Theodora

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Theodora Page 25

by Christina McKnight


  “He ain’t at home,” the man huffed. “Someone needs ta be work’n to earn every’ne’s keep.”

  “Very well.” Alistair could find no fault with the man’s words. He understood the hardships of supporting a large family in London proper without benefit of a study flow of coin. “When will the portly Gladstone be available? I will return to speak with him.”

  The door shut in Alistair’s face with a thud, a mere inch from his nose. The man’s curt dismissal stung as he returned to his mount, determined to find Gladstone—and make him pay for all the threats he’d levied against Theo. The man hid inside his townhouse, a coward used to badger women, but unprepared for the repercussions Alistair would see he faced for his devious actions.

  Alistair led his horse down the drive and around the modest house, toward the stables beyond, tying the beast to a post before inching toward a set of large windows, the draperies pulled back to allow in the midday sun.

  He shielded his eyes to look through the panes. A flurry of activity was afoot as he witnessed servants moving to and fro. With no sight of Gladstone, Alistair moved to the next set of windows, set a bit higher off the ground but bordered by a pair of solid double doors.

  The window ledge was encrusted with dirt as he grabbed hold and hoisted himself high enough to peer into the room. Sure enough, Gladstone sat behind a large desk, a quill poised as he read through some document or another. Certainly, the marriage contract hadn’t been prepared and delivered already. He dropped softly to the ground, hoping to escape the notice of the stable hands working not far away around the back of the house.

  With any luck, the double doors would be unlocked, and Alistair could walk right into Gladstone’s house. The element of surprise would be enough to throw the man off his high stool.

  The knob turned easily in his hand—the second bout of luck he’d had that day.

  Alistair entered the room with Gladstone’s back to him. The door did not make so much as a squeak, but his determined footsteps brought the man swiveling around in his chair and jumping to his feet when Alistair slammed the door wide against its frame.

  The windowpanes rattled, and Gladstone’s chair toppled to the floor, taking a stack of ledgers with it.

  “Oliver?” a woman called from the hall outside the closed study door. “Is everything as it should be?”

  “Tell her everything is fine,” Alistair hissed.

  “Every…everything is as it should be, Mother,” he called, but his eyes narrowed on Alistair. “What are you doing here, Mr. Price?”

  Alistair strode farther into the room, inspecting a small table to his right that held a chalice with a biblical passage inscribed on it, knowing his ease would worry Gladstone. “Your butler informed me you’re not receiving guests, but I assumed that must be a mistake.”

  “And why would you assume my butler is wrong?”

  “Because,” Alistair paused, turning a pointed stare on the man. He wanted to see his reaction—and watch him squirm under his penetrating glare. “When a man finds himself newly betrothed, they are normally open to good tidings and wishes for their happy future.”

  “Ahhh, well, news certainly travels fast,” Gladstone commented before bending to right his chair. “I have yet to finalize the agreement with Lord Cartwright and make a public announcement. I am certain The Post will catch word of our pending nuptials and broadcast our good news across all of England.”

  “Oh, that is interesting to hear,” Alistair said, once again pacing slowly about the room, his eyes taking in every shelf, but settling on nothing for longer than a second as he struggled to keep his composure…and not tear the man limb from limb. “I was under the impression you’d forced Lady Theo’s hand into a hasty marriage by special license, surely no time to alert The Post before the deed is done.”

  Gladstone smiled, an odd smirk he likely thought resembled the joyous smile of an expectant bridegroom. “Lady Theodora is not one to seek attention or fuss.”

  “Is that so?” Alistair stopped to admire an old tome, allowing a moment for the tension to drain from his body. Every part of him wanted to rush across the room and take the portly, arrogant bastard by his neck cloth and pin him to the wall until he agreed to call off his intentions to wed Lady Theo. Even hearing her name on his vile lips made Alistair’s blood boil.

  However, any hasty movement would cause the man to shout for help, ending Alistair’s ability to reason with the scoundrel—and if all else failed, offer his own threats. It would only cause gossip to spread, and Gladstone would work quicker to secure the special license.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.” He set his arms on his desk, entwining his fingers. “And one does not start off on good footing with his soon-to-be wife by going against her wishes.”

  The man had gumption, Alistair would give him that. He must know Alistair had been to see Theo and knew he’d blackmailed her into accepting his offer of marriage.

  “Let us dispel with the niceties, shall we?”

  The man’s eyes flashed, and Alistair noted the first hint of fear in Gladstone since he’d entered the room unexpectedly, though he quickly hid his unease. “I know not what you mean, Price.”

  “Then allow me to explain it to you.” Alistair moved to stand before the desk and slapped his palms against the hard surface. The inkpot shook, sending a droplet of black ink flying, landing squarely on Gladstone’s white shirt that strained to cover his expanding middle. The stout man glanced down at the growing stain, the spot widening as the ink entered the material. “You will withdraw yourself from Lady Theo’s life, end your betrothal before anyone but myself knows of it, and refrain from so much as glancing in Lady Theo’s direction in the future. If you see her at Hyde Park, you will turn around. If you see her at the opera, you will depart immediately. If you so much as attend the same ball, you will withdraw promptly.”

  “Her name is Lady Theodora.” Gladstone balked at Alistair’s furious expression. “And I will do no such thing. It would be the height of dishonor. Her brother would have every reason to call me out for such an action.”

  “You speak of dishonor?” Alistair leaned across the desk toward Gladstone. “All the while blackmailing an innocent woman into a marriage she does not want?”

  “Did you ask her if she was against the match?” Gladstone asked with a sneer. “She was more than happy to agree to my proposal this morning.”

  “You gave her no choice, you bloody, sniveling scoundrel!” Alistair pounded his fists on the desk for emphasis, and Gladstone jumped to his feet. “You are a coward, applying threats and coercion to gain what you want.”

  “Oliver,” his mother called again. “What are you doing in there that is causing all that racket?”

  “Yes, Oliver,” Alistair seethed. “Do tell your mummy all your treacherous dealings.”

  “I will have you know my mother selected Lady Theodora to be my wife,” Gladstone hissed. “You will not gain sympathy from her.”

  “You think it is sympathy I seek?” The man was in danger of being the recipient of all of Alistair’s rage.

  Gladstone swallowed, gulping down air, but smartly kept his mouth shut, leaving Alistair’s question hanging in the air unanswered.

  Alistair chuckled. “Sympathy is a useless emotion. If you do not withdraw your offer for Theo’s hand, I will be forced to seek vengeance.” He glanced down to the widening ink spot marring the man’s crisp shirt. “Instead of an ink stain, that will be a hole from the shot of my pistol.”

  “Are you challenging me to a duel?” Gladstone squeaked.

  The tradition had gone out of fashion a decade before—and was a punishable offense now—but Alistair would gladly spend his time in the tower if it meant Theo was free of Gladstone.

  “You are requesting a petticoat duel.” It was Gladstone’s turn to laugh. “Jeopardizing our mortality over a woman? How rash of you, Price.”

  “I am an honorable man, and will do what is necessary to protect Theo from
the likes of you.”

  “I am no less honorable.” Gladstone stood, putting space between him and Alistair. “Is it so horrible to have aspirations in life?”

  “When it is to the detriment of another, yes.”

  “The line between right and wrong is often blurred. When that happens, I hover on the side that favors my future. Lady Theodora has something I do not, connections to a title through Lord Cartwright and a tolerable demeanor. She will give me what I seek, and she will, in turn, receive what she wants.”

  Theo hadn’t mentioned receiving anything in return for agreeing to marry Gladstone. He was hard-pressed to think of one thing this scoundrel could give Theo in return for all she was giving him. “And what might she gain by wedding you, Gladstone?”

  “Her reputation—and that of her friends, your sister included—will remain intact and free from scandalous gossip to the contrary.”

  Alistair raised one brow. “You offer all this in exchange for Theo’s future—control over her dowry, and connection to Lord Cartwright?”

  “I am certain you understand the fairness of the deal.”

  “There would be no fear of their identities and activities coming to light if you, Gladstone, were not the one to spread the gossip.”

  “Ah, yes, I must admit my negotiation skills are born from generations of Gladstone men fighting to receive their due,” he said. “But be that as it may, Price, I have information Lady Theodora does not want known—scandalous tidbits, if you will—and I aim to use it to my advantage.”

  “Society will not dwell long on a foursome of young women who seek pleasure in competing in archery tournaments.” Alistair was certain of the fact, as he’d been in society long enough to watch the ton’s interest in one scandal or another wane within days—or even hours—when the next grand distraction presented itself.

  “Lady Theodora does not seem to be under the same impression.”

  “Is it money you are after?” Alistair stayed himself from reaching forward and knocking the smug smile from the man’s face. Improving his societal status could not be all he sought, for there were several impoverished heiresses to a duke for Gladstone to set his sights on. “I will collect whatever her dowry promises. Double it, in fact.”

  “Double it…” The words trailed off as Gladstone pondered the proposal. “I am afraid the entire Melton estate would not be enough for my liking. My mother did briefly consider the notion of me taking Miss Adeline Price as wife, but with your family’s limited associations in London—what is your father, past his eighty-second summer, if he is a day?—and the penniless state of the Viscountship, a union between our families is not advantageous to my future.”

  Alistair’s wrath rose once more, and he didn’t bother breathing deeply to tamp down his fury at Gladstone’s comments. He allowed the rage to roll through his body, tightening every muscle, and making his hair stand on end. Gladstone was more of a reprobate than even he had assumed.

  Gladstone’s chest puffed, and he stared down his nose with disdain when Alistair remained silent. “If you would like to test my resolve—and wager your sister’s good name—then please, continue with this absurd crusade against my betrothal to Lady Theodora Montgomery. We will see who escapes unscathed and in possession of what they sought in the first place.” Gladstone glared at Alistair, leaning into his desk. “Do you think Miss Adeline Price’s reputation can survive the gossip to come if Lady Theodora turns away from our betrothal?”

  Our? Nothing between Theo and Gladstone would ever be label as our as long as Alistair was in command of himself.

  “I will call on Lord Cartwright. He will put a stop to this.”

  “You are certainly able to try that tactic; however, if the betrothal is called off, I will see that The Post knows immediately of Lady Theodora and her friends’ escapades about London—hooded and unchaperoned. Quite improper and worthy of gossip, if you ask me.” Gladstone organized his forgotten papers that scattered his desk, turning an unperturbed smile on Alistair. “Be advised that if Cartwright voices his objection to the match, I will have little other option but to warn all of society to the impropriety of Lady Theodora, Miss Adeline, Lady Georgina, and Lady Josephine.”

  The man looked down at his ruined shirt, annoyance written across his face.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I must change my shirt before venturing to Greenwich Park.” He looked Alistair over from head to toe, disgust taking over his face, his nose wrinkling as if his uninvited guest smelled of rotten food scraps. “You can see yourself out, I am sure.”

  “I know of your expansive debts. I will make sure they are all called in,” Alistair challenged, bringing the man up short. “What will Mummy and Daddy do then? Destitute without the possibility of an advantageous marriage for their thick-witted son.”

  Alistair would throw himself before a moving carriage before he allowed Gladstone to get near Theo again.

  “If that comes to pass,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, “then Miss Adeline will never marry—along with your other siblings. Ludicrous. Your parents were addled…having nine children. The man was either in love or insane. I hope the same fate does not latch on to me. I will ruin your entire family, as well as Lady Theodora’s, if you do not cease.”

  Had the man sought to gain some sympathy from Lady Theo by dangling the thought of children before her?

  Gladstone hurried from the room, securely closing the door behind him to stop Alistair from pursuing him.

  The vile man thought he held the upper hand. He would shortly learn to regret the day he’d gained the displeasure of Mr. Alistair Price, heir apparent to Viscount Melton.

  A man in love was a man capable of scaling the highest mountain—and leveling it with one fell swoop. Gladstone was the mountain, and Alistair would bring him down.

  Chapter 24

  Theo sucked in a quick breath as she watched her arrow soar toward the target, her aim as accurate as it had ever been despite the added pressure she was under. The arrow stuck with a resounding thump, and the crowd cheered, along with Josie and Georgie.

  Her heart soared at the same time her hands trembled.

  “You’ve done it!” Josie screeched, rushing onto the field, wrapping her arms around Theo in a tight hug. “There is little chance your shot will not qualify you to take a place in the top ten archers.”

  Theo disentangled herself from Josie’s grasp and looked to Georgie, who stood a few paces away.

  “Within the smallest circle,” Georgie said by way of congratulations, though Theo spied no smile or sense of excitement from her. It was understandable, as she’d been outshot by every other archer in the last round. She was in a bitter mood over her disqualification, something Theo could fully understand. “Let us await the next round in the training area.”

  It was only proper to suppress her own elation at her victory, so as not to further wound Georgie and her pride.

  Theo sighed, keeping her smile at bay as she faced her friends.

  Georgie didn’t wait for Theo or Josie before turning sharply and stomping off the field as the shouts from the crowd began to lessen. They would have a bit of time before the next round of archers—the final ten—were prepared and ready.

  She’d competed far better than even she had anticipated, continuing round after round and placing either first or second in each. The next round would secure the superior three archers to participate in the final round the follow day…at the same time Theo was to meet with Cassini and Cart at the museum, along with Cassini’s sister. Adeline needed to slip away and take Theo’s place or all their hard work—and the trouble she was in—would be for nothing.

  There was no time to think about Gladstone and his devious plan for her and her family. Theo need to concentrate on making the final round and pray Adeline found a way to escape for the day.

  Knowing the true danger his sister was facing, the chances were very slim Adeline would be able to slip from the house unnoticed with Alistair watchin
g. Georgie could step into her place, but the archers left in the tourney were superior to anyone she’d every shot against. Even Theo was amazed at the lofty skill of her competitors. Other than her, only Adeline had any hope of besting everyone in the final round.

  Thoughts of Alistair had taken up far too much of her mind of late, even more since he’d been so furious with her and still, in the heat of the moment, had pulled her close for a kiss that Theo would likely never forget. She’d allowed him to gather her in his arms, press their bodies together until she was unsure where she ended and he began, or if she’d ever be able to let him go.

  It was meant to be a farewell embrace, a final act to end their association. Resolution of Theo coming to terms with her impending betrothal to Gladstone. However, it hadn’t been any of those things. She’d imagined their kiss—their embrace—ending and Alistair walking from her home, taking with him her newly discovered longing for him. Instead, he’d left her in a state of need so great she’d nearly told the hackney driver the wrong park to deliver her to. Theo didn’t know what passions lie beyond the feel of Alistair’s hands and lips on her, but her body seemed to know there was much, much more he could show her.

  It was all too distracting and could jeopardize her accuracy on the playing field; something she could not afford.

  At the moment, the most important thing was putting Alistair—and her newly recognized desire for him—aside. Her dread over her upcoming nuptials to Gladstone was easier to push from her thoughts. She’d made the correct decision, and with any hope, Josie, Georgie, Adeline, and Theo’s family would never learn of the disgrace that’d loomed over all their heads.

  Theo had no misconceptions about her life after she wedded Gladstone. Her mornings practicing with her dear friends would be taken from her—and likely her bow, too. Any hopes she’d had of working with Cart and Cassini on new ideas for topographical maps would be denied, and there was no guarantee she’d be granted permission to even see her friends and family except at social gatherings and with luck, the holidays.

 

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