A storm of protest commanded the matron’s countenance. “Step out of my way else I shall—”
“Shall do what?” Cassandra countered. “Send for a constable and have Lord Blackbeck and Lord Tregarth inform the authorities that you drugged and kidnapped the daughter of an earl? I think not.”
The matron’s frantic gaze darted about the room. “I shall make a counterclaim, accuse them of kidnapping me from my home.”
“Do not dare threaten me, madam.” From a dim corner of the room, Blackbeck gave a low growl. “While I’ve found watching the performance somewhat entertaining, tell me this is my cue to take centre stage.”
Cassandra motioned for the lord to step forward. He did so with the grace and sophistication of a man confident in his ability to breeze through a room and create utter devastation.
“It seems your son may have earned a coveted position in government after all.” The marquis straightened his cuffs and grinned, though his dark eyes made him look positively wicked. “Lord Liverpool is a personal friend and is seeking a spokesman to assist in foreign affairs. Indeed, we need a representative in Greece to show our support for their war of independence against the Ottoman Empire.”
“Greece?” The matron blanched.
“There’s no need to thank me. Indeed, I met with your son a few hours ago at Sir William’s house, and he accepted the position with good grace.” What he meant was Murray daren’t refuse. “Miss Fox will accompany him, of course. Indeed, I hear they have plans to marry posthaste.”
“Greece!” Lady Murray repeated.
“The climate is hotter than you’re used to, but I am sure you will adjust.”
“Me?” An incredulous grin spread from ear to ear. “Why would I want to travel to Greece?”
Through ruthless eyes, Blackbeck stared down his nose, and one imagined hearing an earthly rumble as the ground shook beneath one’s feet. “Whether you want to accompany your son to Greece or not, madam, you will sail at the end of the week. Travel arrangements have been made. Your maid is packing as we speak. Unless you would like Lord Liverpool to inform the king of your treachery.”
Looking dazed and bewildered and utterly defeated, the matron flopped down into the seat.
Worthen snorted. “And what devious plan do you have for me?” The earl sounded confident he had the wherewithal to tackle whatever was thrown his way.
“You will retire to your estate in Yorkshire,” Cassandra said, “where I hope your life will be as bleak as the wind, as desolate as the moorland. You will remain there indefinitely, and never set foot in London again.”
“That’s preposterous.” Worthen glared at her as if she were muck on his boot. “Is that how you treat the man who raised you?”
It took every effort for Benedict to keep his fists at his sides.
“You gave up the right to be my father the day you conspired to have me kidnapped and left me half-naked in Hyde Park.” Her voice broke on a sob. “I shall never forgive you for that.”
“What? And so you will have Blackbeck threaten me, too?”
“No,” Benedict growled through gritted teeth. “I will give you an ultimatum.” He ignored the contempt swimming in the earl’s eyes. “You see, I have proof you committed fraud. I have copies of certain documents relating to a matter you’d rather I not mention in front of witnesses.” He referred to copies of the clerk’s letters he had traded with Mrs Crandall in exchange for information relating to Lady Murray’s and Miss Fox’s devilish deeds. “I have a copy of the letter sent from your man of business issuing instructions. I have a statement from a certain person’s sister explaining how you threatened to evict her from her home.”
Worthen’s cheeks ballooned. “Slanderous drivel. The lot of it!”
Benedict reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a letter given to him by Mrs Crandall. He peeled back the folds and held it up to the earl. “The name of your victim is written plainly.” The clerk’s name appeared at the top of the missive. “He acted under duress, after being forced to do your bidding. What I have in my possession is substantial proof of your duplicity.”
Worthen took one look at the letter, and his ruddy cheeks turned ashen.
“Do anything to hurt Cassandra again,” Benedict continued, “and I shall see that Blackbeck delivers the letters to Lord Liverpool.” The need to erase every unspoken threat from his memory, every moment where he’d lacked the strength of his conviction, forced him to say, “Out of love, my father prevented me from issuing a formal challenge. Because he knows I wouldn’t hesitate to put a lead ball between your brows. Be warned. Continue to cause problems, and I shall do everything in my power to be rid of you for good.”
Tregarth prodded Worthen with the tip of his sword. “You have until dawn to leave town. I shall park my carriage in Cavendish Square and escort you to the Great North Road myself.”
Knowing his back was pressed to the wall, Worthen took his frustration out on Lady Murray. “By God, this is all your fault. Don’t think you can hide from me in Greece. There’s not a place in this world you can go where I won’t find you.”
While the two heartless fiends continued to quarrel, Cassandra turned to Benedict. “Come. We have wasted enough time on those who are undeserving of our attention. Let’s go home. Your father and the marquis will deal with them now.”
Tregarth lowered his sword. “I suggest we all return to Jermyn Street and drain Benedict’s decanters. I have a few hours before I need to play watchman at Worthen’s door.”
When at home, excessive drinking was not Benedict’s activity of choice. The need to make love to his wife burned hot in his veins. But after the distress of the last few days, being amongst good friends helped to nourish the spirit. Besides, he would have his wife to himself on the carriage ride home.
He turned to face the woman he had loved for as long as he could remember. “If you’re tired and would prefer—”