‘Father is not—’
‘Good day, Cannock.’
Lucian looked away from the seething Viscount to the tall figure of Sara’s father standing behind him. ‘Eldonstone.’ He inclined his head a trifle, as much courtesy as he was prepared to offer the older man in the midst of this crackling hostility. ‘We came at the invitation of Lady Sara. If we are not welcome we will, naturally, remove ourselves.’ He locked gazes with Clere again. Unfinished business, he promised. You will not provoke me into a fist fight on your mother’s doorstep, but later...
‘Do come in.’ The older man regarded him, unsmiling, his grey eyes uncannily like Sara’s. ‘I feel you and I have matters to discuss.’
One thing, and one thing only, kept him from turning round and driving out of there and that was Marguerite. For her sake he would swallow his pride, shackle his temper and deal with these two angry men. But he was damned if he was explaining himself or discussing his relationship with Sara.
He sent her a quick smile and strolled across the expanse of gravel beside Eldonstone. The colour was up on Sara’s cheekbones and she was bristling at her much taller brother like a she-cat confronting a mastiff. As he passed her, Lucian heard her snap, ‘Don’t you dare,’ presumably at her brother. The Marchioness was already leading Marguerite inside, gesticulating with her hands as she talked. It seemed she had prevented his sister from seeing what had just occurred, thank goodness.
‘My study.’ Eldonstone opened a panelled door at the end of the hallway and gestured for him to enter. ‘Have a seat, Cannock. Brandy?’
‘Thank you, no.’ Not when he was an unwelcome intruder in this place.
‘My son went down to Sandbay to visit his sister and found that she had left early that morning, alone with you. And yet you would have us believe that you, and your entourage, have come direct from there. The rumours were already spreading. Something clandestine is going on.’
‘Not under your roof,’ Lucian said coolly. ‘I do not discuss my private affairs with anyone and if you wish to know about Lady Sarisa’s, then I suggest you discuss them with her. My sister and I owe her a great deal and, she is, as she pointed out to her brother, an independent woman.’
‘She is my daughter and if you have been toying with her affections with no intention of marrying her then your private affairs are most definitely my concern.’
‘Her affections do not enter into this.’ The Marquess’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Lucian deliberately poured oil on the flames. Get it over with. ‘Nor does marriage.’
The big hands that had lain relaxed on the desk curled into fists. ‘In my house—’
‘In your house I imagine that Lady Sarisa would conduct herself with the greatest respect to your wishes. As would I, were I a guest here.’
‘He is playing with words.’ The door in the far corner was flung open to reveal Viscount Clere. ‘Playing with us. Will you or will you not marry my sister?’
Lucian curled a lip at him for the drama and received a glare in return. A bout in the stable yard would be so very satisfying. ‘No,’ Lucian said baldly, staying where he was and crossing his legs. Marriage was not what their relationship was about. They were lovers. Sara was not ready for marriage to anyone, he could tell that, and as for himself, he had other plans. Long-standing plans that involved the careful and considered choice of the next Marchioness of Cannock.
‘No, he will not,’ said Sara, emerging from behind the screen in the opposite corner. ‘Why should he? Why should I, come to that?’
‘Give me strength!’ The Marquess slammed one fist down on the desk. ‘What is this? A French farce? This confounded room has too many doors—and I have two disrespectful offspring. Ashe, sit down. Sara, if this man has seduced you, he must marry you.’
Her colour was up and so was her chin. Under any other circumstances Lucian would have sat back and admired the show, but this was his lover under fire and, magnificent as she was, it was his battle to fight, not hers. He stood up and went to stand at her side, not touching. ‘Lady Sarisa makes her own decisions, her own choices. She is an independent woman with enough force of character to withstand seduction. I believe she has made it clear that she does not wish to discuss her personal life. As for my own, I would simply point out that I would not dream of abusing my hostess’s hospitality by any behaviour that might cause her distress or embarrassment.’ And if they could not interpret that to mean that he and Sara would behave with perfect propriety when under her parents’ roof, then he would have to draw them a diagram.
Sara gave him a fleeting smile. ‘Lord Cannock is my lover, although he is too discreet to say so in as many words. It was a mutual decision, naturally, as he is a gentleman of honour,’ she said, before he could add anything. ‘And no seduction was necessary on either side.’ She turned to look at her brother. ‘And don’t grind your teeth, Ashe. You know perfectly well that if one of your friends was having an affaire with a widow of his own class you would not turn a hair. In fact, if you hadn’t met Phyllida when you did, I expect you would have been dallying with widows yourself.’
‘That is irrelevant.’
‘Then you are a hypocrite,’ she flung back.
‘Damn it, you are only twenty-four, Sara. What some older woman about town does is completely irrelevant. You have no experience of rakes and you know it.’
‘Lucian is not a rake.’
‘How do you know?’ That silenced her. As she sought for an answer Ashe spun round to face Lucian. ‘You marry my sister or you will meet me.’
This was getting out of hand. Sara had gone white and he suddenly realised why. It was not simply the hostility and her distress at arguing with her father and brother, although that must be affecting her. But she had already lost her husband to a duel and now her brother was not only raking that memory up but making her fear that she could lose her lover, or, far worse, her brother, the same way.
‘Actually, I have the priority for a challenge,’ he drawled. ‘You struck me.’
‘Damn it, then challenge me!’
‘Lucian.’ Sara’s voice shook and he felt as though he had hit her.
He glanced down and shook his head in reassurance before meeting her brother’s furious gaze. ‘Whether I call you out, Clere, or you call me out, I will delope. I will not risk killing Sara’s brother. If you do not delope, then you will be meeting me with the intent to kill me. Is that clear enough? And what your sister does when she is not under her parents’ roof is her affair, not yours.’
‘Exactly.’ Sara had the tremor almost under control now. ‘Now, are we welcome, all of us, or do we leave? Because if Lucian goes, I go.’
‘You are always welcome, Sara,’ her father said. ‘And Lady Marguerite needs our help, from what your mother hinted. So, no, my darling, you do not leave.’ He rose and held out his hand to Lucian. ‘I am sorry for your reception, but when you have a daughter of your own you will understand. I happen to trust mine and to trust her judgement. You are welcome here for as long as Sara is happy.’ For the first time he smiled and Lucian felt he knew what meeting a tiger face to face would be like. ‘On the other hand, if you make my daughter unhappy I will not trouble myself with the formality of a challenge.’
‘Understood.’ Lucian returned the firm pressure of the big hand with its calluses from years of handling reins and weapons. He did not make the mistake of offering his own to Clere, nor would he forget that blow outside just now. There would be a reckoning for that.
The room the footman showed him to was large, luxurious and decorated in an eclectic mix of fine furniture of the previous century