yourself, my dear. It
is only a small annuity. Your mother's family cast her off when she married
your father. There is not much money there, I am afraid. You have no choice but
to come home with me.'
Frances
held tight to her decision despite her body's reaction to her aunt's words.
She wiped her damp palms surreptitiously on her skirts. She had, after all,
never disobeyed her aunt so blatantly before.
'I
am sorry to disappoint you, but no.' Frances was adamant.
'You
foolish, stubborn girl.' Lady Torrington surged to her feet, to intimidate
Frances as she remained seated. 'You have always been difficult and ungrateful.
Are you really expecting that Aldeborough will marry you? A nobody when he can
have the pick of the ton! Don't fool
yourself. You will not trap him into marriage. You don't know the ways of the
world. He will abandon you with a ruined name and no one to support you.'
'You
appear, madam, to have remarkably detailed knowledge of my intentions.'
Neither
lady had heard the door open. There stood Aldeborough, coldly arrogant,
quickly assessing the situation, aware of the momentary shadow of relief that
swept across Frances's face as she turned her head towards him. He executed a
graceful bow and strolled over to stand beside Frances. As she rose nervously
to her feet he took her hand, tucking it under his arm, and pressed it firmly
when she made a move to pull away.
'Perhaps
I should inform you that I have asked your niece to do me the honour of
becoming my wife.' A smile touched his mouth momentarily, but his eyes remained
cold and watchful.
Lady
Torrington's eyes narrowed, lips thinned. 'You must know that she is not yet of
age. You do not have Torrington's permission.'
'With
respect, I do not give that for his permission.' He snapped his fingers. 'After
her treatment at Torrington's hands, Miss Hanwell has expressed a preference
that she should not return to Torrington Hall. It is my intention to fulfil
that wish.'
'I do not know what you
intend to imply about her upbringing or what she has seen fit to tell you. I
would not put too much weight on her honesty, my lord.' The Viscountess's eyes
snapped with temper as she glanced at her niece. 'Frances must return home to
her family. You will hear from my husband, sir.' She pulled on her gloves,
clearly ruffled, but refusing to give way.
'Indeed, my lady. I am at
his service. Perhaps you will stay for tea?'
'No, I thank you. I hope
you know what you are doing, Frances. You would be wise to heed my warnings. I
would be sorry if the story of your abduction of my niece was to become common
knowledge, my lord.'
Aldeborough felt Frances's
hand quiver in his grasp and try to pull free, but he merely tightened his hold
and smiled reassuringly down at her.
'Abduction? I think not.'
His smile, Frances decided, held all the sincerity of a cat releasing a mouse,
only to pounce a second time. 'If it does, my lady, I might be compelled to
enlighten our acquaintances about Torrington's role in the events. It is
perhaps not good ton for a guardian to
subject his ward to a lifestyle unfit for a servant, much less to make her the
object of unseemly abuse. I would advise you of the foolishness of attempting
to threaten me—or my future bride.'
'Then good day to you, my
lord.' Viscountess Torrington inclined her head in false civility, bosom
heaving in righteous indignation, an unattractive patch of colour high on her
cheekbones. 'As for you, Frances, I hope that you do not live to regret this
day. Unfortunately you were always headstrong and selfish, in spite of all the
care we lavished on you!' In a swirl of outraged velvet and ostrich plumes,
Lady Torrington left, sweeping past Rivers, who had materialised to bow her out
of the room.
'So! You are headstrong
and selfish, are you?' Aldeborough smiled as Frances grimaced. 'And what
warnings were those? Or can I guess?'
'Only your dark and
dreadful reputation, sir.'
He grinned, a sudden flash
of immense charm that gave