A Fine Passion (Bastion Club 4)

Alton didn’t stand; he didn’t actually move, yet he seemed to grow. His face hardened, stripped of all humor; his dark eyes burned. When he spoke, anger growled, barely restrained beneath his words. “Leave us, Moira.”

Shock showed briefly on the harpy’s face, almost as if he’d slapped her. Then she hauled in a breath and marched over the threshold. “I most certainly will not! How dare you permit that woman.” Advancing, she jabbed a finger at Clarice. Jack glanced at Clarice, and had to fight to keep his lips straight.

After that first glance, she’d apparently decided she didn’t need to accord her furious stepmother any further attention; Clarice had calmly served herself another cake and now sat in her chair, the very picture of ladylike decorum eating the cake off a delicate china plate, to all appearances deaf and blind to the fraught scene being enacted before her.

Enraged, Moira drew in another breath. “That scandalous female into this house! Your father forbade it.”

Jack suspected he should follow Clarice’s lead, but the temptation was too great. He sat back, watching both Moira and Alton.

Moira flung to a raging halt by the desk. She was over forty years old, her too-white face starting to show the first lines. Her figure was full but she was rather short, her hair a brassy shade, her eyes a stormy blue sparking with vindictiveness. She all but vibrated with fury as she glared at Clarice.

Jack’s eyes narrowed as his senses informed him there was a great deal of fear behind Moira’s furious facade.

He glanced at Clarice as with awful control, Alton stated, “My father is dead. This is now my house. Within it, I will see whomever I please.”

Moira turned to stare at him. For an instant, she seemed struck speechless. Then she stiffened. “I believe, Alton, that you’ve forgotten—”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, but I have remembered one or two things. I am master here. I suggest you leave this room.”

Moira’s jaw fell, then it snapped shut. “If you think—”

“Edwards!”

“Yes, my lord?” The butler answered so quickly it was clear he’d been hovering just outside the door.

“Please escort her ladyship to her room. I believe she needs to lie down until dinnertime.” Alton’s eyes, hard and beyond furious, locked on Moira’s. “If you encounter any difficulties, summon a footman or two to help.”

“Indeed, sir.”

Quivering with outrage, Moira stiffened. “If you think I’ll let you get away with this,” she hissed, “you’d better think again.”

Edwards touched her arm and she uttered a furious shriek. Jerking away, she glared at the butler, then flung around and stormed from the room. The butler turned to follow. “In her bedchamber, my lord?”

Alton nodded.

“Edwards.” Without looking up, Clarice said, “If there’s any nastiness over this, do let Alton know.”

Edwards bowed to her. “Indeed, my lady.”

When the door shut, Alton exhaled heavily; the tension in his shoulders and arms visibly eased.

“There.” Clarice set down her empty cake plate. “You see how easy reclaiming your life can be?”

Alton snorted, but his expression turned thoughtful. “I never thought of shouting before.”

Clarice humphed, the sound suggesting he should have thought of it long ago.

“Well, Papa always shouted and ranted enough for everyone.”

“Precisely. So if you want Moira to understand that you now wear his shoes…”

Alton frowned. “I never thought of it like that.” After a moment, he glanced at her. “You were the only one of us—not just the four of us but any of us—to stand up to him. Until he died, he rode roughshod over us all whenever he had a mind to.” He uttered a short laugh. “As for Roger, Nigel, and me, he never let us forget what he called his leniency in listening to us over sending you to James.”

An awkward flush rose to Alton’s cheeks; he caught Clarice’s eyes. “That wasn’t said to make you feel you owe us anything. You don’t. We should have protected you better…somehow.”

“I’m not sure you could have, or that I’d have let you,” Clarice calmly replied. “But regardless, that’s the past. It’s the present we have to deal with, and the future to protect. Which is why Jack and I are here.”

Briskly she informed Alton of the allegations against James, succinctly outlining the ramifications to the family name. She appealed to Jack; he confirmed the seriousness of the allegations. Alton was a quick study; they didn’t have to spell out the likely effect an Altwood being tried for treason would have on his and his brothers’ matrimonial hopes.