The Mysterious Miss Flint (Lost Ladies of London 1)

“What the hell are you saying?” God damn! While Oliver was a thousand miles away, his father was still plotting to control his life.

“Your father knew he was dying. He placed your sister in a house somewhere to keep her away from the fortune hunters, placed my sister there to trap you into marriage.” A wide grin filled Asprey’s face. “He knew that once you discovered you’d inherited an asylum, you’d assume he’d sent your sister there.”

“You’re lying.” Nicole shook her head as her face grew pale. She covered her

mouth with her hand.

“No, he’s not,” Oliver conceded.

He knew only too well the depths of his father’s duplicity. The old man had meant him to inherit Morton Manor all along. He’d known Nicole was desperate. The bastard had known of Oliver’s predilection for flame-haired beauties. Knew he thought with his cock, not his head. Of course, he’d not expected a crooked solicitor might ruin his plans.

Oliver swallowed down a weary sigh. So, the whole thing was a product of his father’s imagination.

He glanced at Nicole. The old earl had chosen wisely this time. How could a man not admire such a kind and courageous woman?

But none of it was real.

Were these strange emotions in his chest false, too?

Nicole heaved a breath. “And … and what did the earl promise you in return for your co-operation?”

Rowena raised her chin and turned to Oliver. “The earl had every confidence in your integrity, my lord. Though he knew you were too weak to resist our sister, he was adamant you would do what is right.”

The blood burned in Oliver’s veins. They certainly had the measure of him. He’d ruined a lady and so would do the honourable thing by Miss … Miss Asprey. Still, he wanted to see these snakes squirm.

“We paid a boy to watch this house,” Asprey added, “although we were somewhat surprised when Nicole arrived without Lady Rose.”

Regardless of what threats these people made, he would not bow down easily to their request.

“I’ll not marry on the say so of my father.” He hoped the devil could hear him and was cursing in the grave.

“But … but you must. The earl made a vow.”

“And the earl is dead,” he answered coldly.

Nicole put her hand to her heart. The greater part of him wanted to pull her into an embrace and tell her she had nothing to fear. A small part wanted to banish them all from the room and tell them to leave him the hell alone.

“And you can be certain I’ll not marry to please you,” Nicole said, directing her comment at her brother.

“You’ll do as I damn well say,” Jeremy growled. “You still need my permission to wed.”

“Speak to her like that again, and you’ll spend the next few minutes scouring the floor for your teeth.”

The grin that suddenly filled Mrs Asprey’s face stretched from ear to ear. “Well, it seems we have no need to worry, Mr Asprey. This marriage will be a love match, that’s for sure.”

What nonsense was the woman spouting now?

“In a few months, I may marry whom I please,” Nicole countered.

The vision of her walking from St George’s holding onto another man’s arm sent a tremor rippling through his body. The ice-cold shudder started at the tips of his fingers and finished at the end of his toes.

“Do you honestly think anyone else will marry you now?” Mrs Asprey said. “It will break my heart to tell my friends of our family’s shame.”

The veiled threat was supposed to intimidate.

It occurred to him that the Aspreys wanted more than the delight of seeing their sister married. As a man who needed funds, and was willing to sell Nicole to Lord Mosgrove for the sum of five thousand pounds, money was surely the motive for his visit. Mosgrove must have mentioned their conversation at the theatre. He must have told the Aspreys that their sister was betrothed to the Earl of Stanton. The only reason they had for not mentioning the fact, and insisting that he had ruined Nicole’s reputation, was to extort money.

“Other than a guaranteed marriage proposal, what else did my father promise you?” There must have been a financial reward.