but an expensive silk robe and Turkish slippers.

“You would have called Worthen out had your father not done so,” Mr Wycliff said from the seat opposite. “This way, the matter will be brought to a swift conclusion without loss of life.”

“So you sanctioned this foolhardy plan, too?”

Mr Wycliff leaned back against the squab and shrugged. “Under the circumstances, I saw little alternative.”

Benedict gave a mocking snort. “And how would you react if your father use

d Scarlett to prove a point? How would you react if your father snatched away an opportunity to prove your worth?”

Before Mr Wycliff could respond, Lord Tregarth sat forward. “Benedict, I swear that no harm shall come to your wife. I named Cassandra my second because I wanted to show Worthen that she is allied to our family now. As such, she falls under our protection. It’s not about proving a point, but about doing everything possible to ensure you live a long and happy life.”

“You doubt my skill with a pistol?”

“It is because I know you’re a better shot than Worthen that I left my damn house without dressing. He would force you to act dishonourably. He would goad you, torment you with cruel words until you pulled the trigger and had no option but to hop on the next boat leaving Dover.”

“I am not without self-control.”

“No, but you have reached the end of your tether when it comes to Worthen’s disdain. As for me stealing an opportunity to prove your worth, I bear the responsibility for the way you’ve been treated.”

“You’re not to blame for Worthen’s actions,” Benedict said.

“The man sees you as inferior. Am I not to blame for that? I should have considered how my selfish decisions might affect a child born out of wedlock.”

Mr Wycliff turned to stare out of the window. Clearly something Lord Tregarth said had touched a nerve.

“Benedict, there’s no need to worry about me.” She reached for her husband’s hand, mindful of the raw skin marring his knuckles. “Your father chose Pickering Place for a reason.”

Indeed, the earl had given her a brief education in what wicked things occurred in the smallest square in London. Many men settled their grievances in the secluded courtyard accessed by a narrow passageway.

“I know the owner of The Diamond Club,” Lord Tregarth said. Pickering Place was also the home of a notorious gaming hell. “When the battle commences, you will be out of harm’s way. You will have the advantage of watching from an upper window of the exclusive club.”

A sudden flurry of nerves made Cassandra ask, “And you promise you will only frighten my father into behaving as he should? You won’t shoot him?” She despised her father but wouldn’t stoop to his barbarous level.

Tregarth pushed a hand through his mop of golden hair. Deep lines formed on his brow. “I shan’t hurt him, but I cannot stand idly by and watch him punish my son. Besides, I intend to ignore the rules. I shall pressure him to choose swords. With swords, there can be no accusation of tampering. No sudden shocks.”

Benedict exhaled a weary sigh. “Do what you must to satisfy your need for revenge. After the event, when your efforts fall on deaf ears, I shall approach the matter from another angle. One I imagine will prove a damn sight more effective.”

* * *

“You’ve hardly spoken a dozen words since we woke.” Cassandra stood next to Benedict as they looked out onto Pickering Place from the large sash window of The Diamond Club. One could not be accused of supporting a duel when one observed proceedings from a bedchamber. “Indeed, other than during intimate relations last night, you’ve hardly spoken at all.”